Introduction
What if I told you that one of the most devastating performances in American music history came not from a tragic bluesman or a brokenhearted crooner—but from Linda Ronstadt, a woman whose voice could seduce, shatter, and strip you bare in a single breath?
Her version of “You Go To My Head” is not just a song—it’s an emotional ambush. The moment she begins, it feels like a storm is pressing against your chest. Her voice floats like smoke, fragile and intoxicating, yet underneath lies a dangerous intensity that refuses to let you breathe. This isn’t mere singing. This is Linda Ronstadt stepping into your bloodstream, blurring the line between music and madness.
Most singers treat “You Go To My Head” as a delicate cocktail of romance and longing. But Ronstadt? She turns it into something lethal. Each note feels like a confession you were never supposed to hear, a diary entry ripped open. Her phrasing is almost too intimate, as if she’s whispering to a lover who will never love her back. And the result is terrifyingly beautiful—like watching someone drown in slow motion, unable to look away.
What makes this performance so shocking is its honesty. Linda Ronstadt was never content to simply entertain. She demanded that you feel. She dragged you into her vulnerability, her obsessions, her dangerous surrender to love. Listening to this track is like standing at the edge of a cliff, seduced by the fall.
So here’s the truth: if you dare to press play on Linda Ronstadt’s “You Go To My Head”, be warned. You’re not just listening to a song—you’re stepping into an emotional trap, one that might haunt you long after the music ends.
Video
Lyrics
You go to my head
And you linger like a haunting refrain
And I find you spinning round in my brain
Like the bubbles in a glass of champagne
You go to my head
Like a sip of sparkling burgundy brew
And I find the very mention of you
Like the kicker in a julep or two
The thrill of the thought
That you might give a thought
To my plea casts a spell over me
Still I say to myself
Get a hold of yourself
Can’t you see that it never can be
You go to my head
With a smile that makes my temperature rise
Like a summer with a thousand Julys
You intoxicate my soul with your eyes
Though I’m certain that this heart of mine
Hasn’t a ghost of a chance in this crazy romance
You go to my head
