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The Hollies – Long Cool Woman In A Black Dress

Eric Haydock death: The Hollies bassist and founder member dies aged 75 | The Independent | The Independent

About the Song

“Long Cool Woman in a Black Dress” is a song by the English rock band The Hollies, released in 1972 as the lead single from their album Distant Light. It is a mid-tempo ballad with a catchy melody and a romantic theme. The song was a commercial success, reaching number 2 on the UK Singles Chart and number 8 on the US Billboard Hot 100.

The song is about a man who is captivated by a beautiful woman he sees in a black dress. He is immediately drawn to her and is unable to take his eyes off of her. The song is full of imagery and emotion, and it captures the feeling of being infatuated with someone.

The song was written by Tony Hicks and Bernie Calvert, and it was produced by Mick Mickwood. The Hollies recorded the song at Abbey Road Studios in London. The song features Allan Clarke on lead vocals, Eric Haydock and Graham Nash on backing vocals, Tony Hicks on lead guitar, Bernie Calvert on bass guitar, and Bobby Elliott on drums.

“Long Cool Woman in a Black Dress” is one of the most popular songs by The Hollies, and it is still played on radio stations today. It is a classic rock song that has been covered by many other artists, including Cher, Rod Stewart, and Elvis Presley.

BBC Radio 2 - Sounds of the 60s with Tony Blackburn - The Hollies And Their Hit Songwriters

Now, let’s take a journey back in time and explore the song itself. You can watch the official video on YouTube and enjoy the lyrics below.

Video 

Lyrics: Long Cool Woman In A Black Dress

Saturday night I was downtown
Working for the FBI
Sittin’ in a nest of bad men
Whiskey bottles piling highBootlegging boozer on the west side
Full of people who are doing wrong
Just about to call up the DA man
When I heard this woman sing a songA pair of 45’s made me open my eyes
My temperature started to rise
She was a long cool woman in a black dress
Just-a 5’9, beautiful, tall
With just one look I was a bad mess
‘Cause that long cool woman had it all[Instrumental Interlude]I saw her heading to the table
Like a tall walking big black cat
When Charlie said I hope that you’re able boy
‘Cause I’m telling you she knows where it’s at
Then suddenly we heard the sirens
And everybody started to run
A-jumping out of doors and tables
When I heard somebody shootin’ a gun
Well the DA was pumping my left handAnd a-she was a-holding my right
Well I told her don’t get scared
‘Cause you’re gonna be spared
I’ve gotta be forgivin’ if I wanna spend my living
With a long cool woman in a black dress
Just a 5’9 beautiful tall
Yeah, with just one look I was a bad mess
‘Cause that long cool woman had it all
Had it all
Had it all

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What if the true miracle of Elvis Presley was never his dazzling face, his electric swagger, or the crown that history pressed upon his head? What if his greatest gift was something entirely unseen, living solely in the sound of his breath against a microphone? He possessed a voice of astonishing alchemy—capable of whipping an arena into a frenzy of wild, delirious joy one moment, only to strip a room down to absolute, breathless silence with a single, heartbreaking note. It was an instrument that carried the full spectrum of human endurance: the raw ache of loneliness, the quiet devotion of faith, the fever of first love, and the heavy sorrow of a broken heart, all articulated in ways mere language could never touch. Nearly half a century after his voice fell silent, millions still turn to his records and feel a strange, profound stirring they can’t quite name. Because when Elvis sang, he wasn’t just entertaining a crowd. He possessed the rare, uncanny magic of a soul looking straight into yours—making you feel, with every syllable, that he understood the deepest, quietest corners of your heart.

What cosmic alchemy creates a face so striking that, nearly half a century after he drew his last breath, strangers can still look at an old portrait and feel their hearts instantly surrender? Elvis Presley possessed a rare, breathtaking symmetry that defied mere description—anchored by those unforgettable blue eyes, faultless bone structure, and a smile that could disarm a room in a heartbeat. He held a paradoxical grace, effortlessly projecting both commanding power and profound vulnerability all at once. Yet his true magnetism lay far beyond the physical. Beneath the legendary looks lived an aching, radiant warmth—a quiet tenderness shadowing his confidence, and a subtle, lingering melancholy that often lingered in his eyes even when his lips were smiling. He looked like a dream the world had conjured, yet his deep, unmistakably human fragility made you feel as though he wasn’t just an icon to be admired from afar, but someone your soul already knew and deeply loved.

How does a man who laid down his microphone nearly half a century ago continue to claim the hearts of generations born decades after his final curtain? Elvis Presley drew his last breath on August 16, 1977, at only forty-two, yet his story refused to end with a gravestone in the Meditation Garden. Instead, something miraculous happened in his absence: the myth deepened, the music found new sanctuaries, and millions of souls who never lived a single day under his living sun learned to love him with a fierce, personal devotion. Every year, modern pilgrims still trace their way to the gates of Graceland, leaving flowers, letters, and tears on stone, while his voice continues to drift from bedroom turntables and digital screens into the ears of youth who weren’t even glimmers in their parents’ eyes when he passed. Yet perhaps the most poignant, quiet tragedy of all is that Elvis never knew. In his loneliest hours, wrestling with the crushing weight of fame and a life slipping through his fingers, he could never have imagined that long after he was gone, unborn generations would still be whispering his name, aching for a man they never touched, and keeping his brilliant, immortal spirit alive.

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