
I can’t keep up. Just one month has brought so many losses, so many people who shaped our culture and our world in indelible ink. From Sondheim to Bogdanovich. And now Ronnie Spector, inspiration to three generations, from the Stones to Amy Winehouse. Joey Ramone revered her above all others.

While it’s difficult to measure the impact of someone like Ronnie Spector – and the Ronettes – at least in a specific way, all you can really say is: before the Ronettes the world was one way. After, the world was another.
One of the best things ever written about Ronnie Spector is in the book Here She Comes Now: Women in Music Who Have Changed Our Lives , made up of different writers writing essays on different musicians, as varied as Aretha, Liz Phair, Dolly. and Mary J. Blige. Kim Morgan (a friend of mine, and co-screenwriter of Nightmare Alley) writes about Ronnie Spector. I highly encourage everyone to buy the book (part of the Mixtape Series), Kim’s essay is a standout, and crucial to expressing the thesis of the book, its central concern, to pay tribute, to contextualize the artist, in terms of what they did, what they brought, and how they “changed our lives”. Kim Morgan does that, in her specific-as-a-fingerprint unforgettable writing.
When a Ronettes song comes on, it still stops you in your tracks. I wasn’t even alive during their heyday. I understand, intellectually, what happened and why they were such a huge deal, and how influential their sound was (and the production thereof). But you don’t need context to be struck by their sound, you don’t need to know everything to respond to what’s going on there. Her voice. Their voices together. The bigness of the sound around them, making them seem even bigger than they were: giants, to “compete” with the “wall of sound”. The emotion you can hear in her voice. The humor, too, the slyness and knowingness, the sense of realism, real things experienced by real women.
It’s not every day a song like “Be My Baby” comes along.
Watch her performance. Watch how she connects with the audience. Watch her body language, how unfettered it is, despite the tightly controlled energy of the trio. Watch what she does at around the 1:06 mark, with “I’ll make you happy, baby …”
Ronnie Spector MEANS that.
Ronnie Spector remained a vital force after the heyday of the Ronettes. She survived. The 70s, the 80s. People are still imitating her. People will continue to discover her. She will always seem fresh, new, inspired.

Ronnie Spector, with Phil Spector in the background. 1966. Photo by Dennis Hopper



I’d never heard of Here She Comes Now, so thanks for the recommendation. Kim Morgan wrote a fantastic piece on Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, so I’m looking forward to reading her piece on the Ronettes.
I was lucky enough to see Ronnie Spector in concert, along with Martha Reeves and Darlene Love. It was one of the great nights of my concert-going life.
that concert sounds incredible.
Kim Morgan’s blog – Sunset Gun – is a goldmine if you haven’t visited. She also wrote regular pieces for the New Beverly Theatre website (until the pandemic closed the theatre). Plus a Playboy cover story on Marilyn Monroe. Great writer.
Your comment about how she connects with the audience is spot on. I had the great fortune to see her in concert about 6 years ago, and she just lit up the room.
Unfortunately for someone who feeds off audience energy, the room was a small jazz club (read: older patrons) in Minnesota. Minnesotans are famously stoic at concerts; they show their appreciation by being silent and still, which is not what Ronnie was about. When she came out after the break, having changed into a Santa-themed cat suit, our table way in the back whooped and catcalled and you could tell she was THRILLED to get this reaction. She immediately turned to our direction and sang the whole first song of the second half to us. Even while she was 500 feet away it’s like she was right in front of us.
Highlight of the year.
James – oh my gosh, what a great memory!! I love it! She was so happy you were there – she needed to know people were appreciative. Incredible! You are so lucky to have had that experience.