I never did get the Knack. To me, the band was faceless in a figurative sense; basically synonymous with their giant hit, “My Sharona.” It’s one of those rare songs that seemed to come out of nowhere and reinvent the possibilities of rock. The reverence of that description might imply I think the song is a masterpiece, a landmark on the map of rock history. In a way, I guess it is. But there’s also something built in to “My Sharona” that can’t help but elicit repulsion. It might be intended. Barely hidden in the tangle of springing guitar riffs and palpable pop energy were some plainly sleazy lyrics. And it was the innocent way with which the band vocalized the R-rated couplets that made them kind of creepy. Along with Blondie’s “Heart of Glass,” “My Sharona” – and the album that housed it, Get the Knack--became one of the first giant hits of the so-called New Wave movement. And though the Knack, with their mop-top hair, matching ties and black trousers, may have appeared the epitome of a power-pop band, “My Sharona” didn’t really display the aural trappings of that genre. Though it’s as catchy as the H1N1 virus, it’s not exactly what you would call melodic. The cleanly produced nasty guitar riff sounds less like the Beatles than a sped-up, stuttering Led Zeppelin. And “Sharona” is glued together with that most reviled of old-school rock conventions – the guitar solo. No doubt about it, the Knack made their mark. The problem is that they went on to make several more albums, trying in vain to either come up with a new “My Sharona” or go artistically beyond it. Those goals proved elusive.
But none of that matters. By bequeathing “My Sharona” to the world in an era when the biggest influence on music was Quaaludes, the Knack did their job. And if their way of walking off into the sunset was going the sequel route, so be it.
The Knack’s front man and main songwriter Doug Fieger died of cancer three days ago. He was only 57. I once interviewed Fieger. Based on his Knack persona, I expected someone a little more brash and egocentric. To my surprise, he was warm and forthcoming. He explained that the skinny-tie thing wasn’t meant to be imitative of the Beatles but ironic in an Andy Warhol way. He used the example of the iconic Campbell’s Soup label – the way that, on a can, it told us what’s inside; but as art it told us about ourselves. In just that way, the Knack’s calculated image was a statement about mass hype; it wasn’t mass hype itself. And even with Fieger gone, along with the unreal hype, “My Sharona” – love it or hate it -- lives on. Don’t believe me? Just check your radio.
Jordan Oakes is a local journalist who has written for publications such as St. Louis Magazine and the Christian Science Monitor. He has strong opinions that begin to atrophy if he doesn't exercise his right to express them. Tune in every Wednesday for another installment of Mediatribe - and if you missed last week's post, click here.
