All things considered — including her then-label’s rejection of an earlier version, a three-year delay and overhaul, virtually zero promotional support for a hodgepodge that would mark the end of her tenure at Warner Bros. — this is still a fairly solid Bonnie Raitt album.
Aptly named for reasons beyond being the ninth assortment since her ’71 debut, Nine Lives (August ‘86) is also hopelessly dated by synthetically booming ‘80s production, like so many other mid-decade titles from established stars seeking ways to modernize their sounds. What worked so well at revitalizing the careers of Heart, Robert Palmer and Steve Winwood doesn’t entirely suit Raitt’s innate rootsiness and rock instincts.
When the shiny textures sync with the authenticity underneath it all, like the opening punches of ‘No Way to Treat a Lady’ (co-written by Bryan Adams) and the Eddie Money-isms of ‘Runnin’ Back to Me,’ the results overcome their gimmicks, the way Stevie Nicks’s best solo stuff from this era can.
But too often the songs seem transitory, especially so in the case of reggae-adjacent ditty ‘All Day, All Night,’ a featherlight feel she’d perfect a few years later with ‘Have a Heart.’ (Better is a convincing take on Toots Hibbert’s ‘True Love Is Hard to Find.’)
Mismanagement over the making of this record would be the last straw for Bonnie. She soon parted ways with WB, reemerging on Capitol at the end of the ‘80s with a wizened sleeper success, Nick of Time. Once the ‘90s were underway, she’d ascended to Grammy-venerated superstar.
For the purposes of my deep dive into Christine McVie’s history, however, we need examine only one piece, the closing ‘Angel.’
A lovely ballad spared from the dominant gloss, the song is lifted heavenward by a chorus of Beach Boys-esque backing vocalists, including McVie, Blondie Chaplin (the voice of ‘Sail On, Sailor’) and the subject of a recent post in this series, Todd Sharp.
Listen close and you can hear Christine.
Wonder if she cut her parts in ’83 or ’86.