The Crests Discography | Discogs

About the Song

In the realm of doo-wop music, few songs have achieved the enduring popularity and cultural significance of “16 Candles” by The Crests. Released in 1958, this timeless ballad has captured the hearts of listeners for generations, becoming an iconic symbol of teenage romance and the bittersweet transition to adulthood.

The Crests, a vocal group from Brooklyn, New York, were pioneers of the doo-wop genre, characterized by its close harmonies, intricate vocal arrangements, and a cappella backing vocals. Their smooth, soulful sound resonated with audiences, and they quickly rose to prominence in the late 1950s.

“16 Candles” stands as their crowning achievement, a song that perfectly encapsulates the essence of doo-wop. The song’s opening notes, a gentle guitar riff and a soft drumbeat, set the stage for a tale of youthful love and longing. Lead singer Johnny Mastrangelo delivers the heartfelt lyrics with a tender, emotive voice, conveying the protagonist’s adoration for his special someone as they celebrate their 16th birthday.

The song’s chorus, a soaring declaration of love, is particularly memorable. “Sixteen candles, she’s growing up so fast,” Mastrangelo sings, his voice filled with both joy and a hint of sadness as he acknowledges the passage of time and the inevitable changes that come with it.

“16 Candles” is more than just a catchy tune; it’s a poignant reflection on the fleeting nature of youth and the bittersweet beauty of growing up. The song’s themes of love, loss, and nostalgia continue to resonate with listeners today, making it a timeless classic that has stood the test of time.

The Crests’ legacy is firmly cemented with “16 Candles”, a song that has earned its place among the greatest doo-wop anthems ever recorded. Its enduring popularity and cultural impact prove that true musical gems never fade away, continuing to touch hearts and inspire generations to come.The Crests

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Lyrics: 16 Candles

Happy birthday, happy birthday, baby
Oh, I love you so

Sixteen candles make a lovely light
But not as bright as your eyes tonight (as your eyes tonight) (Oh)
Blow out the candles, make your wish come true
For I’ll be wishing that you love me, too (that you love me, too)

You’re only sixteen (sixteen)
But you’re my teenage queen (you’re my queen)
You’re the prettiest, loveliest girl I’ve ever seen (I’ve ever seen) (OH)

Sixteen candles in my heart will glow
For ever and ever for I love you so (for I love you so)

You’re only sixteen (sixteen)
But you’re my teenage queen (you’re my queen)
Oh, you’re the prettiest, loveliest girl I’ve ever seen (I’ve ever seen) (OH)

Sixteen candles in my heart will glow
For ever and ever for I love you so (for I love you so)
For I love you so

You Missed

“He Died the Way He Lived — On His Own Terms.” That phrase haunted the night air when news broke: on April 6, 2016, Merle Haggard left this world in a final act worthy of a ballad. Some say he whispered to his family, “Today’s the day,” and he wasn’t wrong — he passed away on his 79th birthday, at home in Palo Cedro, California, after a long battle with pneumonia. Born in a converted boxcar in Oildale, raised in dust storms and hardship, Merle’s life read like a country novel: father gone when he was nine, teenage years tangled with run-ins with the law, and eventual confinement in San Quentin after a botched burglary. It was in that prison that he heard Johnny Cash perform — and something inside him snapped into motion: a vow not to die as a mistake, but to rise as a voice for the voiceless. By the time he walked free in 1960, the man who once roamed barrooms and cellblocks had begun weaving songs from scars: “Mama Tried,” “Branded Man,” “Okie from Muskogee” — each line steeped in the grit of a life lived hard and honest. His music didn’t just entertain — it became country’s raw pulse, a beacon for those who felt unheralded, unseen. Friends remembered him as grizzly and tender in the same breath. Willie Nelson once said, “He was my brother, my friend. I will miss him.” Tanya Tucker recalled sharing bologna sandwiches by the river — simple moments, but when God called him home, those snapshots shook the soul: how do you say goodbye to someone whose voice felt like memory itself? And so here lies the mystery: he died on his birthday. Was it fate, prophecy, or a gesture too perfect to dismiss? His son Ben once disclosed that a week earlier, Merle had told them he would go that day — as though he charted his own final chord. This is where the story begins, not ends. Because legends don’t vanish — they echo. And every time someone hums “Sing Me Back Home,” Merle Haggard lives again.