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Immersing Yourself in the Energetic Vibes of “Shout” by The Isley Brothers

Introduction

“Shout,” the electrifying anthem by The Isley Brothers, is a timeless masterpiece that continues to ignite dance floors worldwide. Originally released in 1959, this dynamic song encapsulates the essence of rock and roll with its infectious rhythms and soulful vocals. Join us as we delve into the captivating story behind The Isley Brothers’ iconic hit and its lasting impact on music history.

Did You Know?

Fascinating Insights into “Shout” and The Isley Brothers

  • Origins of the Song: “Shout” was initially recorded by The Isley Brothers in 1959 as a gospel-inspired track before they reimagined it into the energetic rock and roll anthem it is known as today.
  • Chart-Topping Success: Upon its release, “Shout” soared to the top of the charts, solidifying The Isley Brothers’ status as pioneers of the rock and roll genre.
  • Cultural Influence: With its infectious energy and call-and-response format, “Shout” became an instant party favorite, inspiring generations of music lovers to dance and sing along.
  • Legacy of The Isley Brothers: Renowned for their innovative sound and electrifying performances, The Isley Brothers have left an indelible mark on music history, with “Shout” standing as a testament to their enduring talent.

Video

Lyrics: Shout 

Well
You know you make me wanna (Shout)
Kick my heels up and (Shout)
Throw my hands up and (Shout)
Throw my head back and (Shout)
Come on now (Shout)

Don’t forget to say you will
Don’t forget to say yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
(Say you will)
Say it right now, baby
(Say you will)
Come on, come on
(Say you will)
Say that you
(Say you will)
Come on now

(Say) Say that you love me
(Say) Say that you need me
(Say) Say that you want me
(Say) You wanna please me
(Say) Come on now
(Say) Come on now
(Say) Come on now

(Say) I still remember
(Shooby-doo-wop-do-wop-wop-wop-wop)
When you used to be 9 years old
(Shooby-doo-wop-do-wop-wop-wop-wop)
Yeah, yeah
I was a fool for you, from the bottom of my soul, yeah
(Shooby-doo-wop-do-wop-wop-wop-wop)

Now that you’ve grown up
(Shooby-doo-wop-do-wop-wop-wop-wop)
Grown enough to know, yeah, yeah
(Shooby-doo-wop-do-wop-wop-wop-wop)
You wanna leave me, you wanna let me go
(Shooby-doo-wop-do-wop)

I want you to know
I said, I want you to know right now, yeah
You been good to me baby
Better than I been to myself, hey, hey
And if you ever leave me
I don’t want nobody else, hey, hey
I said I want you to know, hey
I said I want you to know right now, hey, hey

You know you make me wanna
(Shout, whoo) Hey, yeah
(Shout, whoo) Yeah, yeah, yeah
(Shout, whoo) All right
(Shout, whoo) All right
(Shout, whoo) Come on now
(Shout) Come on now
(Shout) Yeah, yeah, yeah
(Shout) Yeah, yeah, yeah (Good sound)
(Shout) Yeah, yeah, yeah (Good sound)
(Shout) Yeah, yeah, yeah (Good sound)
(Shout) All right (Good sound)
(Shout) All right (Good sound)
(Shout) All right (Good sound)
(Shout) All right

Now wait a minute
I feel all right (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
(Ooh)
Now that I got my woman
I feel all right (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Every time I think about you
You been so good to me
You know you make me wanna
(Shout, whoo) Lift my heels up and
(Shout, whoo) Throw my head back and
(Shout, whoo) Kick my heels up and
(Shout, whoo) Come on now
(Shout, whoo) Take it easy
(Shout, whoo) Take it easy
(Shout, whoo) Take it easy (Higher)

(Shout) A little bit softer now (Whoo)
(Shout) A little bit softer now
(Shout) A little bit softer now
(Shout) A little bit softer now
(Shout) A little bit softer now
(Shout) A little bit softer now
(Shout) A little bit softer now
(Shout) A little bit softer now
(Shout) A little bit softer now
(Shout) A little bit softer now
(Shout) A little bit softer now
(Shout) A little bit softer now
(Shout) A little bit softer now
(Shout) A little bit softer now
(Shout) A little bit softer now
(Shout) A little bit softer now
(Shout) A little bit softer now

(Shout) A little bit louder now
(Shout) A little bit louder now
(Shout) A little bit louder now (Ooh)
(Shout) A little bit louder now
(Shout) A little bit louder now
(Shout) A little bit louder now
(Shout) A little bit louder now (Whoo)
(Shout) A little bit louder now (Whoo)
(Shout) A little bit louder now (Whoo)
(Shout) A little bit louder now (Whoo)
(Shout) A little bit louder now (Whoo)
(Shout) A little bit louder now
(Shout)

