What If Songs Never Grow On You Again?

Many of my favorite songs of all time were one-listen records for me. Sometimes they were quickly ratified — “No Scrubs” had instant consensus from the co-workers who had gathered to hear a new TLC song; “Word Up” brought passers-by in from the hallways. But “Just Dance” by Lady Gaga took six months for radio to like it as much as I did. “Mickey” was a very lonely six months between hearing it on a UK countdown and America coming around. 

But there were also plenty of songs that got the opportunity to become favorites over time. Some took years. I came around on a lot of ’70s pop after deciding not to be embarrassed by it. Sometimes it was coming to appreciate an artist. Sometimes it was a function of growing up enough to identify with a song. Loved ones have been there for me “Time After Time,” and Cyndi Lauper resonates more for me now. (And, yes, I know that’s not everybody’s interpretation of the song, particularly if they’ve seen the video.)

Mostly though, coming around on songs has happened fairly quickly, and it has been because I spent enough time with them on the radio. Songs sound different with processing. Some feel different next to songs you like. Others are better on the open road. Or when the DJ advocates for them. Songs go from likable enough to great. In 1995, two very different songs — “December” by Collective Soul and “Tell Me” by Groove Theory – had a similar arc around the same time.

Liking a song, or needing to have it grow on me, isn’t the same as judging it to be a hit, something I learned quickly enough to do independently of my own tastes. “Ordinary” by Alex Warren is clearly a hit. It is still one of many placid-to-mid records with a streaming story that don’t yet do much for me personally. But about six weeks into “Sailor Song,” I heard it on SiriusXM Hits1 and a few minutes later on TikTok Radio and finally understood it, at least for a while, as a radio record, even though I would have added it long before then, based on what it clearly meant to the audience. That said, “Sports Car” by Tate McRae took a few weeks for me, both to present as a real hit and to reach the point where it sounded great on the radio, and not too abrasive or busy.

One of the things you could once count on with a developing record was that it would have at least a brief chance to grow on you, even if that was only a few encounters a week over the course of a month or so. Major artists got a little longer, and sometimes their momentum gave a less-than-obvious song a chance. “Don’t Ask Me Why” probably needed Billy Joel’s peak stardom to become a hit. When it did, it became a reliable AC radio tester for 30 years before fading. Was that a worthwhile use of his imperial period? The audience seemed to think so, even if I would have preferred the other third single candidate, “Sometimes a Fantasy.”

As we head for Memorial Day, things are different this year. There was always an inherent risk in releasing a song of summer candidate 6-8 weeks out, but there wasn’t the danger of being judged immediately on your first eight days of streaming. Chappell Roan’s “The Giver” is already over at radio. Other songs are still growing in spins but under scrutiny because of their initial streaming. An already-thin field feels a lot thinner, and it bothers me a lot more when it messes with our summer prospects. I’m hoping not to have to write the column in August about how ballads don’t qualify as Song of the Summer, even if there were no other hits of similar magnitude to “Ordinary.” (There is some comfort in knowing that a few of our 2024 hits weren’t on the radar a year ago,)

I want some time to decide about Ed Sheeran’s “Azizam,” a song I liked well enough on first listen, to see how it plays after a few weeks. Interestingly enough, so does Spotify’s Today’s Top Hits, where it’s still the No. 12 song, similar to its CHR chart showing. (For what it’s worth, a radio friend who plays it every day has come to really like the song.) I’m less adamant about holding on to “The Giver” — a song that streamers abandoned quickly. But Roan’s “Good Luck, Babe!” and “Pink Pony Club” did go from good to great for me over the course of their runs, so I don’t completely discount it. In general, I want our core artists to get some time to develop so that radio will have core artists.

The rush to judgment is also putting extra strain on the songs that we generally agree to be hits because if they don’t come through right away, there’s not much else. “Messy” was so exciting and so badly needed that some programmers were disappointed that it was not a consensus power rotation song within four weeks. “Anxiety” had massive streams, followed by decent but declining streams. Radio is doing the right thing with that one by taking maximum advantage of it now. If the combination of “hot artist” and “much-loved sample” turns out to be good for nine weeks instead of nine months, that’s no problem as long as there’s something to replace it.

I don’t want mediocre songs to linger indefinitely as they crawl to No. 10 or No. 5 and stink up the radio in the process.  But, as long established in this column, I don’t want to have only one gatekeeper either, or to depend on an audience that may actually be less active than callout respondents.  Having a song that grows on you is one of the great things about hit music, and one more thing that I’m hesitant to lose.