This week In Singing Ladies 04/52

1 . Bonnie Raitt . Have A Heart

Bonnie Raitt’s “Have A Heart,” pulled from her chart-topping 1989 album *Nick of Time*, showcases a bittersweet plunge into the debris of fading love.

Released as a single in 1990, it quietly crept to number 49 on the US Billboard Hot 100, lingering on the charts for a modest nine weeks.

Some say it’s a sleeper hit—a track eclipsed by the juggernaut success of its parent album, yet quietly resonant.

The song gained broader traction across borders, cracking number 3 on Canada’s RPM Adult Contemporary chart, which says something about Raitt’s cross-cultural reach without excessive pomposity.

Lyrically, “Have A Heart” drips with wry frustration, a weary plea delivered in that gravelly, earnest tone Raitt wields with deceptive ease.

She doesn’t wallow in heartbreak—she’s exasperated, almost biting, while the bluesy undercurrent in her vocal delivery tethers the emotional register firmly to honesty.

Musically, the song leans into a relaxed groove: tight percussion, understated guitar work, and warm organ flourishes provide a backdrop that lets Raitt’s voice command attention without drowning in melodrama.

Its midtempo build refuses to beg for commercial radio stardom, which perhaps explains its relatively tepid Billboard performance domestically.

Still, it’s a song whose appeal grows over time—less immediate melody, more slow-burn narrative.

Raitt’s 1990 performance on *The Tonight Show with Jay Leno* embodies her no-nonsense stage presence, never overly theatrical, just rooted in this gritty precision that sidesteps saccharine sentimentality.

The music video, directed with subtle flair, splices Raitt’s performance footage with striking imagery of Vine Street in Hollywood, grounding the song in a gritty urban melancholy that mirrors its thematic core.

“Have A Heart” doesn’t scream for attention—it sighs, snaps, and shrugs its shoulders. It’s not flashy or hook-heavy, but there’s a quiet rebellion in its refusal to sugarcoat the detritus of emotional unraveling.

It stands as a highlight of an album that defined a spotlight moment in Raitt’s career without becoming cloyingly ubiquitous in its accessibility.

Lifted from : On TV today, Bonnie Raitt with Jay Leno (1990)

2 . Beth Hart . Picture In A Frame

“Picture In A Frame” by Beth Hart finds its home on her eighth studio release, *Fire on the Floor*, an album that arrived in Europe, Australia, and New Zealand in late 2016 before landing elsewhere in early 2017.

The album, a product of Oliver Leiber’s production with top-tier musicians like Michael Landau and Waddy Wachtel, rests comfortably within the blues, rock, and jazz-laden stylings Hart wields so adeptly.

Anchoring itself in a personal corner of Hart’s life, the track reflects her emotional depth, outwardly written with her husband in mind but ultimately tied to her late friend, Michael Stevens.

The song operates with a raw tenderness, its minimal arrangement allowing Hart’s gravelly voice to occupy every crevice of the performance with an unflinching vulnerability.

Part of a chart-topping album that clinched No. 1 on the Billboard Blues Chart and placed in the upper ranks across Austria, the Netherlands, and Germany, this track showcases emotional authenticity without pandering to sentimentality.

For those interested in extended forms, there’s the *Live at the Royal Albert Hall* performance, where the song’s quiet intimacy is amplified in a grand yet uncrowded space, capturing its resonance without gilding the edges.

Lifted from : Beth Hart rocks . magazine (2017)

3 . Tori Amos . Cornflake Girl

“Cornflake Girl” by Tori Amos occupies a liminal space between haunting narrative and poignant commentary, reflecting both her idiosyncratic artistry and the brutal subject matter it addresses.

Emerging as the first single from her 1994 album *Under the Pink,* the track weaves an allegory inspired by Alice Walker’s *Possessing the Secret of Joy*, confronting the betrayal of women by other women and the unspeakable practice of female genital mutilation.

Amos wields the term “cornflake girl” like a razor blade—her euphemism slices deeply as it critiques shallow, conformist behavior, setting “raisin girls,” who embody empathy and individuality, as their antithesis.

Musically, the song is an intricate fusion of pop and alt-rock sensibilities, wrapped in a surreal, almost sticky melody that feels both approachable and unsettling.

The contributions of George Porter Jr.’s basslines and Paulinho Da Costa’s fragmented percussion lend a twisted groove that mirrors the song’s dissonant subject matter.

Background vocals from Merry Clayton inject an air of ominous camaraderie, her voice simultaneously mournful and defiant.

