Welcome to the Deep Dive. We're here to unpack
your source material, pulling out all those crucial
insights and bits of knowledge. Today we're diving
deep into what has to be one of the greatest
comeback stories in modern music. We're talking
Bonnie Raitt and her 10th studio album, Nick
of Time. Yeah, this is more than just an album
deep dive, isn't it? It's really about a complete
transformation. When this record came out March
21st, 1989, it wasn't just successful. It felt
like... Well, vindication. It was this huge commercial
and critical breakthrough. But it came after
years, literal years, where the industry had
basically written her off. She was fighting some
serious personal demons, really struggling. And
the numbers alone just tell this incredible story
of, well, resurrection, basically. Nick of Time
didn't just make the top ten. It went all the
way to number one on the Billboard 200, sold,
what was it, five million copies. Astonishing.
And then it just swept the 1990 Grammys. Three
major wins, including the big one, Album of the
Year for her and producer Dawn Woz. Right. And
you've got to remember the context here. 1989,
what was big? Synthesized pop, hair metal bands,
New Wave was still around. So for a blues rock
veteran, someone nearly 40, who'd actually been
dropped by her previous label, to come out with
this kind of understated, really honest record
and conquer the Grammys like that. It says so
much about the album itself, its quality, its
sincerity. Absolutely. And its legacy is still
growing, isn't it? This isn't just some nostalgia
piece. We're talking about, you know, significant
American art. In 2022, the Library of Congress
picked Nick of Time for preservation. It's in
the National Recording Registry now. Yeah, that's
the official recognition, right? Deemed culturally...
Historically or aesthetically significant, that's
about as big a validation as you can get. And
that really sets up our mission today, I think.
We need to trace that whole dramatic story. We
have to understand just how deep the hole was
that she climbed out of. How did Bonnie Raitt
go from being broke, emotionally shattered, basically
hitting rock bottom, to this massive industry
-defining success? We'll look at the... really
cruel professional stuff she went through, the
unexpected partnership she formed, and the kind
of thematic honesty that just made this underdog
record resonate so powerfully. Okay, let's start
there then. Let's look into that abyss, because
you really can't appreciate the win without understanding
how bad things got for her professionally between,
say, 1983 and 1988. Yeah, it's a tough part of
the story, for sure. And the details really show
you, well, the harsh side of the music business.
Raitt had been respected for years, you know,
a real musician's musician. But her albums just
weren't selling in the huge numbers major labels
wanted. So the axe finally fell in 1983. Warner
Bros. Records dropped her. And the reason they
gave was just purely business, right? The sales
figures for The Glow in 79 and Greenlight in
82 just weren't good enough for them. Bottom
line decision. Exactly. Cold calculation. But
here's where it gets almost unbelievably cruel.
The timing. They made that decision to fire her
one day after she'd finished recording her next
album, an album she'd been working on, tentatively
called... Tongue in groove. Wow. Just think about
that for a second. You finish this huge creative
effort. The recording's done. You're probably
feeling relieved, maybe even proud. You've poured
everything into it. And then, bam, the next morning,
you get the call. You're fired. It's like a professional
gut punch right when you're most invested, most
vulnerable. And just when you think it couldn't
get worse, it does. She was fired, but the contract
wasn't entirely severed. It still had power over
her. So two years later, this is 1986 now, Warner
Bros. Oh, that's just... Demoralizing doesn't
even cover it. So she's legally forced to promote
an album she has no control over anymore, released
by the very label that told her she wasn't worth
investing in. She has to go out, tour, talk it
up, and split the profits with the company that
dumped her. Exactly. She essentially had to promote
her own professional failure, legally bound to
it. It kept her tied to this past she desperately
needed to move on from. And that financial drain,
that creative humiliation, it all happened right
alongside a major personal breakdown. The professional
side was bad, yeah, but the sources are clear.
Her whole life was kind of imploding in the mid-'80s.
Right. There were relationship breakdowns, too.
