Don Williams’ “It Must Be Love”: The Gentle Giant’s Quiet Confidence in a Timeless Affection
There are songs, and then there are feelings set to music—and Don Williams had a singular gift for delivering the latter. When we think of “The Gentle Giant,” we recall that deep, smooth baritone, that unhurried tempo, and lyrics that felt like the quiet, unwavering truth spoken on a front porch swing. Among his most cherished treasures is the 1979 classic, “It Must Be Love.”
This song, released in July 1979 as the third single from his Expressions album, wasn’t just another hit; it was a perfect encapsulation of the Don Williams sound and philosophy. It solidified his status as one of country music’s most reliable sources of warm, adult, and profoundly sincere balladry. The commercial success was immediate and undeniable: “It Must Be Love” became Don Williams’ ninth single to reach the coveted Number One spot on the U.S. Billboard Hot Country Singles chart, and it peaked at a strong Number 2 on the Canadian RPM Country Tracks chart. For those of us who lived through that era, it was simply everywhere, a mandatory soundtrack for slow dances and quiet evenings.
The genius behind the words belongs to the great songwriter Bob McDill, a frequent and highly successful collaborator with Williams. McDill had a knack for stripping sentiment down to its simplest, most elegant form, and with “It Must Be Love,” he delivered a lyric that asks the most fundamental question about a long-term, comfortable relationship: What is this beautiful, mundane thing we share?
The heart of the song’s story is the realization that true, lasting love often shows up not in grand, dramatic gestures, but in the quiet, dependable rhythm of daily life. The narrator lists all the things his feelings aren’t: “not a fire that burns,” “not a game that you play.” Instead, it is the simple comfort of waking up, seeing his partner’s face, and finding a deep sense of peace. The lyrics capture that moment of quiet awe when you recognize that what you have has survived the fleeting passions and settled into something much, much deeper. This song is for the married folks, the committed couples, the ones who know that passion is wonderful, but permanence is a miracle.
Williams’ production, which he shared with Garth Fundis, is minimal and deliberate. The sound is sparse—a gentle acoustic guitar, a soft bass line, and that signature, liquid steel guitar—all serving to elevate his voice without ever competing with it. This uncluttered approach, which was a hallmark of Williams’ style, is exactly why his music resonated so deeply with an older, more thoughtful audience. It was a refreshing counterpoint to the overproduction starting to creep into other parts of the Nashville sound. There was no bombast here, only genuine, intimate connection.
When you listen to “It Must Be Love,” especially now, decades later, it doesn’t just feel like a song; it feels like a memory. It recalls a time when life felt a little simpler, when love was defined by shared silence and mutual respect. The lyric, “It ain’t too early in the morning / And it ain’t too late at night,” perfectly captures the sense that this feeling is constant, not restricted to certain hours. It’s a comfort to hear, a song that reminds us that the most significant events in our lives are often the ones we don’t even notice happening—until we wake up one day and realize that quiet, steady presence must be love.
Even decades after its release, and even after the song was famously covered by Alan Jackson in 2000 (which also went to Number One, proving the timeless quality of McDill’s writing), the Don Williams version retains its singular power. It carries the weight of his gentle authority, a warm hug of a song that assures us that the most profound emotional truths are often the simplest ones. It is a true gift from The Gentle Giant to all of us who appreciate the quiet grace of a love that simply is.