The accompanying music video exists in dual forms—the UK version and its American sibling—both embodying themes of conflict and estrangement, though neither softens the hard edges of the song’s thematic weight.

From its chart success—No. 7 in the US and a striking No. 4 in the UK—to its inclusion in the modern cultural artifact *Yellowjackets*, the song’s legacy refuses easy categorization.

Amos manages to channel a complex, almost unsettling tightrope walk: an anthem of exclusion drenched in the sounds of one who refuses to be ostracized.

Live performances extend this audacious ethos, with *Under the Pink’s* tour amplifying its confrontational charm, morphing the song into a declaration from the margins of societal expectations.

Lifted from : Tori Amos performs against abuse (1997)

4 . Rihanna . Kiss It Better

“Kiss It Better” lands somewhere between a nostalgic throwback and a modern torch song, tethered to the 1980s synth-rock balladry while swaying gracefully into R&B’s intimate folds.

Crafted by a dream team including Jeff Bhasker, Glass John, and Rihanna herself, the track feels like a confession issued in neon, both raw and polished.

The song’s narrative is nothing new—love, loss, reconciliation—but Rihanna’s delivery injects a sense of desperation that compels you to listen closer.

Its hooks milk emotion without edging into melodrama, though the instrumentation sometimes leans on the predictable side of the retro spectrum.

Chart-wise, it didn’t shatter ceilings, peaking only at number 62 on the Billboard Hot 100, but its longevity on UK charts underscored its staying power among listeners who appreciate its haunting pull.

Rihanna’s music video underscores the track’s sensual vulnerability with black-and-white visuals that oscillate between stylish restraint and provocative intimacy.

This song is a quiet giant—not a chart dominator, but a testament to Rihanna’s ability to maneuver an aching melody with finesse, even if it occasionally flirts with overcooked dramatics.

Lifted from : Rihanna releases her eighth album . ‘Anti’ featuring ‘Work,’ ‘Needed Me’ and ‘Love on the Brain’ (2016)

5 . Lana Del Rey . Summertime Sadness

“Summertime Sadness” by Lana Del Rey is an undeniably atmospheric track that captures the hazy melancholy of long, languid summers tinged with loss.

Released as part of her sophomore album “Born to Die” in 2012, the song exudes both cinematic grandeur and personal fragility, its orchestration blending haunting string arrangements and somber electronic beats.

The lyrics tread a fine line between romantic nostalgia and existential despair, offering verses that feel like cryptic diary entries pieced together from flickering memories.

Its origins as a tribute to a lost friend lend the track an air of morbid intimacy, complemented by Lana’s signature vocal delivery—a half-whispered, half-drawled performance that leans into melodrama without completely succumbing to it.

The accompanying music video, a fever dream of grainy filters and spectral imagery, pushes the narrative further, with two women romantically entangled and choosing death over life, thereby solidifying the theme of tragic longing.

While some might dismiss it as gloom for gloom’s sake, there’s no denying the hypnotic quality of its melody, which finds an unsettling sweetness beneath the sadness.

The track’s subsequent remixes, especially Cedric Gervais’ house-inflected version, placed it on club playlists worldwide, achieving a rare feat of turning pensive despair into a dance floor anthem.

Charting in several countries and later lauded by *Rolling Stone*, “Summertime Sadness” represents the paradoxical core of Del Rey’s charm: timeless yet of its moment, achingly cool but unabashedly emotional, as if longing itself could be set to music.

Lifted from : Lana Del Rey releases her second album . ‘Born to Die’ featuring ‘Video Games’ (2012)

6 . Kacey Musgraves . Butterflies

Released as part of Kacey Musgraves’ critically acclaimed “Golden Hour” in 2018, “Butterflies” draws listeners into a dreamy orbit of love and lighthearted giddiness.

Musgraves, along with Luke Laird and Natalie Hemby, crafts lyrics that showcase a delicate yet vivid portrait of newfound affection, inspired by her own relationship with Ruston Kelly.

The production, helmed by Musgraves, Daniel Tashian, and Ian Fitchuk, defies strict categorization, merging country pop with hints of disco and a reggae-tinged undertone.

Its layered instrumentation is unhurried yet buoyant, weaving guitars and subtle rhythms into a warm melodic framework that serves the lyrical intimacy.

Critically recognized, “Butterflies” snagged a Grammy for Best Country Solo Performance in 2019, merging genre boundary-pushing with an accessible emotional core.

It found a home on stages big and small, from “Austin City Limits” to morning television appearances, bridging personal storytelling with universal resonance for a diverse audience.

The song’s music video, shot against the colorful backdrop of Mexico City, adds a soft visual counterpart, highlighting Musgraves’ knack for understated imagery.

