So I've been chewing over something for a while now, and was spurred by a recent post bemoaning the difficulty of writing a really catchy hook.

At various times I have become aware of songs that have accomplished the feat of containing numerous catchy hooks -- the multi-hook masterpieces.

My first inkling of this came with the first song I ever thought of as my favorite -- young Schwah's first foray into ranking music. One of my first albums was John Cougar's American Fool, purchased on the heels of hmy first favorite song, his mega-hit "Jack and Diane." I remember singing the song to a neighbor kid who promptly told me that song sucked. Undeterred, I began singing the bridge "So let it rock, let it rooooll, let the blah blah blah save my soooooul." (I was young. I didn't know what a Bible Belt was.) My neighbor responded, "oh, but that song is cool." He didn't believe me when I said they were one and the same. "How interesting that one song could cause such separate reactions from the same person," I thought.

Much more recently I heard a review of "I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor" when it came out in the States. The reviewer was wowed that there were three or four good hooks, each strong enough to carry its own song, in the first few minutes alone. I was so intrigued by that description, that the song was almost a letdown (although I do enjoy it quite a bit).

Now there is a category of multi-hook masterpieces where the hooks purposely do not hang together... they are mini-suites. The paradigm, of course, is "Bohemian Rhapsody." I also like "Suite: Judy Blue Eyes" as well.

But a particularly impressive multi-hook masterpiece will weave the hooks together seamlessly. As cheesy as it is, you have to give it up to Van Halen's "Jump." From the keyboard opening that every kid tried to play on the middle school keyboard after "Heart and Soul" to the nearly monotone hook: "Can't you see me standing here I've got my back against the wrecking machine/I ain't the worst that you've seen/Oh can't you see what I mean?" Well no, Diamond Dave, I have no idea what you mean, but damn that's catchy. Then comes that hooky chorus.

Another recent impressive example is "In Da Club." No, the hook doesn't have to be a tune. That song is just one hook (Dr. Dre's relentless and instantly recognizable opening beat) after another ("Go shorty, it's your birffffday") after another ("I'm into havin' sex, I ain't into makin' love/ So come give me a hug, if you're into gettin' rubbed")

So which multi-hook masterpieces am I forgetting? Which are your favorites?

I think "Bohemian Rhapsody" is probably THE one, but I have to mention "Killing in the Name" from Rage Against the Machine. There's the chorus with the "Killing in the name of"-shout, then there's the "Some of those that work forces"-line that is repeated throughout the song in very chorus-like manner and then there's the climatic "Fuck You, I won't do what You tell me"-part at the end.
It's hard to tell, which one is the verse and which one is the chorus...

And another obvious choice is "Happiness is a warm gun" from the Beatles. It actually consists of three different pieces that are put together in one song.
The "I need a fix"-part, the "Mother Superior jumped the gun"-part and the "Happiness is a warm gun"-part.

"Teenage Kicks"

enough said.

I think that's OK Computer's trick. The songs each have several songs worth of hooks.

Well, after the tepid response to this post, I couldn't leave well enough alone. I have recently become mildly obsessed with three monster hits from the ealry 80's. I'm talking the type of hits that give Casey Kasem an instant erection. The type of monster hits that don't exist anymore now that radio and record stores are dead, and MTV is entirely reality shows.

But, notwithstanding that jokey prelude, I actually have a more serious discussion in mind. This forum is excellent at discussing Animal Collective, analyzing the particular greatness of Radiohead, and debating the relative worth of ...Ziggy Stardust versus Low. But what I haven't seen is something I struggle with: what makes the three songs I have in mind cheesy and bad (if they are, in fact, cheesy and bad, as opposed to cheesy and good, or simply just great) and other more acclaimed songs good. I realize that it will be hard to have that discussion without revealing all three at once, but I want to split this up into three posts and give each song the attention that it deserves (or doesn't deserve as the case may be). Let's start with the monster hit from 1981.

