About the SongDr. Hook & The Medicine Show - The Cover of the Rolling Stone: listen with lyrics | Deezer

“Cover of the Rolling Stone” by Dr. Hook and the Medicine Show is a clever and satirical song that captures the dreams and aspirations of musicians seeking fame and recognition in the music industry. Released in 1972 as part of their album Sloppy Seconds, the track became a major hit, reaching the top of the Billboard Hot 100 chart and establishing Dr. Hook as a unique voice in the world of pop and rock music. Written by Shel Silverstein, a celebrated poet and songwriter, the song cleverly plays with themes of celebrity culture and the quest for stardom.

The lyrics of “Cover of the Rolling Stone” humorously depict the desire of a struggling band to make it big and be featured on the cover of Rolling Stone magazine, a symbol of success in the music world. The song opens with a catchy, upbeat rhythm that draws listeners in, while the verses highlight the lengths the band would go to achieve their dream, showcasing their playful attitude toward fame. Phrases like “I don’t care about the money, I just want to be on the cover of the Rolling Stone” encapsulate the essence of youthful ambition and the sometimes superficial nature of celebrity. The song resonates with anyone who has ever dreamed of recognition and success, making it both relatable and entertaining.

Musically, “Cover of the Rolling Stone” features Dr. Hook’s signature blend of pop and rock elements, characterized by catchy melodies, jangly guitars, and infectious harmonies. The arrangement combines a lively beat with whimsical instrumentation, creating a fun and engaging listening experience. The band’s distinctive vocal style, combined with Silverstein’s witty lyrics, adds a layer of charm and humor to the song. This lighthearted approach, coupled with a catchy chorus, makes it easy for listeners to sing along and enjoy the playful critique of fame.

In the context of Dr. Hook and the Medicine Show’s career, “Cover of the Rolling Stone” stands out as a defining moment that helped to propel the band into the spotlight. Known for their blend of humor and heartfelt songwriting, Dr. Hook gained popularity throughout the early 1970s with a string of successful hits. The song’s success not only showcased their musical talents but also solidified their place in pop culture, as they cleverly reflected on the nature of fame and the music industry.

Today, “Cover of the Rolling Stone” remains a beloved classic, frequently played on classic rock and oldies radio stations. Its themes of ambition, humor, and the pursuit of fame continue to resonate with audiences, making it a timeless anthem for aspiring musicians and dreamers alike. The song serves as a reminder of the allure of celebrity while playfully critiquing the industry’s obsession with image and recognition.

In summary, Dr. Hook and the Medicine Show’s “Cover of the Rolling Stone” is a witty and engaging exploration of the dreams and challenges faced by aspiring musicians. With its catchy melody, clever lyrics, and the band’s charismatic performance, the song stands as a quintessential representation of the early ’70s music scene. Its enduring appeal and cultural significance ensure that it will continue to entertain and resonate with listeners for years to come, solidifying its status as a classic in the annals of popular music.Picture background

Video

Lyrics: “Cover Of The Rolling Stone”

 

C’mon Bret
Don’t touch me. now
Tell’em!
I’m gonna tell’em who we areWe were big rock singers
We’ve got golden fingers
And we’re loved everywhere we go (that sounds like us)We sing about beauty
And we sing about truth
At ten million dollars a show (yeah sure)We take all kinds of pills
That give us all kinds of thrills
But the thrill we’ve never knownIs the thrill that’ll get you
When you get your picture on
The cover of the Rolling Stone

[Chorus]
(Rolling Stone) Gonna get our pictures on the cover
(Stone) Gonna buy five copies for our mothers
(Stone) Gonna see my smiling face on the
Cover of the Rolling Stone

That sounds like a very very good idea

I got a freaky old lady
Named Cocaine Katie
Who embroiders all my jeans
I got my poor old gray haired daddy
Driving my limousine

Now It’s all designed
To blow our mind
But our minds won’ really be blown

By the blow that’ll get you
When you get your picture on the
Cover of the Rolling Stone

[Chorus]

Hey I know how- Rock and Roll

We got a lot of
little teenage, blue eyes groupies
Who do anything we say

We got a genuine
Indian Guru
Who’s teaching us a better way

I got all the friends
That money can buy
So we never have to be alone

And we keep getting richer
But we can’t get our picture
on the cover of the Rolling Stone

 

You Missed

Patsy stood in a dress she felt was a costume, fighting the producer’s demand to sing a song she genuinely disliked. The studio lights at Arthur Godfrey’s Talent Scouts burned hot that January night in 1957. Patsy stood backstage with a heart set on performing a different ballad, holding a vision of her own career that didn’t include the uptempo swing of a song she found tedious. She wanted the emotional weight of a country tear-jerker; the producer wanted a hit. The pressure in that dressing room was palpable, a quiet collision between an artist’s stubborn intuition and the cold machinery of television producers who cared more about broadcast tempo than personal conviction. She walked out there wearing a cocktail dress instead of her usual cowgirl gear, an image she felt didn’t belong to her. As the cameras rolled, she surrendered to the arrangement. She sang those lyrics she didn’t care for, her voice cutting through the air with a clean, haunting authority that demanded the nation’s attention. By the time the final note hung in the rafters, she hadn’t just won a competition; she had fundamentally altered the trajectory of her life. The audience erupted, and Arthur Godfrey broke protocol to tell her she had secured the victory before the commercial break even arrived. Success is often a fickle companion that arrives wearing the face of a stranger. That song, the one she fought against until the very last second, cemented her name on the charts and defined the sound of her breakthrough. She stood under those bright lights, the applause washing over a woman who had finally and accidentally found the exact sound the world was waiting for.

To save his career, a Tennessee farm boy had to learn how to walk, sing, and breathe inside the glass walls of an urban professional studio. By the late 1950s, the steel guitars and cowboy boots that propelled Eddy Arnold to the top of the charts were gathering dust. The radio airwaves had shifted beneath his feet, and the hits that once felt effortless were drying up entirely. Arnold stood at a crossroads, staring down the very real possibility of packing his bags and leaving the music business for good. He was a man out of time, clinging to an image that the new American consumer no longer wanted to buy. Instead of bowing out, he began a slow, deliberate demolition of the persona that had made him a star. The rustic, down-home threads were traded for the sharp, muted formality of a tuxedo. The steel guitars were replaced by sweeping orchestral arrangements and velvet-smooth vocal deliveries designed for supper clubs rather than honky-tonks. He was not just updating his sound; he was performing an act of total reinvention, moving from the farmhouse to the high-rise with startling, cold calculation. When he recorded Make the World Go Away in 1965, the gamble achieved something profound. The song bypassed the traditional country boundaries, finding a home on the pop charts and turning his perceived failure into a second, far more lucrative life. He never went back to the plow. He sat under the studio lights, a man who had successfully traded his heritage for a tuxedo and a permanent place in the modern spotlight.