Some songs just stick. You know the ones—they feel like a damp sidewalk at 2:00 AM or the smell of old piano wood and gin. Like Someone I Love is exactly that kind of song. It isn't just a relic from the Great American Songbook; it’s a masterclass in how to write about that weird, floating feeling of falling for someone when you didn't see it coming.
Honestly, most people today might recognize the melody without knowing the name. It’s been covered by everyone. From Bing Crosby to Björk. Seriously.
The song made its first real splash in the 1944 film Belle of the Yukon. It was written by Jimmy Van Heusen with lyrics by Johnny Burke. At the time, it was just another movie tune, but it had this DNA that jazz musicians couldn't leave alone. It’s got this deceptive simplicity. It starts out sounding like a straightforward ballad, but the harmonic structure is a playground for improvisers.
The Day the Song Changed
While Bing Crosby took it to the top of the charts in the mid-forties, the version that usually stops people in their tracks is the 1957 recording by Bill Evans on Time Remembered. Or maybe the Chet Baker version.
Chet had this way of singing like he was exhaling smoke. When he performs Like Someone I Love, he captures the literal lyrics—the "stumbling into poles" and "looking at the ceiling"—with a vulnerability that feels almost uncomfortable to eavesdrop on. It’s not a "power ballad." It’s a confession of clumsiness.
Van Heusen was a pilot. Did you know that? He used to fly for Lockheed during the day and write hits at night. Maybe that’s why his melodies often feel like they’re soaring or drifting. They have air in them. Burke’s lyrics, on the other hand, are grounded in the physical awkwardness of romance.
Why Jazz Musicians Obsess Over These Chords
If you ask a guitar player or a pianist why they keep calling this tune at jam sessions, they’ll tell you about the "changes." It’s in E-flat major usually. Or C major if you’re feeling lazy.
The song moves through these secondary dominants that feel like a heartbeat skipping.
- It starts on the tonic.
- It immediately dips into a ii-V progression that leads you somewhere you didn't expect.
- It resolves, but only for a second.
This harmonic instability perfectly mirrors the lyrical content. You're "leaning on a door" or "feeling like a fool." The music feels as off-balance as the person in the song.
John Coltrane tackled it on Lush Life. Think about that. The guy who basically reinvented the saxophone found something worth saying in this "simple" pop tune. His version is faster, more muscular, but the longing is still there. It’s the contrast that works. You have this aggressive, virtuosic playing meeting a melody that is essentially about being shy.
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The Lyrics: A Study in Introversion
"I'm all at sea."
That’s a great line. Johnny Burke wasn't trying to be Shakespeare; he was trying to be human. Most love songs from that era are about "I love you so much I’ll die" or "You’re the sun and the moon."
Like Someone I Love is different.
It’s about the symptoms of love rather than the emotion itself. It’s a checklist of someone losing their mind in a very quiet way. You're acting like a person in love, therefore, you must be in love. It’s an outside-in approach to songwriting.
- The way you look at the ceiling.
- The way you don't hear people talking to you.
- The literal physical clumsiness of walking into things.
It’s relatable because it’s embarrassing. Everyone has had that moment where they realized they were "gone" for someone because they forgot how to do basic tasks like walk in a straight line or answer a question.
Björk and the Modern Revival
Fast forward to the 90s. Björk releases Debut.
Nestled among the electronic beats and house-influenced tracks is a cover of Like Someone I Love. It’s just her voice and a harp. It’s startling. By stripping away the big band or the jazz trio, she highlighted the song’s inherent fragility.
It proved the song wasn't just "jazz." It was a universal blueprint.
She recorded it with Guy Sigsworth playing the harp, and if you listen closely, you can hear the mechanical sounds of the room. It’s intimate. It brought the song to a generation that didn't know who Jimmy Van Heusen was and probably didn't care. They just knew the feeling of being "wide awake at four."
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The Common Mistakes People Make with This Song
A lot of singers over-sing it.
They try to make it a "moment." But the whole point of the song is that it's a quiet realization. If you belt Like Someone I Love, you've missed the bus. It’s a song for the small hours.
Musicians also sometimes get too clever with the re-harmonization. They add so many "alt" chords and tensions that the sweetness of the melody gets buried under the weight of a music theory degree. The best versions—like the ones by Stan Getz—keep the lyricism front and center.
Getz’s tenor sax tone was often described as "The Sound." On this track, he breathes through the notes. He isn't just playing a scale; he’s sighing.
How to Actually Listen to It
Don't put it on as background music while you're doing dishes.
Wait until it’s dark. Put on some headphones. Find the Bill Evans version from the album Time Remembered. Listen to how he treats the intro. He doesn't just play the chords; he sets a mood. He uses these sparkling upper-register notes that sound like stars.
Then, compare it to the Sarah Vaughan version.
She has a vibrato that could move mountains, but she keeps it in check here. She treats the words with a kind of reverence. When she sings the word "love," it’s not a shout. It’s a whisper.
Why It Still Matters in 2026
We live in a world of loud everything.
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Everything is a "banger" or a "vibe." Like Someone I Love is the opposite. It’s a reminder that the most profound human experiences are often the quietest ones. It’s the realization you have in the shower or while driving home alone.
It persists because the feeling it describes hasn't changed in eighty years. We still act like idiots when we’re falling for someone. We still lose our focus. We still feel "all at sea."
The song provides a vocabulary for that disorientation.
Actionable Ways to Explore the Standard
If you want to dive deeper into this specific corner of music history, don't just search for a "best of" playlist. Follow the thread of the performers.
- Listen to the "Big Three" versions: Bing Crosby (the original hit), Chet Baker (the emotional peak), and Bill Evans (the harmonic masterclass).
- Study the lyrics by Johnny Burke: Look at how he uses physical objects—ceilings, doors, streetlights—to ground an abstract emotion.
- Analyze the "Bridge": If you’re a musician, look at how the song moves from the A section into the bridge. It’s one of the smoothest transitions in the American Songbook.
- Find the outliers: Seek out the Björk version or the Keith Jarrett versions. See how the song survives different genres.
The best way to appreciate Like Someone I Love is to hear it as a conversation. Every musician who plays it is answering the version they heard before. It’s a long, eighty-year-old dialogue about what it feels like to lose your footing because someone caught your eye.
Go find a quiet room. Hit play. Let yourself feel a little bit clumsy.
There is a specific kind of magic in a song that can make a modern listener feel exactly what a moviegoer in 1944 felt. It’s a bridge across time. It’s a short, three-minute reminder that some things about the human heart are just permanent.
Next time you find yourself staring at a ceiling at 3:00 AM, you'll know exactly what the song was talking about. You're not crazy. You're just acting like someone in love.