Willie Nelson, “I Don’t Know a Thing About Love”

The 89-year-old country icon repurposes 10 compositions by Harlan Howard with a heaping tablespoon of authenticity courtesy of a heart once broken.
Reviews

Willie Nelson, I Don’t Know a Thing About Love

The 89-year-old country icon repurposes 10 compositions by Harlan Howard with a heaping tablespoon of authenticity courtesy of a heart once broken.

Words: Kurt Orzeck

March 03, 2023

Willie Nelson
I Don’t Know a Thing About Love
LEGACY

For all the impact he had on country music and popular culture at large during his long life, Johnny Cash will forever be remembered for the note on which he went out. Cash’s American Recordings depicted, with near-Biblical majesty, the long stare between mortal being and death. Unlike Cash, who seemed determined about his demise after wife June Carter passed, fellow Highwayman Willie Nelson doesn’t know when he’ll have his last meet and greet. But what he can do is pick the theme to his exit music. For now, at least, Nelson is choosing love—and all the questions that come with it, no matter how many candles are on his next birthday cake.

While Nelson harbors enough wisdom to serve as a god-like character in the modern world, I Don’t Know a Thing About Love finds the seemingly immortal 89-year-old songwriter reminding us that he’s only human (plus, Nelson is still so busy asking questions, he doesn’t have time to come up with any answers—other than that he simply doesn’t know). The record finds the Red-Headed Stranger repurposing 10 compositions by Harlan Howard. If you’ve ever wondered what real country music sounds like, look no further than the heritage American songwriter (or Nelson’s interpretation of songs by him). Weepy slide guitars, acoustic strings, an upbeat jostle, and a three-chord progression is really all it takes. That and a heaping tablespoon of authenticity courtesy of a heart once broken.

Or still breaking. “Why couldn’t you be contented with the love I gave?” Nelson wonders on “The Chokin’ Kind,” which refers to love’s most lethal variety. Later, midway through “Excuse Me (I Think I’ve Got a Heartache),” Nelson’s voice nearly breaks. It’s another reminder that he’s mortal, just like the rest of us.

Nelson’s conclusion can’t be true. For someone with a spouse, three former spouses, and seven children, surely he’s learned a thing or two about love. He’ll surely demonstrate what true affection looks like when his family and friends come together for a two-day 90th birthday bash at the Hollywood Bowl next month. As for death, Nelson doesn’t have time for that. He’s still too busy trying to figure out love—and relishing the profundity of all the questions that come with it.