Time For Me To Fly

The Skyward Soar of REO Speedwagon's "Time For Me To Fly"

There's something undeniably uplifting about a song that captures the ache of letting go while promising new horizons. REO Speedwagon's "Time For Me To Fly," released in 1980, does just that—it's a power ballad that propelled the band from arena rock staples to radio darlings. As a one-hit wonder in the truest sense for some audiences, it lingers in the collective memory like a heartfelt goodbye at an airport gate. Let's dive into its story, from the sparks of creation to its enduring echo.

The Heartache Behind the Melody

The song emerged during a turbulent time for REO Speedwagon, right after their 1978 album You Can Tune a Piano but You Can't Tuna Fish underperformed, leaving the band—led by singer Kevin Cronin and guitarist Gary Richrath—scrambling to redefine their sound. Cronin, the emotional core of the group, penned the lyrics in a moment of personal reckoning. Fresh off a painful breakup, he poured his soul into lines like "I've been waiting for the moment to share my feelings," reflecting that raw sting of unrequited love mixed with the resolve to move on. It's no coincidence the title evokes flight; Cronin has shared in interviews how he felt trapped in a relationship that was suffocating his dreams, much like the band was fighting to escape obscurity.

Interestingly, the creation involved a bit of serendipity—or maybe stubborn persistence. Cronin demoed the song on a four-track recorder in his basement, strumming chords that blended the band's hard-rock roots with a softer, more accessible edge. Richrath added those soaring guitar riffs that mimic wings unfurling, turning what could have been a simple piano lament into an anthemic rocker. One anecdote that always gets me: during early band jams, Cronin kept tweaking the bridge, frustrated because it didn't quite capture that "flying away" release. He even scrapped a verse about stormy weather, opting instead for the optimistic "I've got to set myself free." That imperfection in the process? It made the final version feel profoundly human.

Recording in the Heat of Ambition

By early 1980, REO Speedwagon holed up at Los Angeles's Record Plant, a studio buzzing with the era's rock elite. Producer Kevin Beamish, known for his work with Heart, pushed the band to layer in lush keyboards and harmonies that gave the track its radio polish. The recording sessions were intense—Cronin's vocals were laid down in one emotional take after a late-night argument with bandmates about the direction. Drummer Alan Gratzer recalled the air thick with cigarette smoke and determination; they nailed the rhythm section in a single night, with bassist Bruce Hall locking in a groove that pulses like a heartbeat quickening for takeoff.

What stands out is how the tech of the time shaped it: analog tapes captured the warmth, but Beamish insisted on multiple overdubs for the chorus, creating that wall-of-sound swell. It wasn't all smooth; a power outage once wiped a guitar solo, forcing Richrath to recreate it from memory, infusing it with even more fire. Those circumstances brewed a track that felt alive, urgent, like the band was recording their own escape.

Release and the Rocket to the Charts

Issued as the second single from the album Hi Infidelity in November 1980, "Time For Me To Fly" initially flew under the radar amid the disco-to-new-wave shift. But Epic Records' savvy promotion, tying it to the album's themes of love and redemption, sparked magic. It peaked at No. 56 on the Billboard Hot 100—not a chart-topper like their smash "Keep On Loving You," but it carved a niche on AOR stations. Radio DJs latched onto its emotional hook, and by spring 1981, Hi Infidelity had sold over 10 million copies, propelling the single into constant rotation.

The success story? It was grassroots at first—fans requesting it at concerts turned it into a live staple, with Cronin belting it out to roaring crowds. Internationally, it resonated in Canada and the UK, but in the U.S., it became a sleeper hit, embodying the early '80s yearning for personal freedom amid economic uncertainty.

A Lasting Wingbeat in Rock History

Culturally, "Time For Me To Fly" bridged the gap between '70s arena rock and the MTV-fueled ballads of the '80s, influencing acts like Bon Jovi with its blend of grit and vulnerability. For a generation hitting adulthood, it was the soundtrack to breakups, road trips, and fresh starts—think mixtapes in beat-up cars or prom slow dances that ended in tears. Its impact ripples today; covers by artists like REO's own revival tours keep it alive, and it's popped up in films and TV, evoking that bittersweet nostalgia.

Musically, it showcased how heartland rock could evolve, with Cronin's everyman lyrics proving vulnerability sells. One fun aside: Cronin once joked that the song's success let him afford his first real airplane ticket out of Illinois, closing the loop on its flying metaphor. Decades later, it reminds us that sometimes, the best way to heal is to spread your wings and go.