Hey, hey, hey, hey
(Hey, hey, hey, hey)
Hey, hey, hey, hey
(Hey, hey, hey, hey)
Hey, hey, hey, hey
(Hey, hey, hey, hey)
Hey, hey, hey, hey
(Hey, hey, hey, hey)

Jump now
Jump up and shout now (Whoo)
Jump up and shout now (Whoo)
Jump up and shout now (Whoo)
Jump up and shout now (Whoo)
Jump up and shout now (Whoo)
Everybody shout now
Everybody shout now
Everybody, shout, shout
Shout, shout, shout
Shout, shout, shout
Shout, shout, shout
Shout, shout, shout, shout (Oh, whoa, yeah)
Shout, shout, shout, shout (Oh, yeah)
Shout, shout, shout, shout
Everybody shout now (Ooh)
Jump up and shout now
Shout, shout, shout, shout
Shout, shout, shout, shout
Shout, shout, shout, shout
Shout, shout, shout, shout
Shout, shout, shout, shout
Shout, shout, shout, shout
(Shout)

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SHE WAS A BRIDE AT FIFTEEN, A MOTHER AT SIXTEEN, AND THE FIRST WOMAN NASHVILLE EVER HAD TO CALL “ENTERTAINER OF THE YEAR” — THEN SHE NAMED HER BABY AFTER THE BEST FRIEND SHE’D JUST BURIED, AND THAT BABY SPENT A LIFETIME MAKING SURE NEITHER VOICE WAS FORGOTTEN. Loretta Lynn came out of Butcher Hollow, Kentucky, with nothing but a coal miner’s last name and a voice that could pin a grown man to his chair. Married before she could drive. Four children by twenty-two. Then she wrote songs that scared Nashville half to death — about cheating husbands, birth control pills, and women who’d had enough. Sixteen number-ones. Presidential Medal of Freedom. The whole world calling her the Coal Miner’s Daughter. In 1963, her best friend Patsy Cline died in a plane crash. The next year, Loretta gave birth to twins. She named one of them Patsy. That little girl grew up backstage, between tour buses and honky-tonks. She formed The Lynns with her twin sister Peggy. Earned CMA nominations. Then she did something quieter and heavier — she stepped behind the glass and co-produced her mother’s final albums alongside Johnny Cash’s son. Loretta died October 4, 2022. That first birthday without her, Patsy woke up reaching for a phone call that wasn’t coming — her mama singing “Happy Birthday,” the way she always had. Does knowing Loretta named her daughter after a ghost she never stopped grieving make “I Fall to Pieces” feel like it belongs to both of them now?

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SHE WAS A BRIDE AT FIFTEEN, A MOTHER AT SIXTEEN, AND THE FIRST WOMAN NASHVILLE EVER HAD TO CALL “ENTERTAINER OF THE YEAR” — THEN SHE NAMED HER BABY AFTER THE BEST FRIEND SHE’D JUST BURIED, AND THAT BABY SPENT A LIFETIME MAKING SURE NEITHER VOICE WAS FORGOTTEN. Loretta Lynn came out of Butcher Hollow, Kentucky, with nothing but a coal miner’s last name and a voice that could pin a grown man to his chair. Married before she could drive. Four children by twenty-two. Then she wrote songs that scared Nashville half to death — about cheating husbands, birth control pills, and women who’d had enough. Sixteen number-ones. Presidential Medal of Freedom. The whole world calling her the Coal Miner’s Daughter. In 1963, her best friend Patsy Cline died in a plane crash. The next year, Loretta gave birth to twins. She named one of them Patsy. That little girl grew up backstage, between tour buses and honky-tonks. She formed The Lynns with her twin sister Peggy. Earned CMA nominations. Then she did something quieter and heavier — she stepped behind the glass and co-produced her mother’s final albums alongside Johnny Cash’s son. Loretta died October 4, 2022. That first birthday without her, Patsy woke up reaching for a phone call that wasn’t coming — her mama singing “Happy Birthday,” the way she always had. Does knowing Loretta named her daughter after a ghost she never stopped grieving make “I Fall to Pieces” feel like it belongs to both of them now?

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“YOU MAKE THE COFFEE, I’LL MAKE THE BED.” — GLEN CAMPBELL DIDN’T NEED A LOVE POEM. HE JUST NEEDED AN OKLAHOMA MORNING. In December 1971, Glen Campbell released “Oklahoma Sunday Morning.” It peaked at #15 on the country charts—not his biggest hit by a long shot. But something about this track stuck. It wasn’t about fame or tragedy; it was about coffee, making the bed, and packing a lunch. It was the kind of love that doesn’t make headlines. But the way Glen sang it, you realized he wasn’t just describing a routine. He was singing about the only place that truly felt like home. A kid from a sharecropper’s family of twelve in Delight, Arkansas—who went on to sell 45 million records—poured something deeply personal into this quiet track. Fifty years later, folks across Oklahoma still know every word. Some songs don’t need to reach #1. They just need to be true.