"Just Like That" where Bonnie Raitt pulls off a musical and lyrical magic trick.
What happens when you're driving and a song hits you so deeply and profoundly that you can't control your tears? Pull over and let 'em flow!
I was late to the Bonnie Raitt song, “Just Like That.” Hadn’t even heard of it. Apparently, it won Song of the Year in 2023. So, the fact that it was this ‘obscure, under-the-radar type deal of a song’, only heightened my sense of embarrassment that I didn’t know it. Because I like to think (ha!) that I would know a Song Of The Year. But I did not. The song was just out there, floating around in the song-o-verse, unheard to my ears. And it terrified me on some level, that if a song this good, this powerful and this ‘known’ wasn’t on my radar, then what other incredible songs are out there just floating around, unheard, unknown?
And the strange thing is that what brought me to this song, or what brought the song to me, had nothing at all to do with the lyrics, the melody, or the arrangement. In fact, the person who alerted me to this song only did so because of a short burst of humming that Bonnie Raitt does mid-way through and again at the end. And the person who alerted me to this is not someone I regularly correspond with, in fact, it is a person who has never texted me before! It was a random, innocuous text and I am so, so grateful for it. Because I think “Just Like That” is perhaps one the most exquisitely crafted songs I’ve ever heard. And the story of how this song was created and who created it, and how it came to be, makes it even more beautiful and harrowing.
I get a text from a congregant at the Synagogue where I work, someone I’ve known for almost twenty years, a lovely, sweet guy, and on occasion, we’ve talked music, but not for some time.
He texts:
Harold, hope u had a great Yuntif [Yiddish for “holiday”]. Thought I would nominate a song for Best “Niggun” of the Year. And Good Shabbos!”[Sabbath]
-and then he included a link to the Bonnie Raitt song, “Just Like That”.
First a quick word about a ‘niggun’. A niggun [pronounced, nee-goon], for those unfamiliar, is a wordless melody. The most famous ‘pop’ niggun is probably the one Paul Simon sang in “The Boxer”: lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, etc.” (Note: this song is so famous, I don’t even have to hyperlink it]
In an interview in Playboy from 1984, Simon describes how he just couldn’t come up with a lyric for that melody and that “lie lie lie” was a placeholder that just stuck. In Jewish prayer, the niggun is important, some would as important and some would even say at times MORE important that a melody with words! (I am one of those some.) The niggun is often thought of as a by-pass road to the heart, uncluttered and untangled from words. A good niggun can really take you someplace when and where words fail.
So I reply:
Thanks so much! Been listening to a lot of Bonnie these past weeks, so great call.
That was true! I am a Bonnie Raitt fan, if unfamiliar with her entire catalog. Thirty years ago, I bought a “Greatest Hits CD” and had it on repeat for years. I loved “Angels From Montgomery” but also loved her version of the Jackson Browne song, “Under the Fallen Sky” and especially, “I Feel the Same.”
And so, when Jon texted me, I was primed and excited for whatever new Bonnie Raitt niggun I would soon hear.
I look at Jon’s text just before driving home from Friday Night services. I start listening to the tune, ignoring the words at first because I was told to just listen for this beautiful wordless melody. But then I notice that Bonnie Raitt is telling a story, singing a story to be precise.
“I watched him circle round the block
Finally stopped at mine
Took a while before he knocked
Like all he had was time
Excuse me, ma'am, maybe you can help
The directions weren't so clear
I'm looking for Olivia Zand
They said I might find her here”
Whoa. I mean, whoa. This lyric just told us so much, with such economy, not just of lyric but of melody and its use of space, of silence, of gently picked guitar, and strings. This verse alone is a master class in song verse construction.
It continues:
“I looked real hard and asked him
What she's got he's looking for?
Said there's somethin' I think she'd want to know
And I let him in the door
It's not like me to trust so quick
Caught me by surprise
But somethin' about him gave me ease
Right there in his eyes”
Now, the first time I heard this, in my car, unaware of what was about to happen, what was about to be revealed, I was still thinking something like, “Where’s the niggun Jon was raving about? Come on!”, but just as quickly I was caught up in a mystery that was unfolding so perfectly, unhurried but calculated for maximum impact, and I felt my heart racing. I had so many questions. Was it a long-lost lover? Someone with a secret? How is this going to unfold?