The end of her affair with producer Rob Friboni
around 85. But the money problems sound like
they were the immediate trigger for things really
spiraling. Yeah, it got to the point where she
couldn't even afford to pay her backing band
anymore. Imagine having to tell your band, the
musicians who've been with you, your creative
family, that you just can't pay them. The financial
stress, the isolation. It created this vacuum.
And the sources say that led to some pretty destructive
coping mechanisms. Understandable, maybe, but
destructive. Severe depression set in. And Raitt
herself said she started dealing with it through
excessive eating, drinking, and partying. Yeah,
and this wasn't just, you know, typical rock
star behavior. This sounds like a serious uncontrolled
spiral driven by despair. She really summed up
how bad it got. She admitted she hit absolute
rock bottom. Her quote was, I wasn't kicking
and screaming into dementia, but I did have a
complete emotional, physical, and spiritual breakdown.
That's a powerful quote. They suggest this quiet
internal collapse, not some big public meltdown,
just wreckage inside. So she's promoting nine
lives, feeling completely broken, no direction.
Which brings us to the next phase, the turning
point. How do you possibly pull out of that kind
of complete breakdown? Well, the first bit of
luck is almost like something out of a movie.
And it comes via pop royalty. She's on the road
touring for Nine Lives, the album she hates promoting.
And Prince attends her show at the Beverly Theater
in L .A. Yes, that Prince. Wow. OK. Prince was
huge at Warner Bros. then. Massive clout. He
must have seen past all the industry nonsense
and just heard the talent. Absolutely. The sources
say he was a fan. And when he found out she didn't
have a contract, that she was basically adrift,
he apparently just immediately offered her a
deal. He said, come join my label, Peasley Park
Records. Raitt, obviously seeing this as this
incredible lifeline, this huge vote of confidence
from someone like Prince, she agreed, went off
to Minneapolis. That must have felt like a genuine
miracle, like a hand reaching down to pull her
out. But even that wasn't the magic fix, was
it? It was more like a change of scene before
the real work had to begin. Exactly. And that's
where fate, or maybe just bad luck with good
consequences, stepped in again. This time, it
was physical. Before she could really get down
to recording for Paisley Park, she had a skiing
accident. A bad one. They put her in the hospital
for two months. So an injury, something that
normally seems like a huge setback for an artist,
actually became the catalyst for recovery. Pretty
much. It forced her to stop. The touring stopped.
The partying had to stop. The constant worry
about the next gig. All of it paused. And in
that quiet, that enforced stillness, she had
to look inward. And those two months gave her
the space, the clarity to realize that she needed
to change things, not just the industry, but
her. Right, that crucial moment of self -accountability.
Yeah, she was really honest with herself. She
said something like, it seemed that some changes
needed to be made. And I looked at myself and
just felt I wasn't being the best version of
me as I could. I wasn't going to blame anyone
other than myself. That shift. Deciding not to
blame everyone else, that's the real pivot from
being a victim of circumstance to taking control.
And the concrete action that came out of that
realization was sobriety, the big one. Yes. She
credits going to Alcoholics Anonymous meetings
with giving her a totally new perspective on
life. She got stable emotionally, spiritually.
But, you know, getting sober doesn't magically
fix your bank account. The professional path
was still incredibly bumpy. And that initial
hope, the Paisley Park deal, it didn't work out
in the end. No. It kind of fizzled. She ended
up leaving Prince's label because apparently
the album she envisioned just wasn't materializing
the way she wanted. So she was still in a really
tough spot financially. Couldn't afford a full
band again. She ended up just playing acoustic
shows, stripping everything back, just her guitar,
the songs. But it was in that stripped down,
vulnerable state that she found the key collaborator
for her comeback. Exactly. Right in that raw
performance setting, she connects with the musician
Don Was. Now, we need to pause here because Don
Was, people knew him from the band Was. Now,
Was, right? With his brother. And their sound
was, well... pretty distinctive, very eclectic,
quite slick kind of funk, dance, new wave, pop
fusion. Think Walk the Dinosaur or Spy in the
House of Love. OK, yeah. So known for really
polished production, funk pop stuff seems like
the absolute opposite of the raw bluesy direction
she'd eventually take. How did they connect?
