Make It New: The B-52s – “The B-52s” (1978)

Lately, it feels like the list that I’ve been using has been pairing bands in themes. Previously it was the “down under” combination of The Split Enz and The Go-Betweens. This time around, it’s the new wave oddities Devo and The B-52s. Of course, these two bands have a world of difference between them, but it’s so easy to lob them into the eccentric corner of the genre that is hard to market. Even more than Devo, I listen to The B-52s self-titled album and wonder “how do you sell this?” On the one hand, I love this sound. However, it’s quintessential new wave in that they are weirdos shamelessly making the music that makes them happy. They’re infiltrating rock music and making MTV into a glorified art project. 

And yet there’s a part of me that wonders how The B-52s became the one band that endured. When placed alongside their peers, so many had an initial creative spark and slowly fizzled by the 90s. Instead, they were releasing music up through 2008 and touring up through 2023. Even as they announced the end of their traveling days, there’s suggestion that it’s not over. The band will continue in some capacity. If movie soundtracks are anything to judge success by, they remain just as vital as ever. The week I’m writing this, there’s a marching band cover of “Roam” used in a March Madness ad. Whatever they’re doing works.

The easy suggestion is that they’re a singular band. Very few have imitated their success nor has anyone released a song as distinguished as “Rock Lobster.” Their debut more than proves this as it doesn’t inherently sound commercial. Much like what Devo did to The Rolling Stones, The B-52s interpolation of pop music is antagonistic and fun, recreating the Peter Gunn theme into a sci-fi bop and covering Petula Clark’s “Downtown” in their delirious melodic measure. They may not have a mission statement like their buddies from Akron, OH, but they want to make music that transcends boundaries. It sounds like the kitschy yard sale of the 50’s and 60’s, but it also sounds like the future. Maybe “Rock Lobster” lingers less because of its meaning and more because it’s a satirical commentary on where our lives are headed.

Before doing a proper dive into the music, I want to talk briefly about their origins. Compared to most, the journey to the 1978 album was expedient and lacks hurdles. Everyone in the band met at a Chinese restaurant in Athens, GA one fateful night in 1976. Upon sharing a flaming volcano drink, they decided to do a jam session that included guitars and congas. By 1977, they would perform their first gig for a friend’s Valentine’s Day party. Prior to landing on their official name, they were going to be called either The Tina-Trons or Fellini’s Children. Their official name was said to come in a dream by drummer Keith Strickland. They were on a stage and members Kate Pierson and Cindy Wilson (both vocalists) had beehive hairdos that looked like the head of B-52 bombs. As a result, they shared the look for a portion of their early career.


Their style would become known as “thrift-store chic.” This would feature an influence of junk culture of the 1950s and 60s with an emphasis on dance and surf music. There are also hints of disco as well as jam band techniques. While their sound doesn’t share many comparisons to the prog rock alternatives of the time, their ability to draw out melodies and do stylistic improvisational vocals reflects a technique noticeable in Soft Boys and The Knack. The main difference is that their set-up was more esoteric. Fred Schneider’s nasally voice lead him to becoming known for sprechgesang – a form of speak-singing – that complemented the traditional harmonic vocals of Pierson and Wilson.

If there was a real star of the band early on, it would have been Cindy’s brother Ricky Wilson. All it takes is listening to “Rock Lobster” to understand what Ricky’s contribution was. Few guitarists have tuned their instruments like he did. They also haven’t thought to build measures around melodies with idiosyncratic clangs. Pierson’s assistance on organ would help to build this eerie, horror-laced surf rock melody. Even then, Ricky was a big reason for the band’s success because he wasn’t afraid to write hooks that he would be the first to say was “stupid.” The result is a band built so confident in their style that they’re at worst divisive and at best the most innovative party band of their era.

By 1978, they released their debut single “Rock Lobster” on DB Records and became an underground success. They were booking gigs at CBGB and Max’s Kansas City. While this version of the song differs from the album cut, it was enough to raise interest. The appeal led to their first U.K. gig being attended by members of Scitti Politti and Joe Jackson. By the time their album was released, they would have a fan of former Beatles member John Lennon. He claimed that they were his favorite band and, following a five-year hiatus, was inspired to make music again with Yoko Ono. It would produce “Double Fantasy,” the final album before his death.

Part of me is curious to know what “The B-52s” record would’ve sounded like in 1978. While there have been dozens of new wave bands that have challenged the genre, I can’t imagine them being mistaken for somebody like Pylon or Gary Numan. They were still able to write pop hooks and produce a sound that was initially confusing. The number of songs on the record about outer space are confusing. They’re at best interpretive poetry. Most take turns going back and forth between Schneider and Pierson. Some feature them in harmony, and it’s such a unique experience. I have to imagine it was more exciting at the time. Much like how I first listened to Devo and was amazed at this world of de-evolution, The B-52s proudly dedicating five minutes to lava and moons must’ve felt like a life altering moment in music history.

