”Fast Car” and its buzzworthy Grammy moment have a lot to teach us about healing.
With the strum of familiar chords, audiences watching the 66th Grammys erupted with joy before the lights came up to reveal four-time winner Tracy Chapman singing the iconic single, “Fast Car.” By now, you’ve heard about the moment. But no one expected the reclusive musician, who had performed live only three times since her last tour in 2009, to take the stage alongside country star Luke Combs, whose cover of Chapman’s hit earned a Grammy nomination that night.
If you knew anything about Combs’ history with racism, maybe the combination was all the more surprising. But that’s the thing about great songwriting.
As Chapman and Combs traded emotional verses, the moment felt to some like a salve for a nation wanting to heal from division. Chapman and Combs have seemingly little in common — Chapman is a queer, Black woman known for human rights activism while Combs is a straight, white man topping charts in a genre that hasn’t historically been inclusive to Black, queer, or women artists.
Chapman’s exploration of generational poverty in “Fast Car” and the often unattainable dream of a better life is like a live-wire into this shared experience we call being human. Legions of fans on social media are sharing about the multiplicity of memories in which “Fast Car” helped them through hard times. In some ways, Combs could be any of us. He’s a placeholder, standing in for anyone, from any background, who has felt trapped by their circumstances.
But we live in a country with an often disturbing past, and today wrongs compound upon harms. So if we felt any togetherness in that Grammys performance, it might be because Combs is also a stand-in for the many who’ve gotten it wrong along the way and are trying to get it right.
The hauntingly beautiful lyrics to “Fast Car” have the power to stop you cold and consider your life. You’re never quite sure what happens but end up driven to tears. This mystery is exactly how the song became an instant hit in 1988. Two months after her debut album was released, Chapman was invited to perform a short set at a televised tribute concert for Nelson Mandela’s 70th Birthday at Wembley Stadium. Afterward, organizers pleaded with her to go on again as a last-minute substitute for Stevie Wonder, who was having technical difficulties. Guitar in hand, Chapman reemerged onstage to face the impatient audience of thousands. Her voice shook as she sang:
You got a fast car
I want a ticket to anywhere
Maybe we make a deal
Maybe together we can get somewhere
Any place is better
Starting from zero, got nothing to lose
Maybe we’ll make somethin’
Me, myself, I got nothing to prove
The song cut through anything that had been going wrong, as it always does. And the massive crowd was lulled into silent approval. People were awestruck. Some wept. That televised performance propelled “Fast Car” to No.6 on Billboard’s Hot 100. Chapman won three Grammys that year.
A young Luke Combs says he felt equally moved by the song as a boy growing up in North Carolina. He remembers being first drawn to the song while riding along in his father’s truck. “That song meant a lot to me since then—for my whole life. I always think about my dad when it comes on and us spending time together,” he said in live footage from a concert posted to his Instagram.
Combs introduced “Fast Car” to a new audience by including a cover of the tune on his fourth album, Gettin’ Older. When his version of the song landed on the top of the Billboard Country chart in 2023, it struck a nerve for some who are keenly aware of country music’s history of excluding women, and Black and queer artists. In a Washington Post article, Emily Yahr wrote, “Although many are thrilled to see ‘Fast Car’ back in the spotlight and a new generation discovering Chapman’s work, it’s clouded by the fact that, as a Black queer woman, Chapman would have almost zero chance of that achievement herself in country music.”
History is filled with examples of white artists co-opting Black music and overshadowing their legacies. To quote an artist interviewed for the Post article, Jake Blount said, “I thought about how Big Mama Thornton’s ‘Hound Dog’ was consumed by Elvis Presley or how Memphis Minnie and Kansas Joe McCoy’s ‘When the Levee Breaks’ was overshadowed by Led Zeppelin, along with endless other examples of the ‘white male genius’ archetype that often receives credit for songs by Black artists. We know Black visionaries who have created incredible, powerful, influential works ... that have been forgotten and erased. It’s not malice from the white artists making derivative music based on theirs, but it’s how society works.”
The web of controversy is further complicated by Combs’ own history with racism. Combs collaborated with white country rap artist Upchurch on the song “Can I Get a Outlaw.” The video for the song prominently features confederate flags, and Combs sports a sticker of the flag on his guitar.
Combs later apologized for his involvement in the video. In 2016, representatives for Combs asked that his name be removed from the song, explaining he no longer wanted to be associated with the imagery. Combs also distanced himself from Upchurch — who called him out on social media for being a “sellout” and not staying true to his “country roots.” Then in 2021, Combs expanded on his apology during a panel discussion at the Country Radio Seminar. “There’s no excuse for those images,” he said.“I’m not trying to say, ‘This is why they were there and it’s OK that they were there.’ It’s not OK. As a younger man, that was an image I associated to mean something else. As I’ve grown in my time as an artist, I am now aware how painful that image can be to someone else. No matter what I thought at the time, I would never want to be associated with something that brings so much hurt to someone else. I apologize for being associated with that. Hate is not part of my core values. It’s not something I consider a part of myself at all. I’m just looking to be here and not say ‘I’m so sorry, please forgive me.’ I’m trying to learn. I’m trying to get better.”
Folx will have to decide for themselves whether Combs has atoned for his past. Regardless, his actions now serve as a model for other white artists. The popularity of Combs’ cover has so far generated nearly $500,000 in royalties for Chapman as the owner of the song. It’s made her the first Black woman in history to have the sole songwriting credit on a No. 1 country hit. And she became the first Black woman ever to take home a Country Music Award.
Queer fans on Threads also took note of the fact that Combs made the conscious choice not to change any lyrics, including the gender.
Combs is also careful to cite Chapman in every discussion of the song and during his live performances. “Tracy Chapman wrote this perfect song that I first heard with my dad and it has stayed with me since,” he told Billboard. “I have played it in my live show now for six-plus years and everyone — I mean everyone — across all these stadiums relates to this song and sings along. That’s the gift of a supernatural songwriter.”
A songwriter like that has the power to silence the problems of an entire stadium. Even for a moment, she can bring us together, or help us start over.
When she released her third album, New Beginning, in 1996, Chapman talked often about her belief that we’re never stuck. She told interviewer Charlie Rose that, “So many of the songs on this record relate to the idea that we all have an opportunity to re-create our lives and to re-create this world, hopefully, in a better shape and form.”
Did you catch last week’s issue?
The Chapman OG version is so much better but I can also appreciate Combs bringing this back to the main stream for a younger audience. In the end it also brought us this performance at the Grammys and seeing her perform life onstage
Thank you for this perspective, you genius human. Your writing gives me hope for humanity! ❤️