May 9, 2025      —–     Chart #297

Hello Music Friends,

Hey folks, welcome to another edition of Chart of the Week. This week we’re taking a soulful dive into one of the most heartbreakingly beautiful tunes to ever grace a turntable: “The First Cut Is the Deepest.” And before you go giving credit to Rod Stewart or Sheryl Crow or whatever cover version you slow-danced to in a dimly lit Chili’s — let’s set the record straight: this heart-wrencher was written by none other than Cat Stevens, back when he was still going by Cat and not yet taking calls from the spiritual department.

Yes, Cat Stevens — the same guy who could make you cry over a cup of herbal tea — wrote this song in 1967, at the tender age of 19. Which is impressive, considering most of us at 19 were writing breakup poetry on Taco Bell napkins. Not Cat. He was busy penning a song so emotionally accurate, it ought to come with a box of tissues and a two-drink minimum.

Now, fun fact: even though Stevens wrote it, he wasn’t the first to release it. He originally gave it to P.P. Arnold, a powerhouse soul singer and former Ikette who recorded the first version — and crushed it. It became a UK hit, giving Arnold a long-deserved moment in the spotlight and giving the rest of us a reason to sob into our pint glasses.

But Stevens’ own version? That came a little later, appearing on his 1967 album New Masters. It’s stripped down, raw, and delivered with the sort of weary sincerity that sounds like he’s already tried dating again and it just ended with another sad walk home from the train station.

The song is a lyrical gut punch: “I would have given you all of my heart / But there’s someone who’s torn it apart…” That’s not just heartbreak — that’s British heartbreak, which means it’s more polite but somehow even more devastating. And the chorus? Good luck getting through it without some flashbacks to your first love and the song playing during your high school prom clean-up shift.

Musically, it’s simple and pure, the kind of tune that makes you want to sit on the edge of your bed with a guitar and stare wistfully out the window while it rains on a perfectly sunny day. No pyrotechnics here — just the gentle strum of a man who’s been emotionally sucker-punched and is somehow still rooting for love.

And yes, Rod Stewart gave it a glorious raspy spin in 1977. Sheryl Crow modernized it in the 2000s with her smoky delivery. But make no mistake — Cat’s version is the blueprint, the original surgical incision to the heart, delivered with acoustic precision and British restraint.

So if you’re feeling a little tender this week, pour yourself something warm, dust off the old six-string, and play this one loud enough to scare off any emotional detachment you’ve been cultivating. Just remember: love is a battlefield, and Cat Stevens was out there getting wounded for us long before it was cool.

Keep Rockin’,
Stan Bradshaw