To bookend the album with “covers” of other songs may be the most brilliant element. The choice to open “Planet Claire” with the riff for the Peter Gunn theme is a bold choice. While it’s a catchy guitar riff that flows perfectly into the song, it immediately creates this gamble with the listener. What follows will either be a hacky rip-off, or the best interpolation imaginable. Schneider’s vocals are able to wander through the lyrics as the harmonies sound like Morse code sending out signals. Wherever Planet Claire is, they seem bound to find it. This is less the work of a b-movie pastiche, but the feeling of an old, cheap sci-fi TV show with a goofy plot that doesn’t make sense. It also helps to convince the audience that wherever this album takes them, it’s going to be supernatural.

The next two songs feel like clever spins on 50s rock with Pierson embodying the likes of Little Richard or Ray Charles. “52 Girls” and “Dance This Mess Around” have something conventional about the dance culture. The listener feels the energy of wanting to get up and move. There is no greater sense in why. It’s just time to give into the inexplicable emotions and feel some joy. When paired with the opener, it feels like landing on an alien planet and learning a new language. Hopefully by the end of “Dance This Mess Around,” the mix of old and new becomes familiar because the back half is going to be the biggest head trip imaginable.


While I’ve touched a lot on “Rock Lobster” already, there is something to hearing it that embodies complete joy. The album cut would feature an additional verse that includes Schneider labeling animals both real and fictitious as Pierson and Cindy Wilson provided sound effects. Clocking in at seven minutes, it would become the epic that new wave was waiting for. Even without a guitar solo, it embodied the grandiosity of the genre and its ability to find something strange in conventional rock music. Many wouldn’t think to make a song about rock lobsters, let alone understand what that actually means. The song is likely to exude joy in most people even as the running time is arguably overwhelming. Still, credit to The B-52s for making something so bold that it would either launch their career or establish them as a one hit wonder with a song so dumb no band member’s second act would be taken seriously. For the record, I think it’s genius and think it’s one of the quintessential new wave classics.

Going through the back half of the album, I think that it’s more of the same mentality. While I don’t think anything from it tops “Rock Lobster,” I think that “Lava” and “There’s a Moon in the Sky (Called the Moon)” are fun songs with the latter being largely nonsensical. I do enjoy Schneider’s ability to have the main motif be the moon while Pierson sings about the other planets in the galaxy. It creates something goofy that works because of Schneider’s earnestness. “Hero Worship” is a great Pierson number that harkens back to 50s rock music and finds her embodying diva behavior over a dance beat. “6060-842” is one of the best songs on the album and has an undeniable chorus. With that said, Ricky Wilson’s guitar muting is my favorite because it creates this disarming melody that sounds like the melody/phone being disconnected. As mentioned, Ricky knew how to make riffs that weren’t just enjoyable, but came with their own personality that complimented Schneider and Pierson.

The finale “Downtown” is a great conclusion. Given that the Petula Clark original is upbeat and celebratory, one would assume that The B-52s would make a conventional cover of it. Instead, they removed the jubilee and replaced it with something slow. There is uncertainty that it is even a proper cover. For those who don’t know the lyrics by heart, there may even be doubt. This could just be the “Planet Claire” B-Side and it’s messing with everyone’s perception of reality. As the song concludes, the party has ended, and the band leaves the world to figure out just what the last 40 minutes of their lives was.

On some level, I am confused by The B-52s have withstood the test of time as well as they have. There’s a lot of this record that feels novelty and doesn’t speak to any noticeable trend. With that said, uniqueness goes a long way towards success. If nobody makes another “Rock Lobster,” then the soundtracks could just reuse it. With that said, some of these songs are so confusing by nature that I don’t know that mainstream audiences would love it. Then again, that’s why I’m not a tastemaker. This album is fun and I’ll probably return to it after hitting publish on this article. I’ll listen to “Wild Planet” and continue into the B-52s world. Maybe that’s why people love it. It taps into the kitsch and absurdism that provides a nice alternative to the confusing world.

As mentioned, The B-52s haven’t really gone anywhere. Even if they stopped touring after 2023, they aren’t technically broken up. The only thing that temporarily stopped them was the passing of Ricky Wilson in 1985. His death by AIDS caught everyone by surprise, including his sister who claimed that he kept the diagnosis secret from her. Given that most of the band members identified with some part of the LGBT community, they became highly supportive of AIDS-related research. Ricky’s work would be featured on work up through their fourth album “Bouncing Off the Satellites.” They would also have albums produced by Talking Heads’ David Byrne. 

With over 20 million albums sold it’s safe to say that their later career was a victory lap. They would continue to produce hit songs after 1978, including most notably “Love Shack” in 1989. While they haven’t released an album since “Funplex” in 2008, they continued to do work both as a band and solo work. “The B-52s” has now been considered one of the greatest new wave albums of its era and has influenced generations to embrace a stranger sound. For a band that could easily stumble into the novelty category, they’ve done very well for themselves. 

Overall, I am relieved that The B-52s have had longevity. It would be too easy to think that a band like this would’ve faded out quickly. There have been hundreds of artists who have released sillier songs than “Rock Lobster” and had that be their only claim to fame. Instead, they continued to evolve and surprise. I’m willing to bet that even if their weirdness was softened into something more palpable as they aged, I’m sure it still provided a sound that wasn’t being produced anywhere else. These songs still put a smile on my face and make me want to get up and dance. If that’s the only thing this band ever did, then I’d argue it’s a great thing to give the world.



Coming Up Next: Japan – “Tin Drum” (1981)

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