The Linda Ronstadt song that “everybody” thought was “too corny” and the man who saved it
Some musicians can tell whether a song feels right upon first listen. Linda Ronstadt once felt a particular pull to a classic nobody believed in at first.
Ronstadt having some kind of subhuman intuition isn’t really all that much of a stretch considering how she had a starkly different upbringing from most other figures in rock ‘n’ roll. She also naturally had different tastes from most of those in the LA music scene at the time, shaped from when she was younger and strengthened through an increasing dedication to all those she loved when she was growing up.
But this wasn’t a definitive act of defiance so much as knowing exactly the kind of music she loved from a really early age, and deciding that she’d only ever make music based on the musicians she’d become exposed to before the age of ten. While some might consider this restrictive or even snooty, it gave Ronstadt a definitive focus, one that none of her peers had and that ultimately enabled her to become the kind of mentor she initially saw in singers like Lola Beltrán and bands like Mariachi Los Camperos.
But that’s where things changed, too. Alongside knowing her tastes were bands and acts who helped shape her creative vision in the studio, transforming her from an aspiring musician with a love for her own Mexican heritage to one who could lead the way with more authority. Eventually, she became the kind of figure in places like The Troubadour who just had an aura of expertise around her, even when she didn’t even see it herself (and still probably doesn’t to this day).
But the instinct was always already there, the one that connected emotion with music in a way that gave it and her purpose, the one that knew immediately how to tell if a song struck the right chord and if it was worth her putting her own spin on it, even if others didn’t initially see the point. Even if others didn’t initially see how beautiful it could be in her own version, with her own magic sprinkled all over it. This was the case with ‘Heart Like A Wheel’.
Producer Peter Asher was a deity for Ronstadt, refining her sound in ways that would eventually cement her place in history as the Queen of Country Rock. Not only that, but the project came at a time when life at The Troubadour was waning, placing it at the epicentre of a shifting movement. “One of the things I really liked about Peter was that he understood that song, ‘Heart Like A Wheel’,” Ronstadt told Uncut.
She continued, “Everybody I played it for before said, “Oh, it’s not commercial,” or, “It’s too corny.” I just thought it was a gorgeous song and I wanted to perform it so much. […] By that time, the scene at The Troubadour had wound down so we didn’t see each other’s concerts as much. Life got a little bit more isolated then.”
Heart Like a Wheel was Ronstadt’s first number-one album in America, sparked by its lead single, a cover of Betty Everett’s ‘You’re No Good’. It also won a Grammy, which earned labels like Ronstadt’s breakthrough record and the one that enhanced her presence not just in rock but in the music scene as a whole. And above all else, it was only possible because she trusted her gut with a producer who shared the same revolutionary vision.
