Introduction

“The Knack” burst onto the music scene in 1979 with their unforgettable hit song, “My Sharona”. This classic rock track is still beloved by music enthusiasts worldwide. Let’s dive into the story behind the song and the artists who brought it to life.How the Smash Hit 'My Sharona' Doomed the Knack

Did You Know?

1. The Knack’s Meteoric Rise: “My Sharona” catapulted The Knack to stardom. Released as the lead single from their debut album, “Get the Knack,” the song topped the Billboard Hot 100 chart for six consecutive weeks. It’s no surprise that this hit became an iconic rock anthem of its time.

2. The Inspiration: The song’s inspiration was derived from lead singer Doug Fieger’s infatuation with a woman named Sharona Alperin. Fieger’s captivating lyrics and energetic vocals perfectly captured the intensity of his feelings for her, resulting in a song that resonates with listeners of all ages.

3. Chart-Topping Success: “My Sharona” was not just a hit; it was an anthem that transcended generations. The single sold over a million copies in less than two months, making it one of the best-selling debut singles in the history of rock music.

4. Iconic Album Cover: The cover of “Get the Knack” featured a black-and-white photograph of a young woman posing seductively. This provocative image stirred controversy but undoubtedly contributed to the album’s success.

5. Lasting Influence: “My Sharona” continues to be a staple in popular culture, making appearances in films, TV shows, and commercials. Its lasting influence is a testament to the timelessness of this rock classic.
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Video 

Lyrics: My Sharona 

Hoo, my little pretty one, my pretty one
When you gonna give me some time, Sharona?
Hoo, you make my motor run, my motor run
Gun it comin’ off of the line, Sharona

Never gonna stop, give it up, such a dirty mind
I always get it up for the touch of the younger kind
My, my, my, aye-aye, woo!

M-m-m-my Sharona

Come a little closer, huh, a-will ya, huh?
Close enough to look in my eyes, Sharona
Keepin’ it a mystery, it gets to me
Runnin’ down the length of my thigh, Sharona

Never gonna stop, give it up, such a dirty mind
I always get it up for the touch of the younger kind
My, my, my, aye-aye, woo!

M-m-m-my Sharona
M-m-m-my Sharona (Yeah!)

When you gonna give to me, g-give to me
Is it just a matter of time, Sharona?
Is it d-d-destiny, d-destiny
Or is it just a game in my mind, Sharona?

Never gonna stop, give it up, such a dirty mind
I always get it up for the touch of the younger kind
My, my, my, aye-aye, woo!
M-m-m-m-m-m-m-my, my, my, aye-aye, woo!

M-m-m-my Sharona
M-m-m-my Sharona
M-m-m-my Sharona
M-m-m-my Sharona

Hoooooo-ohhh, my Sharona
Hoooooo-ohhh, my Sharona
Hoooooo-ohhh, my Sharona

You Missed

THE SONGS AREN’T HIS ANYMORE—THEY BELONG TO THE 60,000 PEOPLE WHO REFUSE TO LET THE MUSIC STOP. There is a powerful, heavy silence that sits at the center of every Randy Travis concert, but it is never empty. Since the 2013 stroke that claimed his ability to sing and nearly took his life, the performance has evolved into something far more intimate than a standard tour. It has become a conversation between a legend who can no longer speak his truths and a world that refuses to forget them. For two years and 54 cities, Randy Travis has walked onto stages not to perform, but to be witnessed. With his wife, Mary, beside him and his original band anchoring the sound, the shows feature James Dupré taking on the vocal heavy lifting—but the real singer in the room is the crowd. Every night, thousands of voices bridge the gap left by aphasia. They handle the verses of “Three Wooden Crosses” and “On the Other Hand,” turning arenas into something resembling a massive, tear-filled revival. When Randy mouths the lyrics alongside them, he isn’t just watching a show—he is reclaiming his own catalog through the lungs of the people who grew up listening to it. The climax of the night is always the same: the final song. As the music fades and the band holds steady, Randy Travis takes the microphone. The man who was silenced by a stroke delivers the only word he needs to bridge the distance between his past and his present. He says, “Amen.” People often wonder why he continues to tour, why he chooses the grueling pace of the road when he could rest in the quiet of his home. But when you see the room “come apart” in that final moment, the answer is clear: this isn’t a farewell tour. It’s a reciprocal healing. The fans show up to give him back the songs he gave them, and he shows up to remind them—and himself—that while the voice may have changed, the spirit remains exactly where it always was. He is calling the tour More Life, and he has earned every syllable of that title. He is living proof that a legacy isn’t built on the perfection of a vocal performance, but on the connection that survives long after the ability to sing has faded.