It was almost random, really. Their first actual
collaboration was on this quite unusual project
in 1988, an album called Stay Awake, various
interpretations of music from vintage Disney
films. Raitt sang Baby Mine from Dumbo for that
album, produced by Waz. It's kind of wild to
think that this career -defining partnership
started on a Disney covers compilation. Yeah,
it's unexpected, but clearly something clicked
between them. She liked working with him, trusted
him enough to choose him as her producer for
her own album. That says a lot about their connection,
overlooking the genre expectations. It really
does. So, okay, Dawn was lined up as producer,
she's sober, focused, but she still needs a record
deal. And this is where you see just how skeptical
the industry still was about her. Her co -manager,
Danny Goldberg, was shopping her around to labels.
That must have been incredibly frustrating. Oh,
massively. Goldberg reported that at least 14
different record executives passed on signing
Bonnie Raitt. 14. She wasn't seen as a hot prospect
at all. She was widely considered, you know,
commercially washed up, basically. A huge gamble,
especially after the Nine Lives debacle just
a couple of years before. 14 rejections. That's
brutal. It shows just how completely the industry
had written her off as someone who could sell
records. So when Capitol Records finally bit,
was it because they saw the artistic potential
or was the deal just really low risk for them?
It definitely sounds more like the latter. Tim
Devine of Capitol Records was the one who finally
took an interest. He saw something there, maybe
sensed the change in her. But the deal she signed
with Capitol in 1988, it wasn't huge. It was
for $150 ,000, not exactly a bidding war. It
was more like a cautious, fairly small bet on
a veteran artist who was reliable, even if she
hadn't had recent hits. And that detail is so
important. It really underscores just how much
of an underdog project Nick of Time was right
from the very start. $150 ,000 investment that
turned into 5 million sales and three Grammys.
Incredible. Okay, let's shift from the struggle
to the actual creation. What did this partnership
produce musically? What was the sound that ended
up captivating everyone? Well, the musical direction
was very much a deliberate step away from the
typical late 80s sound. The core sound of Nick
of Time is, I'd say, smooth, but definitely not
slick. It's understated rock with a real warmth
and accessibility. Yeah, I think Stephen Thomas
Erlewine, the critic from all music, he really
nailed that sort of paradox in his description.
He did. Erlewine wrote that rate never rocks
too hard, but there is grit to her singing and
playing, even when the surfaces are clean and
inviting. That word grit is key. This isn't bland
adult contemporary. It's mature blues -based
rock. Yeah. Sounds inviting, yeah, but it carries
the weight of everything she'd been through.
It sounds like maturity, really. Bringing together
all her influences without needing to be loud
about it. You hear that amazing blend, Americana,
rock, blues rock, but with the touches of R &B,
pop, even country woven, it feels very whole.
And like we mentioned, given Don Wass' background,
people might have expected something funkier,
maybe more dance -oriented, but Raiden Wass together
made this very deliberate, almost countercultural
artistic choice. Why reject the trends? What
was the thinking behind going against the grain
of the late 80s sound? It was explicitly framed
as a return to her roots. They wanted to emphasize
that laid -back blues rock feel. Critically,
they aimed for less production, less slickness.
which meant actively avoiding the gated reverb
drums, the layers of synthesizers, the programmed
beats that were everywhere back then. They wanted
something timeless, not trendy. And that decision
was probably crucial for the album's longevity.
By stripping away that 80s production artifice,
the focus landed squarely on the performance,
the songwriting, the arrangements, and just the
pure emotional power of her voice and that signature
slide guitar. Okay, let's drill down into the
actual making of it, the production mechanics.
Given that relatively small budget, $150K, and
the goal of sounding less slick, how did they
manage to get such a high -quality, professional,
yet still kind of raw sound? Well, efficiency
was key. And preparation made that efficiency
possible. Even before they had the capital deal
finalized, Raitt and Waz had been working together,
recording early, very stripped -down demos at
Waz's home studio. This wasn't just practicing
the songs. It was about figuring out which songs
worked best with just the essentials, without
needing a big band or lots of studio layers.
