Pop Autopsy: “Hey There Delilah,” Plain White T’s

If you’ve been conscious at any point over the last…year or so?…you’ve heard this song. It’s been on the radio, or played over the speakers at the grocery store, or showing up on MTV in one of those obnoxious commercials where they try to shove TWO marketing messages in your face at the same time (“Hey! Listen to how batshit Cornell West sounds! Also, watch this shitty reality show!”).

Here it is, in case you haven’t heard it, in a cover version by Brit pop trio Sugababes.

It’s one of those songs I’d describe as “frustratingly okay.” You can tell the songwriter is good, but lacked the awareness or inclination to put the work in required to make this song great. Let’s look at what I mean.

Musically, it’s about as basic as you can possibly get; the driving force in the song is a simple acoustic guitar riff, built around a 1-4-5 chord structure with the occasional minor thrown in for spice.

Hey there Delilah
What’s it like in New York City?
I’m a thousand miles away
But girl, tonight you look so pretty
Yes you do
Times Square can’t shine as bright as you
I swear it’s true

That’s a great verse right there. Simple, evocative, descriptive. You know the narrator instantly, and you know what his situation is: He’s got a girl in NYC, and he’s not there, but he misses her. The Times Square line is clever.

Hey there Delilah
Don’t you worry about the distance
I’m right there if you get lonely
Give this song another listen
Close your eyes
Listen to my voice, it’s my disguise
I’m by your side

Here we get the repetition of the “Hey there Delilah” line starting up, which can seem annoying, but is also in its way effective; it’s not the most intricate phrase, but it works. Even though he’s the one missing her, he’s going to reach out of himself to comfort her with this song.

The only real “off” moment is the “Listen to my voice, it’s my disguise” bit, which lends itself to some kind of weird higher theme regarding the masks we wear to maintain our love, or something. It’s jarring because it contradicts the straightforward simplicity of the rest of the song, and it’s the first moment where if the songwriter had taken time to brutally edit himself, he may have rewritten the line to make the thruline flow better.

Oh it’s what you do to me
Oh it’s what you do to me
Oh it’s what you do to me
Oh it’s what you do to me
What you do to me

Chorus. Again, simple, basic, but it works, because the music is simple and basic, and the melody is simple and basic. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with a simple, basic, pretty song that has a simple, basic message that it conveys clearly. What makes this song just okay and not another “Yesterday” is that it isn’t clear enough, and at critical moments, it’s just lazy and lame.

Hey there Delilah
I know times are getting hard
But just believe me, girl
Someday I’ll pay the bills with this guitar
We’ll have it good
We’ll have the life we knew we would
My word is good

This right here is the heart of the song. We’ve moved from the narrator’s own feelings, to where he’s reaching out to comfort his lover, and now he’s at the crux of the issue: He’s busting his ass in a band to give he and his girl “the life we knew we would.” It’s simply stated, so that it doesn’t come off as some kind of lame bling-bling rock star wannabe boast, which is what unfortunately comes later.

If the song ended right here, it’d be just about perfect. Unfortunately, it doesn’t.

Hey there Delilah
I’ve got so much left to say
If every simple song I wrote to you
Would take your breath away
I’d write it all
Even more in love with me you’d fall
We’d have it all

Okay, we’re treading water here…he still loves her, he wants her to know, he writes songs for her. We get it. The only movement forward it accomplishes is to suggest that he’s got more to say but he’s running out of time, which is maybe enough–the bit about the songs he writes is really good, but it ends with the awkwardly phrased line “Even more in love with me you’d fall,” which is reaching, to say the least. One of the key spots where an aggressive rewrite would have worked wonders.

Oh it’s what you do to me
Oh it’s what you do to me
Oh it’s what you do to me
Oh it’s what you do to me

More chorus. Still repeating. Getting repetitive.

A thousand miles seems pretty far
But they’ve got planes and trains and cars
I’d walk to you if I had no other way

More reassurance; more simple, smart, economic writing.

Our friends would all make fun of us
and we’ll just laugh along because we know
That none of them have felt this way

I like this moment a lot; it’s a rare circling of the love wagons in a pop song, where the singer’s willing to admit that no matter what his friends say, or the world says, he’s going to stick with what he knows and what he has–they don’t know, they’ve never felt this way, and so they don’t matter.

Delilah I can promise you
That by the time we get through
The world will never ever be the same
And you’re to blame

Here, right here, is where it gets shitty. There’s really no context or reason for the song going from “I love you, and I miss you, but that’s okay” to “We’re gonna change the world, and it’s somehow thanks to you existing and me writing this song for you.” It makes the singer seem, frankly, like an asshole. Which he probably is.

Hey there Delilah
You be good and don’t you miss me
Two more years and you’ll be done with school
And I’ll be making history like I do
You’ll know it’s all because of you
We can do whatever we want to
Hey there Delilah here’s to you
This one’s for you

UGH. “I’ll be making history like I do.” This line RUINS THE SONG. It’s confirmation–yep, the singer’s a huge stinky asshole–and it’s idiotically written. “Like I do”? What are you now, Fiddy Cent? Jesus. The “it’s all because of you” bit redeems it somewhat, since the singer’s at least admitting the debt he owes to the reinforcement and strength his love has provided, but fuck, it doesn’t matter, because HE’S AN ASSHOLE. Plain and simple.

Oh it’s what you do to me
Oh it’s what you do to me
Oh it’s what you do to me
Oh it’s what you do to me
What you do to me.

Chorus, one more time.

What’s the takeaway here? A decent song, written by young lazy assholes with talent, ruined by said assholes’ absolute conviction that the basic, pleasant, borderline mediocre song will change the world.

In other words, top forty music largely still sucks, and is made by people who themselves suck. Thanks for reading!