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By Chris Dalla Riva

When you ask people about the most consequential years in popular music, there might be no year that comes up more often than 1964. Of course, the most important thing about that year is The Beatles landing in the United States and kicking off the British Invasion. But the year is endlessly discussed because so much else went on.

• The Rolling Stones released their debut album

• Motown became a dominant force in pop music, releasing four number ones, three of which were by The Supremes

• Bob Dylan dropped two albums

• The Beach Boys continued their run of hits

Sometimes it even felt like there were more consequential releases in a single week than there were in entire decades. Take the top five songs on the Billboard Hot 100 from the week of August 15 as an example:

1. “Everybody Loves Somebody” by Dean Martin

2. “Where Did Our Love Go” by The Supremes

3. “A Hard Day’s Night” by The Beatles

4. “Rag Doll” by Frankie Valli & the Four Seasons

5. “Under the Boardwalk” by The Drifters

These are five songs that I return to often. And weeks like this weren’t even that rare in 1964. Just one week later, you had the same songs in the top five, except “Rag Doll” was replaced by The Animals’ “House of the Rising Son,” the song that some claim made Dylan go electric and pushed rock music into a completely new direction.

The one claim that’s always fascinated me about 1964 is that it was a line of demarcation between an old and a new way to make music. If you were making hits in 1963 and didn’t change your sound in 1964, you were going to be waiting tables by the beginning of 1965. In other words, The Beatles-led British Invasion decimated the careers of scores of artists. But was this really the case?

The sound of rock music undoubtedly changed between the beginning and middle of the 1960s. But by looking at the Billboard Hot 100, we can see if that change in sound was being made by a fleet of new groups or a bunch of older acts adapting.

To do this, I grabbed a list of all 175 acts who released at least one top 40 single in 1963. (Fun fact: the record for the most top 40 hits that year was shared by five acts: Bobby Vinton, Brenda Lee, Dion & the Belmonts, Ray Charles, and The Beach Boys. Each had six top 40 hits.) I then decided to see which of those acts never released a hit in 1964 or any year after. In total, 88 of those 175 acts, or 50%, never had a top 40 hit again.

That’s kind of a lot. In other words, The Beatles and their fellow invading Brits killed a lot of careers. Or did they? By looking at only a single year we could be biased. And we are.

If we calculate that same rate for every single year between 1960 and 2020, we see that while the kill rate in 1964 was high, it wasn’t completely out of the ordinary. The median is around 40%. Having a multi-year career as a popular artist is just hard. By looking at the years with the highest rates, we can glean a few other things, though.

First, three of the top ten rates are 1962, 1963, and 1964. In other words, there is some credence to the theory that the British Invasion decimated many careers. Nevertheless, the fact that the rates in 1962 and 1963 are high tells me that sonic changes were brewing in the United States too. Had The Beatles not arrived, rock music probably still would have evolved in a way that would have left earlier hitmakers in the dust. That sonic evolution would have been different, though.

Second, why are half of the years in the top 10 between 1990 and 1999? Part of this is a data quirk. In 1991, Billboard changed their chart methodology. Overnight, hip-hop and country were better represented on the chart. Thus, there was a ton of artist turnover. At the same time, I think we underrate how tumultuous music was in the 1990s. Here are some oddities from that decade that I noted when discussing the swing revival in an earlier newsletter:

• A scuzzy rock band out of Seattle managed to unseat Michael Jackson at the top of the pop charts.

• As this scuzzy alternative rock went mainstream, a retirement-age Tony Bennett revived his career, getting videos in regular rotation on MTV and sharing stages with said rockers.

• Kenny G sold tens of millions of albums by making some of the blandest instrumental music of all-time.

• An album of monks performing Gregorian chants was purchased over a million times.

• Politicians danced the “Macarena” at the Democratic National Convention in August 1996. Two months later, enough people did the dance at a New York Yankee game to set a world record.

In other words, the 1990s were strange. And I think we are just beginning to grapple with that strangeness. Because of that, there was a ton of turnover on the charts. It’s hard for artists to keep up with trends when grunge, gangsta rap, swing, and a new breed of teen pop are all successful in a matter of years. Being a superstar isn’t easy.

Aggregating this data got me thinking about which artists have been able to survive the most musical changes and still find success. While there are artists, like Elton John and The Rolling Stones, who put out hits for decades, I want to point out one artist whose resilience still shocks me: Frankie Valli.

Born in 1934, Valli had his first major hit in 1962 with “Sherry,” a song performed with his group The Four Seasons. Before The Beatles splashed on American shores, Valli and his bandmates had eight more top 40 hits. But they were the kind of group that you’d expect to be decimated by the new sound of rock music. The Four Seasons were sort of a throwback even in 1963, Valli and his falsetto pointing toward the doo-wop of the last decade.

But Valli and his collaborators forged on. They made some musical missteps but they remained a musical force through 1967, releasing bonafide classics, like “Can’t Take My Eyes Off You.” Okay. So, he survived the British Invasion. Some others did too. But Valli didn’t go quietly as the 1960s came to a close.

In 1974, he scored a massive hit with “My Eyes Adored You,” a song that played well with the soft rock that was dominant at the time. Then disco began to boom and Valli remained undeterred. “Swearin’ to God.” “Who Loves You.” “December, 1963 (Oh, What a Night).” The man could not be stopped.

The fact that Valli topped the charts again in 1978 with “Grease” still boggles my mind. I don’t think anybody who heard “Sherry” in 1962 thought that he’d be within a country mile of the charts 12 years later. By the time the hit musical Jersey Boys was made about his life in 2005, his legend was firmly established. But long before that, I was tipping my cap to him.

A New One
“Nosebleeds” by Doechii
2025 – Alternative Rap

I’ll admit that I hopped on the Doechii train late. Like many others, I first listened to her album Alligator Bites Never Heal after it won Best Rap Album at the 67th Grammy Awards. No matter how late I was, I’m happy that I’m here now. Not only is Doechii dextrous as a rapper but all of her beats are groovy and twitchy in a way that feels fresh. “Nosebleeds,” her victory lap after the Grammy win, has all of those things on display.

An Old One
“Bread & Butter” by The Newbeats
1964 – Pop Rock

As I was admiring 1964, I noticed that the week of October 10 had a mind-blowing top five. It included Roy Orbison’s “Oh, Pretty Woman,” Manfred Mann’s “Do Wah Diddy Diddy,” Martha & the Vandellas’ “Dancing in the Street,” and The Shangri-Las’ “Remember (Walkin’ in the Sand).” There was one song that I wasn’t familiar with, though: “Bread and Butter” by The Newbeats.

“Bread and Butter” is fun, little novelty about bread, butter, toast, jam, and losing your lover. The most notable thing about the song is a half-screamed falsetto that appears periodically throughout the song as performed by Larry Henley. Incidentally, Henley is another good example of musical resilience. After his performing career ended, he wrote a few hits over the decades, including Bette Midler’s massive 1989 ballad “Wind Beneath My Wings.”

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