I'm starting with Journey's "Don't Stop Believing"

I was surprised to find that this only reached #9 on the US charts. I remember it as being much bigger. Probably because I had the Journey Escape videogame for my Atari 2600, which played the intro on an endless loop on the startup screen. But apparently, "Open Arms" (which reached #2 and had the epic air instruments video that now is considered the ultimate in early 80's music video craft) was the bigger hit. That was then...

... this is now.

Decades as a classic rock radio staple.
Tony Soprano's pop culture defining death (?) scene.
Petra Haden's cult a cappella cover vesion.
American Idol karaoke.
Pitchfork puts it in its list of the 500 greatest songs since the punk era.
A show choir version that capped the pilot episode of Fox/Ryan Murphy's new musical comedy series "Glee" got released on iTunes and made it up to #4 on the Billboard chart.
I was watching the Tony awards on Sunday and they performed the song there (part of the "Rock of Ages" musical's number). The song is part of the freaking Tony Awards now! It's officially freakin' everywhere.

What has this song come to mean, 28 years later? I'm curious how people who were born after it's release think of it. It's undeniably of its era. The synths! The guitars! Steve Perry's voice of the gods! But it's not simply camp that has kept it apparently vibrant and vital all these years.

Watch the begining of the final Soprano's scene. (BTW, I've been going to Holstein's since long before the Sopranos. The food and the service there sucks, it's dirty as hell, but the ice cream is great.) He sits at a diner booth jukebox. He passes by Heart's "Magic Man" and New York area jukebox staples Jay and the Americans' "This Magic Moment." He sees "Don't Stop Believing" and, of course, keeps looking. He finds Anthony Dominick Benedetto (also known as Tony Bennett). He fishes for some quarters, apparently to play the classic tunes of his father's generation. He punches the keys. In walks the not-so small town girl Carmela, and fading in come that synth/piano riff. He went with a classic tune of his generation... a song that came out as he was starting his way up the organized crime ladder, and dating or just married to Carmela. And after following them for many seasons, it's all there... the joy, the regret, the betrayals, the acceptance, the tragedies, the undeniable evil, the humor, the love (but only as they know how to express it).

That's a lot of freight for one song. Particularly one with some particularly banal lyrics ("the midnight train going anywhere" is bad the first time, and painful the second, but I do like the "smoky room/a smell of wine and cheap perfume") and a faux-inspirational chorus.

Or is it faux-inspirational. "Don't stop believing/Hold on to that feeling." It ain't Dylan, but this is the stuff upon which pop masterpieces usually are built. Sure it's empty. Which just means each listener can fill it up with whatever they choose. It's everything all at once: cheesy, inspirational, moving, rocking, somehow nostalgic and forward-thinking all at once. I suspect, but don't know for sure, that people today react to it the same way that people reacted to Frank Sinatra's "My Way" growing up... it's overwrought, but what the hell, I'll give in. Damn straight... Frank did it his way and I'm gonna do it my way also. Now let's all sing along. Do people today easily see past or even celebrate the bloatedness of the song, as I am coming to do with it? Or do they not recognize it as bloated at all?

As people who are interested being critical about music, how do we decide if all of this is good or bad? How musically has the song acheived this ubiquity? Part of it is the song structure: it's a case of delayed gratification built upon a long build. We don't get the chorus until the very end, after the intro, three verses, two instrumental breaks, and two bridges (neither of which lead into the chorus). Upon first listen, you may not miss it. But subsequent listens you keep waiting for that "Don't stop believing" to kick in.

As for hooks, you get the piano/synth riff and thre vocal turns. The riff is slow moving, but classic. The verse ("Just a small town girl/Living in her lonely world") is catchy. I'd argue that the bridge ("Strangers, waiting/Up and down the boulevard") and the chorus are not -- the bridge and chorus to "Open Arms" are better so maybe that's why it was the one to initially chart. What sells the vocal lines on this is one Stephen Ray Perry.

What an instrument that man possesses. It's the vocal equivalent of a war hammer. It is huge and it will bludgeon you to death. It is laughably grandiose and most of us (okay, maybe just me) wish that we could sing that well.