So they were already making sure the core of
the music was strong, that it didn't rely on
studio magic later on. Exactly. It mirrored how
she'd been playing live during those lean years,
just acoustic, focusing on the song itself. Because
they'd already worked out the arrangements and
knew the material inside out from those demos,
the actual studio recording process was remarkably
fast. How fast are we talking? The main recording
sessions happened over about a week. At Ocean
Way Recording and a couple of other LA studios,
they were apparently knocking out about two tracks
per day, which for a major label album with top
-tier musicians, recording two finished tracks
a day is incredibly quick. That's almost punk
rock speed, not what you expect for a Grammy
-winning record. And the engineer, Ed Cherney,
he mentioned that the speed didn't actually hurt
the quality. In fact, it helped create the album's
core feeling. Yeah, Cherney pointed out that
most of the music was recorded live in the studio.
Which means the core band, bass, drums, piano,
radon, guitar, and vocals, they were all playing
together in the same room at the same time. Capturing
that interaction, that moment, it avoids that
kind of sterile, pieced -together feel you can
get when every instrument is recorded separately
and perfectly layered. Why does that live feel
so important, especially for blues and roots
music? Well, that kind of music really thrives
on the interplay between musicians. The little
improvisations, the feel. Recording live captures
that human groove, those slight imperfections
that make it feel authentic. It demands amazing
musicianship. Obviously, there's nowhere to hide
mistakes. But when it works, like it did here,
you get this warmth, this dynamic energy, this
realness that became the signature of the album's
appeal. That live feel is totally connected to
the emotional honesty everyone praised. Speaking
of emotional honesty, let's talk themes. An album
made right after hitting rock bottom, getting
sober. It's bound to be reflective, right? This
wasn't just songs. It was a statement about where
she was in life. Oh, absolutely. It was a very
conscious shift towards adult themes, towards
maturity. Her biographer, Mark Bedogo, he noted
that the songs felt... much more personal than
her earlier stuff. She kind of moved away from
the standard blues or rock themes, you know,
the You Break My Heart songs or the rowdy party
anthems, and really dug into deeper, more internal
stuff. Adult relationships, self -reflection.
And the timing, her age was a big part of that.
She was nearly 40 when it came out, hitting that
big milestone, middle age. Yeah, and the title
track, Nick of Time, deals with that head on.
It's explicitly about coming to terms with middle
age, that feeling of time speeding up, realizing
maybe some doors are closing, or that you need
to make changes now if you want to find fulfillment.
It almost sounds like it was deliberately aimed
at the baby boomer generation, who were all hitting
that same point of reflection around then. Madonna
definitely suggested that, that Raitt was consciously
making an album for her generation, reflecting
their concerns, their relationships, their desire
for something genuine in a pretty commercialized
world. It was mature record tackling mature subjects,
sobriety, lasting love, self -acceptance. And
it connected so deeply because her audience was
right there with her going through similar things.
What's really interesting, though, is how much
of this deeply personal statement was actually
made through cover songs. The album's got 11
tracks, runs about 42 minutes, but only two songs
were written solely by Rae herself. The title
track, Nick of Time, and The Road's My Middle
Name. Right. It really highlights her skill as
an interpreter, as a curator. Choosing covers
wasn't just about filling the album. She found
songs by other writers that perfectly articulated
the emotional territory she wanted to explore.
Writers like John Hyatt, his thing called love
just perfectly captures that kind of mature,
comfortable joy and commitment. And Bonnie Hayes,
who wrote Love Letter and Have a Heart, which
have that really introspective quality. So she
used these outside songs, like pieces of a puzzle,
building this cohesive, thematic picture. It
let her channel her own new perspective, the
sobriety, the stability, the grown -up love,
through lyrics written by others, but delivered
with the full weight of her own lived experience.
That's it, exactly. Anyone can sing a cover song.
