You know what I hate? That Burger King commercial with the guy who can’t sing and the totally inane, bad-nursery-rhyme lyrics. You know what else? The way empathy and kindness have been replaced by cruelty masquerading as righteousness in political and social discourse. Oh, yeah – one more thing. I hate it when people refer to Bowling for Soup as a one-hit wonder.
I know what you’re thinking. I’m hitting on all three third-rails of modern culture. Fast food, politics, and what is and isn’t a one-hit wonder. Well, I didn’t come here to lob softballs.
So – one-hit wonders (hereafter referred to as OHWs). What are they? Who gets to decide? Do you need to be have a single in the top ten? A single-single, as it were. Top Forty? Hot 100? Does this only apply in the US?
I mean, you can find plenty of lists that include Thin Lizzy as an OHW. Thin Lizzy! True enough – “The Boys are Back in Town” was their only single to crack the US top 40, but Phil Lynott and the boys had SEVEN top tens songs in Ireland, and four others in the top 20. Four of their songs were Top Ten in the UK. That is not an OHW in my book.
One song turning two different musical artists into one-hit wonders? That's special
But, my book is kind of sketchy. So I am willing to bend the criteria as it suits me. Today, it suits me.
Knowing my fondness for all manner of cultural trivia, my friend Jonathan recently sent me a song from almost 40 years ago from a band that would qualify as a OHW. What made it special, he pointed out, was that the song was a cover of an original from another band that is a OHW. He wondered if there were other such duos. Same song, which was the one hit for two separate OHWs. Sort of a OHW-once removed kind of deal.
Turns out, there are others. I don’t pretend to know them all, but here are five pretty good examples. They go in chronological order based on the original hit.
"Money (That’s What I Want)," by Barrett Strong (1959) and The Flying Lizards (1979)
We begin with genuine pop music royalty. Barrett Strong, who died a year ago this month, was Motown royalty. Though he would become famous for writing the lyrics for many of the era’s greatest songs (including “Heard it Through the Grapevine,” “Just My Imagination,” and “Papa Was a Rolling Stone,” all co-written with Norman Whitfield), he recorded his first and only major hit with this Berry Gordy/Janie Bradford plainspoken plea for cash back in 1959.
A rumbling blues piano riff opens the door for Berry’s pure-but-a-little-rough tenor singing the famous opening couplet – “The best things in life are free – but you can give them to the birds and bees – I want money.” This song is generally considered Motown’s first hit record, and when your name is first on any list about Motown, that’s a pretty good achievement.
Then, twenty years later David Cunningham and Deborah Evans, two art school students, got together for some lo-fi absurdly minimalist takes on a few classic songs. They did a version of “Summertime Blues,” but their huge success came with a truly bizarre take on that first Motown hit. Instead of the rumbling piano/horn/guitar arrangement on the original, the Flying Lizards open with what sounds like a kid banging on a trash can, before giving way to what might be an out-of-tune ukulele. And then Evans' atonal, slightly pissed-off vocals seal the deal. This is truly a cover that attempts something different and succeeds.
(Fun side note: There was this other band that recorded the song in between these two versions, but they didn’t have a hit with it. It’s OK, because they had a few other hits along the way. Many years ago, I used to listen to a radio show that would match-up two versions of the same song every week and have listeners vote on which one they liked best. That other band, who I think came from Liverpool, was undefeated in such match-ups. They had won about twenty in a row. Until they tangled with the Flying Lizards. Yes – the Flying Lizards’ “Money” was the only song to beat the Beatles in one of those face-offs.)
"Take a Letter Maria," by R.B. Greaves (1969) and Anthony Armstrong Jones (1970)
R.B. Greaves' fabulous tale of a cheating wife and an available secretary made it to number 2 in 1969. Only the Fifth Dimension’s “Wedding Bell Blues” kept it from the top spot. Greaves sounds a lot like Sam Cooke, which may be because he was Cooke’s nephew.
He spent time in Guyana, England and a Seminole reservation while growing up, and eventually incorporated calypso and mariachi into his unique version of pop-soul. It all coalesced on “Take a Letter Maria,” backed by the awesome Muscle Shoals session players.