In the end, I think this is all too much for this song (both the pop culture ubiquity and my way-too-long post). I have finally become tired of it . But in six months to a year I'll hear it again and say, "it's overwrought, but what the hell, I'll give in."

Hits from 1982 and 1983 to follow

I actually just went to Holsteins three weeks ago. It is terrible.

Here in Chicago, "Don't Stop Believin'" was also the unofficial theme song for the White Sox team that won the World Series in 2005.

At Lollapalooza last year, the song started playing over the loudspeakers as Gnarls Barkley left the stage (I'm pretty sure that was their choice). The entire crowd, of course, started singing along. The speaker abruptly cut off about halfway through...and the crowd just kept singing.

I think it's pretty safe to say that the song has transcended its own inherent cheesiness at this point, and can't really be called a guilty pleasure anymore. It's just a classic, in and of itself.

Oh, and Schwah - I'm surprised you didn't find room in your appreciation of "Don't Stop Believin'" to mention my personal favorite moment: the spiraling, these-arpeggios-go-to-11 fade-in that marks the first appearance of Neal Schon's guitar, bridging the gap between Tom Scholz and The Edge.

I love "Don't Stop Believing," and your way-too-long post was not in vain. Every single moment of that song is a good one. (Don't forget that high note Steve Perry sings after the bridge).

But I got to thinking about what young people think about the song. It is, in fact, almost universally loved (at least in my circles). It's one of those songs everybody just knows, and if you were to start singing it everyone around you would join in. It's a song that reveals exactly how un-cheesy it is after a few listens, like "Stsyin' Alive" or "Bohemian Rhapsody," when it's like "Wait...this hasn't gotten old yet, it just gets better..."

So if everyone loves this song so much, why will it never rank as highly in any of our polls as Love Will Tear Us Apart or Common People?

Schwah asked the question why the songs aren't great. The concensus seems to be that the song is in fact great. So why doesn't it get the credit as such?

Great, great post, Schwah! I wouldn't ever call "Don't Stop Believing" a guilty pleasure (does such a thing really exist? You either enjoy something or you don't), but rather a classic 80s anthem. It is indeed transcendent and huge, and though it isn't one of my favorite songs, I can understand its appeal. I'm eager to hear your 82 and 83 editions, as those are my 2 favorite years of music.

Thank you for your interesting responses on "Don't Stop Believing." I love "these arpeggios go to 11." Moonbeam, you have certainly been the primary proponent on these boards of the "there are (or should be) no guilty pleasures" school. The ability to convey an unfettered, if not unreserved, joy in whatever music grabs you is, in general, to my mind, a better model of criticism. It is one that the over-analytical part of my brain balks at, but probably shouldn't.

As for guilty pleasures, I just discovered this discussion from two years ago: http://pub37.bravenet.com/forum/static/show.php?usernum=3172289350&frmid=10&msgid=738660&cmd=show "Don't Stop Believing" made an appearance, as did a prominent (but different) single from the next band I will discuss.

I'd love to hear from people who believe that there is little value to "Don't Stop...." It must have its detractors. However, there seems to be a developing consensus that it is a good, worthy song. I may well get the same response on the 1982 song. I'm not so sure about the 1983 song, where I'm expecting more cries of "you're crazy."

I can't do as long of a post for the next two. But my 1982 entry is the one song of the three that is not on the AM top-3000, which is surprising, since it is the year's winner of the Grammy for Record of the Year.

It is Toto's "Rosanna."

What grabs me in this song? Well, I think it's in how the many hooks relate to one another. The intro is at an in-between groove... not particularly hard, not quite slow and smooth. Nothing too much to latch onto except the drumbeat. (Jeff Porcaro seems to have been quite admired.) The first vocal hook comes quickly. It's a nice enough tune when the intial singer first swoops into Rosanna, but nothing special. Then all of a sudden the same tune gains new life when it is repeated a minor 7th higher by another, more rockin' singer. (I'm sorry I don't know their names. I am not going to claim to be any sort of Toto expert. For all I know it could be the same singer changing his tone, although the video shows two different guys.) For some reason that modulation is a bit thrilling, accompanied by the first hard guitars of the song.