But Raitt inhabited these songs. Her voice, which
had been roughed up by life but was now newly
clear and energized by sobriety, gave such authenticity
to the material. They felt like her own stories,
even if she didn't write the words. Okay, let's
get into the personnel now, Section V. Despite
that modest $150k advance and the tight recording
schedule, the list of musicians who played on
this album is seriously impressive. A real who's
who. It absolutely is. And that speaks volumes
about the respect Bonnie Raitt commanded among
fellow musicians, even when her commercial stock
was low. Great players, they recognized talent
and integrity. Having these names on the credits
basically validated the whole project before
it even hit the stores. So beyond Raitt herself
who handled vocals, electric piano, her amazing
slide guitar work, and other guitars who were
the core players. Well, obviously Dawn was producing,
setting that sonic tone. And Ed Cherney engineering
and mixing, capturing that clean but live sound.
But the band playing with her, really top notch.
Who laid down the foundation? The rhythm section.
That crucial groove came from James Hutch, Hutchinson
on bass, and Ricky Fattar on drums. These guys
are seasoned pros. They play with incredible
taste, never too busy, never too slick, just
solid, supportive, mature playing that lets Russ'
voice and guitar really breathe and shine. And
then there are the guest appearances, which definitely
add another layer of credibility, don't they?
Oh, yeah. I mean, the biggest name on the album,
undeniably, is Herbie Hancock. Playing acoustic
piano on track 10, I ain't gonna let you break
my heart again, Herbie Hancock. A true legend
of jazz, fusion. His presence alone sends a signal
to everyone, critics, listeners, that this is
a serious musical undertaking, not just some
quick comeback attempt. What did Hancock specifically
bring to that track, musically? He brings this
harmonic sophistication, you know. It lifts the
song beyond just a simple blues ballad. His touch
is just exquisite, often subtle. But the chords
he chooses, the way he voices them. It adds this
layer of elegance and complexity that really
deepens the emotional impact of the song. It
wasn't just name -dropping. It was casting the
perfect musician for that specific mood. There
was a strong horn section too, right? Yeah, the
heart attack horns. They were key for adding
that bit of soul, that R &B edge on tracks like
Have a Heart. You're talking about Bill Bergman,
Greg Smith, John Berry Jr., Dennis Farias. A
really tight, powerful section that adds energy,
but again. never overpowers the main groove.
They kept that balanced grit, but not slickness.
And finally, the vocals. Who was supporting her
on harmonies? The backing vocal lineup was pretty
stacked, too. You had incredible session singers
like Sir Harry Bowens, Arnold McCullers, Sweet
Pea Atkinson, guys known for their power and
soul. But the real star power, in terms of harmony,
came from David Crosby and Graham Nash singing
back up on Cry On My Shoulder. Crosby and Nash?
Legends of Harmony, what kind of impact did having
them on the record make? Well, instantly, you've
got rock royalty lending their voices. And their
specific harmonic blend is iconic, instantly
recognizable. Their presence just underlined
the fact that, despite her struggles, Raitt still
had this deep network of respect within the music
community. They brought those intricate, beautiful
harmonies they're famous for, adding this richness
and texture. It was like a signal that the folk
rock establishment was fully behind her return.
Really, the whole personnel list reads like a
statement of trust from the best in the business.
That musical support was clearly there. But now,
as we move into the commercial success story,
we have to go back to the business side. Even
with the album finished, getting it marketed
by Capitol Records was still a battle. Yeah,
the resistance inside the label was pretty significant.
You have to remember, Raitt was known, yes, but
she was known for not selling huge numbers recently.
So Capitol's marketing department was really
reluctant to throw much money behind promoting
her. They saw it as a big risk. So it took Tim
Devine, the executive who signed her, to really
push for it. Absolutely. Devine apparently had
to go directly to the president of Capitol just
to get approval for basic things like putting
full page ads in music magazines. This wasn't
launched with a massive coordinated media campaign.
It was a record that had to fight for attention
both inside the building and out in the world.
And the way it sold really shows that. It wasn't
an instant smash hit. It was the absolute definition
of a slow burn. Totally. It debuted pretty low
on the Billboard 200 chart, like number 105.
It sold steadily, though, right from the start.
Became her best -selling album to date fairly
quickly, which was already a win. But its journey
to the very top, that took an incredibly long
time. How long are we talking? It took over a
year. Consistent sales, growing critical acclaim,
lots of positive word of mouth, building and
building from its release in March 89 all the
way until April 6, 1990. That's when Nick of
Time finally hit number one. I mean, think about
today's music world. Albums debut high based
on pre -orders and first week streams, then often
drop quickly. A 13 -month climb to number one.