A year later, Anthony Armstrong Jones released a country pop version of the song which begins with a jangly guitar before succumbing to the soft-centered piano and chorus which was standard country pop of the day. Jones's voice is fine, with its ever-so-slight twang, and there’s really nothing wrong with his version.
There’s just none of the fire that Greaves brought to it. Still, it would crack the top ten on the country charts, the only time Jones managed that feat. He would stick around the country charts for a few years, mostly playing covers of hits records in the middle of the top 100.
"Rock On," by David Essex (1973) and Michael Damien (1989)
OK – this is pretty simple. David Essex’s original “Rock On,” is one of the coolest songs ever recorded. Michael Damien’s cover is not.
Want more? Fine. Essex comes just after the heyday of psychedelia and a few decades before the emergence of synthpop, but his song is a perfect amalgamation of both. Herbie Flowers, who played the iconic bass line on Lou Reed’s “Walk n the Wild Side” a year earlier, matches it with one of the biggest earworm bass lines of all time. Essex doesn’t sing so much as intone meaningless lyrics, somehow vaguely related to rock and roll. It is legendary. It cracked the top ten in the US. Essex would never get close again. No matter. He was basically a stage and TV actor who had this one glorious moment of rock stardom.
Michael Damien was also a tv actor. He was on “The Young and the Restless” for a million years. I think he is still on “The Young and the Restless.” But he was also a decent musician and singer, and he was very good-looking. (I think that may be why he was on “The Young and the Restless.”)
Unfortunately, his “Rock On” captures none of the cultural zeitgeist that Essex had found in the early ‘70s. It’s just kind of there – a straightforward version of a song that doesn’t have much going for it beyond style and attitude. Of course, Damien made it to number one with the homogenized version.
"Black Betty," by Ram Jam (1977) and Spiderbait (2004)
Lead Belly did it first. He was not an OHW. He most likely adapted his version from an old work song. That was in 1939.
By the time Ram Jam got ahold of it, it had changed. Ram Jam itself had been morphing for years – from the bubblegum of the Lemon Pipers through Starstruck to the swampy blues rock of Ram Jam, they were always just a little off-center. They took Lead Belly’s virtually a cappella song and gave it a down and dirty guitar intro, before getting to the highly insistent vocal punctuated by cymbal and guitar. And an awful lot of “bam-ba-lams.” It burst onto the US pop charts eventually reaching number 18. It was Ram Jam’s only trip into the Hot 100.
Then, 27 years later, Australian band Spiderbait turned up the volume even more. An even more sinewy guitar and an even more snarling vocal propelled the track to the top of the charts in Australia and into the top 40 in the US. Spiderbait would have a bunch of other modest hits in Australia, but nothing approaching “Black Betty.” They would never appear on the US charts again.
"Funkytown," by Lipps, Inc (1980) and Pseudo Echo (1986)
This is the song my friend Jonathan sent me that got me going down this rabbit hole in the first place. Cynthia Johnson, whether her voice is being seriously manipulated or not, sings the hell out of this disco-synth-funk conglomeration. It was the number-one song in the US for a month at the beginning of the Summer, and it still has so many iconic hooks that it has never really gone away. Lipps, Inc. (lip-sync – get it?) had a few more small hits on the dance charts but never again approached mainstream success.
Then, Pseudo Echo, an Australian rock band, decided to record a classic ‘80’s arena-rock version. Somehow, when that bouncy little synth motif sneaks under the big guitars, it all fits together. No – I didn’t think it would work, either. But it does. Singer Brian Canham is definitely not Cynthia Johnson, but he does a credible enough job to once again get us all interested in going to Funkytown.
As with the aforementioned Thin Lizzy, I might be exhibiting some cultural snobbery by calling Spiderbait an OHW. “Funkytown” may have been their only number-one hit in Australia, but they hit the top ten down under plenty of other times. “Funkytown” is just their only flirtation with success in the US, making it all the way to number 6.
There are plenty of honorable mentions that could expand this list. Songs like “Signs,” “One Tin Soldier,” “Break My Stride,” – even the theme from the sitcom “Happy Days.” I’ve tried to figure out if there is something inherent in these particular songs that makes them amenable to being hits for multiple otherwise undecorated bands. So far, I have failed. All I do know is that Bowling for Soup -- regardless of what the charts may say - is not a one-hit wonder.