The contrast becomes even more apparent as the grandiosity drops out into the lower-register doo-wop-esque bridge. And just as you get used to that new groove, the horn fill - a hook unto itself - blasts forth. This isn't soulful, Stax horns. This is slick and pitch-perfect. Then a short breath of a pause. Then the surprisingly funky chorus. (No, of course, I'm not talking George Clinton-level funk.) Complete with shout-sung harmonies.

Then it all repeats again. Then a solo section that does not match the songwriting we heard before. Then we welcome back the bridge and chorus. I would have been perfectly happy for the chorus to repeat for a few minutes until fade-out, but they throw in a "jazzy" outro.

"Rosanna" certainly sounds like the product of a band made up of seasoned session musicians. There is not a note, a beat, a hair out of place. Transitions from one portion of the song to next, from one singer to another, and from one solo to the next are seamless. It is a slick, oiled machine -- as Hollywood as the latest Simpson/Bruckheimer movie.

Is that to be admired? Reviled? Or is it just the trappings, and all that really matters is the song? I don't think the latter can be the case. Performance, arrangement, and production matter. I would just say that such slickness is not universally bad or good. In this case, I feel that it serves a interesting, different song, and serves it well.

Another great post, Schwah! I'm not too crazy about "Rosanna", but I ADORE "Africa"- it's one of my top 500 songs, for sure. I get all caught up in it and just let it run through me. "Rosanna" is a good song, too, even perhaps a great one, but it doesn't have me singing arias like "Africa" does- seriously, the line "sure as Kiliminjaro rises like Olympus above the Serengeti" combines music with one of my other obsessions- geography. The blissful harmonies and the sudden outburst of "It's gonna take a lot to drag me awaayyyyyy from youuuuuu" are Moonbeam heaven.

As for the "no such thing as a guilty pleasure" thing, I think it's too easy to be so self-aware and dismiss music we naturally like simply because we feel that we should know better. I think that's really a bunch of crap- music can be appreciated for countless reasons and in countless circumstances. I'm not hankering for the next Richard Marx album, but I'll be damned if he didn't mean a lot to me back when I was 9. It may not appeal to people other than kids and soccer moms, but that polished brand of soft rock/rock ballads had its place. That isn't to say that it's above derision (no music is, but that's another discussion), but I'll be damned if I don't want to sing along with "Angelia" and "Hazard" when they pop up on my Ipod.

TA BE indeed would be my favorite of the 3! Actually, looking through the AM list of songs from 1983 makes me absolutely gaga. "Last Night a DJ Saved My Life"? The bubbler "Juicy Fruit"? "Never Stop"? Lucky Frickin' Star? "Let the Music Play"? "Blue Monday"? And of course, "Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)"?

Sometimes I feel that if I were somehow transported to 1983, I'd never want to come back.

Goodness. How could I have gone so long w/o mentioning "Hey Ya." Gotta be about 15 hooks in that song that could carry an entire song.

Schwah, great great comments to the two songs so far. Two songs that I have always had mixed feelings about, but after listening together with reading your essays I now think that they are quite outstanding. Hooks galore! Next song however, I'm sure it is TA BE and my reaction to that is OH NO.

Sorry to keep everyone waiting. Haven't had time the last few days. And honestly I'm questioning whether my 1983 entry is even worth it. But I've come this far, so I'll try and post on it in the next few days...

I realize I must be dense, but what is "TA BE"?

Turn around, bright eyes! I'd live to see your post, Schwah, whatever the song may be. You've made me re-evaluate my thoughts on the first two songs.

Oh, of course...

No it is not Ms. Tyler, although she probably deserves a post of her own.

My choice may be even more controversial.

"Total Eclipse of the Heart" is totally awesome.

I'm still waiting for 1983, Schwah!