
“Humbled”: The Linda Ronstadt cover so perfect the songwriters felt defeated
Linda Ronstadt has a voice that could silence a primary school playground at lunch time.
Her gentle command is a force rarely replicated in music. It’s a style that has allowed her to tame some of the most fierce bands, forcing them to fall in line with a whisper, and cajoled plenty of classic songs to match her mood. In this regard, she has become one of the greatest ever cover artists, not because she bends to the songs, but because they bend to her.
In the late 1960s, she would meet a songwriter who was entranced by her majesty and more than happy to write to her whims. Both JD Souther and Ronstadt had moved to California at a similar time in the hopes of further cementing their careers. Ronstadt’s band, the Stone Poney’s had just had a hit with ‘Different Drum’, and Souther had shipped up from Amarillo in the hopes of doing the same.
They were introduced, as many rockstar have been over the years, at a Laurel Canyon party, and from there on, a creative collaboration flourished. It was never lost on Souther how honoured he was to be part of this, with the Eagles man reflecting on how she invariably embelished his songs. Warren Zevon felt much the same.
In fact, both of them would frequently sit around, most likely drinking, and discuss how in awe they were of her, like drunken football fans in the pub after their number nine has just scored a hattrick. Who could blame them? She took their humble tunes and transformed them her unique grace and elegance.
On one song, in particular, they figured she hit rarified heights. “It is impossible to overstate the importance of Linda Ronstadt’s place in American music or to exaggerate her importance to me as a songwriter,” Souther told Pop Matters.
His praise continued to grow steadily more profound. “She has the greatest voice of my generation to my way of thinking and every time she sang a song of mine, it got better,” he said, before drawing attention to one triumph in particular. “‘Simple Man, Simple Dream’ is one example.”
It’s a track that could already stand on its own two feet, as Souther adds, “Warren Zevon told me it was his favorite song of mine and sang it himself many times in performance.” But both of them were flatly floored when their own pal Linda got a hold of it. She shook the bastard thing like flatpack wardrobe on the San Andreas faultline.
“We were both humbled by Linda’s direct and elegant interpretation,” Souther explained. “She did this for both Warren’s songs and mine, again and again. I always have and still do consider her presence in my life to be a great gift.” And her glowing, brooding, candle in the wind rendition of ‘Simple Man, Simple Dream’ was the ribbon on top. Beautiful.