And then she sings:
‘And just like that your life can change
If I hadn't looked away
My boy might still be with me now
He'd be 25 today
No knife can carve away the stain
No drink can drown regret
They say Jesus brings you peace and grace
Well he ain't found me yet”
A flashback in a song. But what does that have to do with this stranger who just appeared? And why tell us, the listener, in an opaque and vague way? Maybe because losing your child is the most devastating kind of loss, and it sounds like the way he died is tied up in something this woman did or didn’t do making it all the more horrible to contemplate.
That’s when I started crying, in my car, and I had no idea what was about to come. But before the lyrics continue, there is a reverie of sorts. The wordless melody, the niggun.
Na, na, na, na, na
Na, na, na, na, na
Na, na, na, na, na, na
Just something simple, plaintive, sweet, and sorrowful. Capturing the pain of this woman who we all now know lost her child. Despite the fact it is many years since that tragic event, you can still hear the unhealed wound in Raitt’s voice.
By this point, I had pulled over. I can’t remember ever needing to pull over while hearing a song, because I had never been crying so much while hearing a song and driving at the same time, and crying and driving is really not a good idea. I tried the windshield wipers, but they were of no use.
Raitt continues:
“He sat down and took a deeper breath
Then looked right in my face
I heard about the son you lost
How you left without a trace
I've spent years just trying to find you
So I could finally let you know
It was your son's heart that saved me
And a life you gave us both”
Okay, let the tears flow! I am now in full-on sobbing mode. My lord, how did she pull that magic trick of a lyric off? I had no idea what was in store and the full weight of it hit me so hard and so unexpectedly that I just couldn’t contain myself. I didn’t want to contain myself.
Isn’t that the whole purpose of a song? To move you so deeply that you have no choice but to submit, to dance, to jump up and down, to shout, to completely give over to the moment – joy, pain, ecstasy, whatever- that you are totally present, living inside it. I was no longer in my car. I was in the living room with these two people. I was sharing in this moment not “as if”, but truly transported to the moment. All in the space of three minutes.
There is more:
And just like that your life can change /Look what the angels send
I lay my head upon his chest/ And I was with my boy again
Well I spent so long in darkness/ I never thought the night would end
But somehow grace has found me/ And I had to let him in.
At this point I have so many questions. Is this a true story? Is this autobiographical? Is it made up? Does it matter? This, all through the final throws of tears and sighs, blowing my nose, wiping my eyes, and crying some more. Damn. Thank you Bonnie Raitt if for nothing else a good cry! Whoosh, I clearly needed that!
The image and impact of this woman finding grace, finding what she never dreamed she’d find, and giving over to the release and finding comfort and solace. All held together by a simple repeating guitar pattern, a sparse vocal, and so much room.
Sometimes songs seem hell-bent on filling every sonic space with…stuff. Drums, fills, samples, riffs, horns, strings, beats, vocals, stacked harmonies, synth pads. To hear a song so complete with so much room for the listener to inhabit it. That’s a special song.
The song ends with the niggun, as if to acknowledge that even with all that was sung, all that was told, this story has no end, it is life, it is a flowing, and unending and not quite straight-line stream, or to quote the wonderful songwriter Ferron from her song, ‘Ain’t Life a Brook”:
“...life don't clickety-clack down a straight line track
It comes together and it comes apart.”
The song ended. I played it again. I cried. Played it a week later. Cried. Wrote this four months later. Cried just thinking about the song. Do they have an award for song of the decade? Song of the last twenty-five years? Sheesh!
Turns out the song is based on a true story that Bonnie had seen on TV. She was so moved she wrote a song about it, added some fictional details and took some artistic license, and took life and made art and art into life. You can read all about her process in an incredible interview about her life and music here:
Just Like That. If you haven’t already, take a listen. And if you’re driving, I suggest pulling over first.