Crossing the Great Divide in a Fast Car
“Music can heal the wounds that medicine cannot touch.” — Debasish Mridha
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At the Grammy Awards show last Sunday, Tracy Chapman and Luke Combs came together for a performance of “Fast Car.” Together, they delivered a rendition of Ms. Chapman’s song (one that Mr. Combs covered in 2021) and brought the house down.
Beyond the song itself, the improbability of these two people appearing together on stage had an impact. What did they have in common? Luke ,the younger at 33, is a straight, White country singer from Dickson, Tennessee. Tracy, the elder at 59, is a queer, Black, folk singer from the San Francisco Bay Area. How could these two become collaborators? What kind of harmony could come out of this?
Transcendent harmony, apparently. What an amazing performance!
The words, sung from the heart by both artists, found profound and poignant meaning as they wafted out over our quarreling and divided nation:
“City lights laid out before us and your arm felt nice wrapped ‘round my shoulder
And I had a feeling that I belonged.
I had a feeling that I could be someone. Be someone.”
For five and a half minutes Luke and Tracy, like angels, lifted our hearts with hope, and the possibility that we could bridge the gaps that divide us.
Even as the slightly melancholy first notes of “Fast Car,” rang out, chills ran through my body. The camera, focused on Ms. Chapman’s hands, panned to her face — pure sunshine — and the audience (and I) roared with joy. She responded with a huge smile.
As she sang the opening lines, her eyes sparkled and conveyed how happy she was in this moment. Equally in evidence was a beaming Luke Combs, standing a few feet away, quietly mouthing the lyrics as his shero sang aloud. I saw Luke, the little boy, riding with his father as “Fast Car” played on the cassette tape in their pickup truck. “It was my favorite song before I even knew what a favorite song was,” he once said.
I couldn’t agree more, Luke.
When Tracy Chapman’s album debuted in 1988, I related to her — a queer kid of color trying to make my way in the world. Her album became the soundtrack of my life and I know every lyric to every song. “Talkin About A Revolution” kept me going in the darkest times of the AIDS years, and “Mountains O’ Things,” resonated with me as I was couch surfing at my cousin’s apartment. I listened to “If Not Now,” just before going to sleep and “Fast Car?” That song made me believe in the power of hope.
Fast forward to the present: Mr. Combs’ cover of “Fast Car” won song of the year and single of the year at the Country Music Awards.
Luke Combs was not an easy fit for me. I suspected he might be part of the age-old pattern of White artists appropriating the work of Black artists (think “Hound Dog,” made famous by Elvis Presley but originally recorded by Big Mama Thornton). A photograph of Luke Combs surfaced in 2015 that captured a Confederate flag sticker on his guitar. He apologized and grew from that experience, writing and recording “The Great Divide” in 2021. “Everything is so contentious and heated, and that’s always been super frustrating to me,” he said. “Without a bridge of understanding, it’s near-impossible for people to find common ground.” It was his mission, he continued, to be that bridge.
In his CMA acceptance speech, Mr. Combs said, “First and foremost, I want to thank Tracy Chapman for writing one of the best songs of all time.” Ms. Chapman responded, writing “I never expected to find myself on the country charts, but I’m honored to be there. I’m happy for Luke and his success and grateful that new fans have found and embraced ‘Fast Car.’”
For Luke Combs to get the notoriously private Tracy Chapman to join him on stage at the Grammy Awards took some masterful bridge building. He carried these skills forward in the performance in nuanced, yet powerful ways. Even though the producers billed Ms. Chapman as a cameo, Mr. Combs insisted that Ms. Chapman have total creative control of the performance. He did not bring his guitar on stage, a nod that Ms. Chapman wrote the song, and Ms. Chapman will set the beat. He leaned in and bent slightly at the waist in respect whenever Ms. Chapman sang. He didn’t change the lyrics to fit his gender when he sang, “so I work in the market as a check out girl.” And Mr. Combs bowed to Ms. Chapman at the end of the song, in a gesture of gratitude and respect.
“I think it starts with the music,” Mr. Combs said at the Country Radio Broadcasters conference in 2021, “and that’s a painful process as an artist because you do have people that want to cut you down and say, ‘you don’t know what you’re talking about,’ or ‘you should have said this instead of that.’ But you just have to know where your heart is, and you have to know that you’re doing it for the right reasons. And I think that’s the thing that’s beautiful about being an artist … You push yourself, and you create new boundaries for yourself.”
On a Sunday evening in Los Angeles, Tracy Chapman and Luke Combs got in her fast car (with Ms. Chapman driving), and bridged the divide between age, gender, race, sexual orientation, and geography. In a world filled with so much brokenness, we witnessed a moment of wholeness. And the world was moved. By Monday, Fast Car was #1 on the itunes list.
Tracy Chapman made a brief return to the spotlight, but I imagine she has already returned to her quiet life, content that she brought some sunshine and hope into our world. Ms. Chapman probably didn’t intend or imagine that her performance would result in such a response. And I guarantee that if Luke Combs performed “Fast Car” solo at the Grammys, we wouldn’t be talking about it today. The world is hungry for messages of hope such as the one they delivered together.
We can’t predict the impact of our actions, nor whether they might, as john a. powell says, expand our circle of belonging. For my part, I will think about Tracy Chapman and Luke Combs when I encounter my neighbor who is experiencing homelessness, the grocery store clerk who doesn’t believe in climate change, my 25-year old son, and my 90-year old father.
Tracy and Luke’s performance reminds us that, if we can find ways to reach out and put our arms around each other, then we might feel that we all belong and we can be someone. Be someone.