It's basically unheard of now. And that slow
climb wasn't just impressive, it actually set
a record. Yeah, a really fascinating chart record
that says so much about her persistence. The
time between Bonnie Raitt's first album ever
charting on the Billboard 200 that was Give It
Up way back in 1972 and Nick of Time hitting
number one in 1990 was 17 and a half years. That
broke the record for the longest time it ever
took an artist to reach number one after their
first chart appearance. It wasn't just a comeback
hit. It was like proof that quality and sticking
with it could eventually move the system. So
what kept that momentum going for so long? It
couldn't have just been touring, right? They
needed radio play, maybe some visuals. Definitely.
The singles were important. Nick of Time itself,
Love Letter, they did okay. But Thing Called
Love and especially Have a Heart were the ones
that got significant radio play. Have a Heart
actually cracked the top 50 on the Billboard
Hot 100, hitting number 49. That gave it the
crossover push it needed, getting played on pop
stations, not just rock or blues formats. And
Mark Bago, the biographer, he highlights the
music video for Thing Called Love as being pretty
important too, especially for reaching a new
audience. Yeah, that's a great point for that
era. The late 80s, early 90s. MTV and VH1 were
huge. That video is a smart way to reintroduce
Bonnie Raitt to a younger generation who might
have only known her vaguely. if at all. And the
video itself was affected because it was simple,
charismatic, just rate playing in a bar, looking
great, energetic, flirting with Dennis Quaid,
who played a patron. It sold her personality
or magnetism, showed she was still relevant and
cool. OK, so we've got the quality music, the
emotional depth, the slow, steady marketing push,
the video. But if you had to boil it down, why
did this record at this moment connect so deeply
that it sold five million copies and became this
defining comeback? Her publicist at the time,
Joan Myers, probably had the simplest and maybe
the best explanation. She put it down entirely
to Raitt's authenticity. Myers said, Bonnie's
personality and sincerity just won people's hearts.
In addition to her music, there was nothing ever
pretentious about her. Okay, let's unpack that
word sincerity in the context of 1989. The late
80s, as we said, lots of big hair, big production,
maybe some manufactured images out there. Why
did her specific brand of authenticity cut through
so strongly then? I think it cut through because
it felt like an antidote. An alternative to all
the gloss and excess of the time. People were
maybe getting tired of the artifice and were
hungry for something real. And the narrative
surrounding the album, the artist who battled
addiction, got sober, found maturity, and made
this honest record about real life that created
a powerful emotional connection. It wasn't about
fantasy. It was about resilience, about growth.
Especially for that boomer audience who were
doing their own soul -searching, this album felt
like a genuine companion. an honest voice talking
about things they were actually experiencing.
And it wasn't just a U .S. phenomenon. The album
did well internationally, too, suggesting that
message resonated more broadly. Yeah, while North
America was definitely the main driver, it hit
number four up in Canada, it charted respectably
across Europe, too. Made number 51 in the U .K.,
popped up on the charts in Australia, Germany,
the Netherlands. That core message of reflection,
sincerity, it clearly translated. Which brings
us nicely to the ultimate validation. The critical
acclaim, specifically that massive Grammy night.
The commercial success was huge, but the industry
recognition cemented its place in music history.
Oh, the 1990 Grammys were just total vindication.