Though later covered by unexpected voices like rock band Hawthorne Heights and embraced by a contestant on “The Voice,” Musgraves’ ethereal yet grounded delivery remains definitive.

Lifted from : Kacey Musgraves sings in New-York City (2019)

7 . Adele . Someone Like You

Adele’s “Someone Like You” strips heartbreak down to its barest essentials—her voice, Dan Wilson’s piano, and enough raw emotion to fill an Olympic pool.

Released on Adele’s 2011 album *21*, the track is a textbook case of less being more, with its stark arrangement leaving no place for the lyrics—or listener—to hide.

Inspired by Adele’s own failed relationship, the song’s narrative is drenched in the bittersweet realities of letting go, delivered with the kind of vulnerability that’s alarmingly rare in the pop sphere.

The key of A major serves as an ironic backdrop to lyrics laden with melancholy, while the snail-paced tempo of 67.5 beats per minute ensures every moment lingers long enough to ache.

The accompanying music video, shot in monochromatic hues across Paris, opts for minimalism over drama, mirroring the song’s restraint.

Adele’s impassive strolls through cobblestone streets feel like the visual equivalent of a sigh—subdued but heavy with unspoken weight.

Critics showered the track with near-universal acclaim, which is as unsurprising as it is deserved; after all, wallowing has rarely sounded this exquisite.

The song’s sheer ubiquity—covered by *Glee*, hammered into karaoke oblivion, and performed at countless tour stops—might detract from its freshness, but its emotional core remains intact.

“Someone Like You” is proof that sometimes, tearing open a wound results in something hauntingly beautiful, even if it’s destined to play on repeat in coffee shops for the next decade.

Lifted from : Adele releases ’21’ featuring ‘Rolling in the Deep,’ ‘Someone like You,’ ‘Set Fire to the Rain,’ ‘Rumour Has It’ and ‘Turning Tables’ (2010)

8 . Céline Dion . Recovering

“Recovering” by Céline Dion stands as an emotionally charged ballad, penned by pop luminary Pink alongside Alecia Moore, Allen Shamblin, and Tom Douglas.

Its creation stems from deep personal loss, paying homage to Dion’s late husband, René Angélil, whose impact permeates the song’s haunting vulnerability.

The production, helmed by Humberto Gatica with assistance from Scott Price, ensures a stripped-back yet atmospheric arrangement, leaving plenty of room for Dion’s unshakable vocals to shine.

Deceptively simple on the surface, the track delicately balances the raw ache of grief with glimpses of resilience, much like the emotions it seeks to reflect.

Dion revealed the title in 2016, sparking buzz as part of her anticipated English-language album at the time.

The public unveiling occurred on notable platforms such as *The Ellen DeGeneres Show* and the glitzy Stand Up To Cancer stage, amplifying its emotive edge under poignant circumstances.

Chart-wise, the song’s reception was respectable, finding its way onto the Canada Hot Digital Songs chart at number sixteen and ruling the Québec Digital Singles Chart intermittently for weeks.

Its US Pop Digital Songs debut at number twenty-eight and modest performance across France marked it as more of a quiet triumph than a mainstream blowout.

While it may not demand attention like a radio-clinging pop anthem, its restrained elegance cements its place as a heartfelt entry in Dion’s catalog.

It eventually found a home in her Las Vegas residency and subsequent tours, affording it an enduring resonance with her audience.

At its heart, “Recovering” inspects the interplay between personal loss and the tentative steps toward healing, reminding listeners that grief is not linear—nor does it come with a deadline.

Far from splashy, the song succeeds in its ability to communicate a universal human experience while remaining achingly specific to its original muse.

Lifted from : Céline Dion spends two weeks in Vegas (2017)

9 . The Corrs . With Me Stay

The Corrs return after a decade-long sabbatical with their sixth studio album, “White Light,” a record that oscillates between nostalgia and experimentation.

“With Me Stay,” an acoustic recasting of the EDM-tinged “Stay,” strips back the gloss to reveal a subdued, folk-oriented heart, all strings and whispers, perhaps aimed at a quieter corner of the listener’s mind.

It’s a moment of introspection in an otherwise varied album, recorded in just five months and punctuated by radio-friendly tracks like “Bring On the Night,” which had its ceremonial debut on BBC Radio 2, and the tender ballad “Ellis Island,” a track soaked in the band’s Irish roots.

This album isn’t just a reunion; it’s a careful recalibration, aiming to bridge old-world charm with a modern edge, although its commercial peak makes more noise abroad than at home.

