
A poignant reflection on a love that cannot be contained by the desire to settle down.
The year was 1967. The “Summer of Love” was in full swing, and a young, relatively unknown singer named Linda Ronstadt was about to lend her remarkable voice to a song that would forever capture the spirit of that transformative era. The song was “Different Drum”, and it would become the first major hit for her band, The Stone Poneys, and a harbinger of the superstar career to come. For many of us who remember those days, this song isn’t just a tune; it’s a memory, a feeling, a moment in time when everything seemed possible.
The song’s story is almost as interesting as the song itself. It was written in 1964 by a then-aspiring songwriter, Michael Nesmith, who would soon become a member of the iconic group The Monkees. He actually offered it to his band, but the producers of the Monkees’ TV show turned it down. It found its first home with the bluegrass group The Greenbriar Boys before landing in the hands of The Stone Poneys. Originally, Nesmith penned the lyrics from a male perspective, but for Ronstadt, the pronouns were changed, allowing her to deliver a powerful message of independence from a female point of view—a truly revolutionary act for the time. She wasn’t just singing a song; she was a voice for a generation of women who were starting to demand more from life and love.
On the charts, “Different Drum” was a quiet storm. It climbed its way up the Billboard Hot 100, peaking at No. 13. While it may not have hit the very top, its impact was far greater than its chart position might suggest. It resonated deeply with listeners who felt a similar pull between companionship and personal freedom. It spoke to the universal truth that sometimes, two good people can be traveling in different directions, and forcing a relationship to fit a traditional mold will only lead to pain. The song’s narrator, with a voice full of both conviction and a hint of sorrow, tells her would-be suitor that their lives are moving to the beat of a “different drum,” a metaphor for their fundamental incompatibility. The honesty in the lyrics—”it’s not that I knock it, it’s just that I’m not in the market for a boy who wants to love only me”—was a breath of fresh air. It was a refusal to apologize for one’s own desires, and for a young woman to articulate that so clearly and unapologetically was something truly special.
The recording session itself holds a fascinating footnote to the song’s legacy. The Stone Poneys had intended to record an acoustic, folk-ballad version, but producer Nick Venet had other ideas. He brought in studio musicians, including a pre-Eagles Bernie Leadon on guitar, and added a harpsichord and strings, transforming it into the baroque-pop masterpiece we know and love. Ronstadt herself later admitted to being “confused” by the new direction, even perceiving “fear and a lack of confidence” in her own performance. Yet, it’s that very vulnerability, combined with the power of her vocal delivery, that makes the recording so compelling. The tension between her raw, earthy voice and the polished, almost classical arrangement creates a unique beauty. It’s a sonic representation of the song’s core theme: the struggle between the desire for freedom and the pull of a stable, conventional life.
For those of us who came of age with this song, it’s a time capsule. It evokes memories of cruising in a car with the windows down, the radio blaring, and the whole world feeling wide open. It reminds us of a time when we, too, were maybe not “in the market” for anything that would pull the reins in on our youthful explorations. It’s a song that captures the bittersweet essence of a farewell that is both necessary and kind. It’s the sound of a generation learning to walk its own path, to follow its own rhythm, to march to a “different drum.”