It's worth repeating the wins because they were
so significant. Nick of Time wins the biggest
award album of the year. And then the title track,
the song Nick of Time, it does this amazing double
winning best female rock vocal performance and
best female pop vocal performance. Winning across
different genre categories like that, plus taking
the top prize. That's a huge statement from the
same industry that had basically given up on
her just a few years earlier. It's the ultimate
turnaround narrative, isn't it? To go from being
fired, forced to promote an album your old label
dumped on the market, to standing on that Grammy
stage accepting album of the year. especially
after signing for just $150 ,000. It's the definitive
story of triumph over adversity. It wasn't just
a win for her. It felt like the industry acknowledging,
wow, we really missed the boat on this one. And
that recognition, as we mentioned earlier, it
wasn't just a one -night thing. The album was
immediately recognized as important, getting
included in those key... best of lists, like
the Book 1001 albums you must hear before you
die. Yeah, it instantly became part of the canon,
required listening. Although it's interesting
to look at how its critical standing, particularly
in big publications like Rolling Stone, has maybe
shifted a bit over the decades. Right. If you
track its position on Rolling Stone's 500 Greatest
Albums of All Time list. Exactly. In the first
version, 2003, Nick of Time was ranked pretty
high, number 229. Then in the 2012 update, it
held... steady basically at 230. But in the most
recent version, the 2020 list, it dropped quite
a bit down to number 492. Wow. Yeah, that's a
significant drop from the top half down to almost
the very end. What do you think that means for
its legacy? Well, it doesn't necessarily mean
critics think less of the album itself. It often
reflects how critical tastes change, how subsequent
generations reassess eras. Maybe there's been
a renewed focus on other sounds from the late
80s or early 90s grunge alternative hip -hop
that were perhaps seen as more groundbreaking
or culturally disruptive. Those shifts might
push more polished, adult -oriented rock albums
down the list. But, I mean, the crucial thing
is it's still on the list. That confirms its
enduring quality and impact, even if its relative
position fluctuates with critical trends. And
regardless of where it sits on a magazine list,
that final stamp of historical importance came
much more recently. Right. The Library of Congress
selecting it in 2022 for the National Recording
Registry. That preservation honor deeming it...
culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant.
That ensures the album and its story, this pivotal
moment for Raitt, bringing mature themes to the
mainstream, is saved and recognized permanently
for its cultural value. The whole journey, from
hitting rock bottom to this massive breakthrough,
it's just such a powerful lesson in resilience,
in artistic truth. Let's try and pull together
the most potent parts of this story one last
time for everyone listening. Yeah, I think it
really boils down to two things. Just how bad
things got for her initially. and how pure and
honest her artistic response was. We started
with Bonnie Raitt getting dropped by Warner Bros.,
being legally tied to promoting Nine Lives, this
record she hated, and hitting that personal low
point, that complete emotional, physical, and
spiritual breakdown she talked about. Then came
that unexpected forced pause, the skiing accident,
which led her to the absolutely critical, life
-changing decision to get sober. And that clarity,
that new perspective allowed her to connect with
Dawn was maybe an unlikely choice on paper, but
the perfect producer for her. And then after
being turned... down 14 times, she gets that
relatively small $150 ,000 deal from Capitol.
And from that modest beginning, she creates this
absolute masterpiece. A blues rock album recorded
quickly, mostly live, focused entirely on personal
honesty, growing older, finding stability. It
felt real. It had grit. And it connected universally
because it came from such a genuine place, not
from trying to chase trends. And that authenticity,
backed up by relentless touring and incredible
word of mouth, that's what fueled the slow, steady
climb up the charts for over a year, leading
to that historic 17 .5 -year record and the Grammy
for Album of the Year. She redefined her entire
career completely on her own terms. And that
mechanism, that slow burn success, is really
fascinating to think about now. The steady touring,
the critical buzz building over time. That's
what pushed the album forward. The music resonated.
The themes of reflection and sobriety felt true
because they were so clearly rooted in her real
-life struggles and recovery. People trusted
the story because the music felt absolutely authentic.
Which brings us to a final thought, something
for you, the listener, to consider as we wrap
up this deep dive. We've talked about this incredible
17 .5 -year gap for Raitt to hit number one and
how her success was built layer by layer touring,
word of mouth. quality enduring over time, not
initial hype. So the question is, in today's
music world, with its intense focus on instant
hits, viral moments, first week streams, how
likely is it that a similar kind of slow burn
masterpiece, an album built on deep personal
experience that needs time to find its audience,
could ever achieve that same kind of ultimate
deserved success? Are we maybe losing the space
for albums that take a year to truly connect
and climb? That's definitely something to think
about considering how quickly things move today.
Thanks for joining us for The Deep Dive. Until
next time.