The Corrs toured Europe extensively to coax these songs into the public ear, yet “With Me Stay” feels like a step back from the stage lights—a choice deliberate, or merely cautious?

Lifted from : The Corrs enchant Manchester (2016)

10 . Judy Collins & Joan Baez . Diamonds and Rust

Joan Baez’s *Diamonds and Rust* has always carried the weight of nostalgia wrapped in a tone of bittersweet retrospection, a sonic postcard from a failed yet unforgettable romance.

Written in 1974, the track recounts an unexpected phone call from a former lover, an event that would serve as the catalyst for one of Baez’s most iconic works.

The muse for this sharp yet tender look at love’s aftermath? None other than Bob Dylan, who looms over the song like a ghost Baez is unwilling to exorcise.

The original recording blends Baez’s smooth vibrato with a folk-rock sensibility that’s both confessional and hauntingly vivid.

By 2016, the song had already been immortalized, but its duet performance by Baez and Judy Collins at Baez’s 75th birthday concert gave it a fresh lens.

This dual rendition was less about technical perfection and more about the shared camaraderie and history between these two titans of folk music.

The concert itself carried the mood of a well-earned celebration, featuring luminaries like Jackson Browne and Emmylou Harris in its roster, giving the night its eclectic flair.

While some might argue that the duet sacrificed the loneliness that made the original so resonant, the collaborative energy adds a sense of musical reconciliation.

Oddly enough, the song’s journey from tender folk ballad to Judas Priest’s 1977 heavy metal interpretation encapsulates its malleability, proving that good storytelling is genre-agnostic.

Durable yet deeply personal, *Diamonds and Rust* continues to epitomize how heartbreak, when filtered through artistry, becomes something others recognize within themselves.

Lifted from : Paul, Jackson, Emmylou et al celebrate Joan Baez (2016)

11 . Barbra Streisand . Cry Me A River

Barbra Streisand’s rendition of “Cry Me a River” is more theater than song, a tempestuous arc of heartbreak delivered with clinical precision.

Her 1963 performance on the *Dinah Shore Show* is a masterclass in vocal melodrama—more dagger than scalpel—as she wrings every ounce of devastation, anger, and vengeance from Arthur Hamilton’s lyrics.

The song itself has a slightly cinematic backstory, originally written for a completely different diva, Ella Fitzgerald, before Julie London’s sultry performance sealed its legacy in 1955.

Streisand’s version, though, leans less on smoky allure and more on operatic excess—it’s heartbreak amplified through a Broadway lens, and it works, depending on your tolerance for emotional overkill.

Recorded during her early Columbia Records sessions, her live band accompaniment provides an almost jazzy undercurrent, adding context to a vocal interpretation that straddles both torch song tradition and a more contemporary, almost confrontational edge.

It’s worth noting that this performance sits miles apart from the more introspective tones of her later works like *The Way We Were* and *All in Love is Fair.*

This dichotomy is part of what makes “Cry Me a River” such a striking marker in her catalogue—it is Streisand in her raw, chin-raised defiance, before the cinematic polish and grand ballads of her later career emerged.

The performance occupies an odd but fascinating niche in her repertoire: it resists subtlety, amplifies excess, and still holds its place as an unshaken cornerstone of her formative years.

Lifted from : Columbia publish Barbra Streisand’s album . ‘The Way We Were’ featuring ‘All In Love Is Fair’ (1974)

12 . Grace VanderWaal . The A Team

Grace VanderWaal’s rendition of Ed Sheeran’s “The A Team,” performed at Paste Studios in New York, carries an intimate charm, amplified by the historical significance of the moment—it’s her first live guitar performance, on an instrument gifted by Shawn Mendes.

The performance itself is raw, with a 13-year-old VanderWaal navigating her newfound fame post-America’s Got Talent while translating Sheeran’s aching narrative of addiction and survival through her uniquely textured vocals.

There’s an endearing vulnerability to watching a young artist at the beginning stages of exploring her musicality beyond ukulele-bound pop tunes. Stripped of studio polish, she leans into the emotive resonance of the song, offering a quieter, fragile interpretation that plays into her strengths.

Culturally, the moment is significant, tying together threads of mentorship, pop-star camaraderie, and a teenager thrust into a bright spotlight before she’s had time to find her footing.

Though she doesn’t completely reinvent Sheeran’s original, the harmonics and emotional weight in her vocals provide a compelling counter-narrative to her otherwise buoyant songwriting style. It’s not flawless, but its imperfections are the point—it catalogs the transient beauty of an artist learning as they perform.

Lifted from : Grace VanderWaal performs at Paste Studios (2017)