This song burst through the radio in 1981 like an old friend coming to visit. I loved it from the first hearing. It’s pure power pop candy, jangly guitars, handclaps, and that chorus that just sticks with you. Ah ah ah, ah ah ah ah ah. That guitar hook at the beginning won me over without hearing a word.
Greg Kihn earned this spot in the sun. By the time this song hit, Kihn and his band had been grinding it out in the Bay Area scene for years, signed to Beserkley Records, the indie label that also gave us Jonathan Richman and The Rubinoos. They specialized in no-frills rock with clean riffs, catchy hooks, and no gimmicks.
The song is also 100 percent relatable. Who hasn’t been through a tough breakup? When I did, I would play The Temptations, but I would slip this one in as well. He was both talking about the end of a relationship and paying tribute to the golden era of pop songwriting. Kihn’s voice isn’t flashy at all, but it’s just what the song needs.
The Breakup song was released in 1981 and peaked at #15 on the Billboard 100 and #25 in Canada. He had his most successful release in 1983 with the album Kihnspiracy, which peaked at #15, and the smash single Jeopardy, which peaked at #2. His albums were a mix of original and cover songs. He covered Springsteen (Rendezvous and For You), Buddy Holly, Curtis Mayfield, and many more. Kihn was a good songwriter as well. Kihn had 7 songs in total in the top 100.
The song was from the album RocKihnRoll. The album peaked at #32 on the Billboard Album Charts.
Greg Kihn: Oh, yeah. There are times in your life that the way is clear. I remember coming home from a gig with the guys. We were in a van, and we pulled up to where I used to live. All of my stuff was piled up on the lawn, and it was raining.
I thought, “Oh, God. My first wife had done it.” We pulled up to the house, and I remember Steve, the bass player, looked at me and just went, “Well, you might as well just keep on going. You’re not going in there.”
There was a Japanese restaurant. I went up there with Stevie, and we were pounding down hot sake. I didn’t know where else to go. It was a cold, rainy night, and we were getting toasted. There was an old Japanese dude there at the sake bar, and he kept saying, “They don’t write ‘em like that anymore.” I thought, Yeah, damn. They don’t, do they? So we got the idea, we wrote that song probably in 15 minutes. All of the great songs are written quickly, by the way.
You have to take a lesson that the stuff that’s real, it’s in you and it’s got to come out like that song. I’d really broken up that very day. It wasn’t like I was trying to feel like what’s a guy like when he’s broken up. I was living it. When things are real, they’re always better than when they’re fiction, if you can dig what I’m saying.
The Breakup Song
We had broken up for good just an hour before
Ah ah ah, ah ah ah ah ah
And now I’m staring at the bodies as they’re dancing ‘cross the floor
Ah ah ah, ah ah ah ah ah
And then the band slowed the tempo and the music took me down
Ah ah ah, ah ah ah ah ah
It was the same old song, with a melancholy sound
Ah ah ah, ah ah ah ah ah
They don’t write ’em like that anymore
They just don’t write ’em like that anymore
We’d been living together for a million years
Ah ah ah, ah ah ah ah ah
But now it feels so strange out in the atmosphere
Ah ah ah, ah ah ah ah ah
And then the jukebox plays a song I used to know
Ah ah ah, ah ah ah ah ah
And now I’m staring at the bodies as they’re dancing so slow
Ah ah ah, ah ah ah ah ah
They don’t write ’em like that anymore
They don’t write ’em like that anymore
Oh
Hey
Now I wind up staring at an empty glass
Ah ah ah, ah ah ah ah ah
‘Cause it’s so easy to say that you’ll forget your past
Ah ah ah, ah ah ah ah ah
They don’t write ’em like that anymore, no
They just don’t write ’em like that anymore
They don’t write ’em like that anymore
They just don’t write ’em like that anymore
They just don’t, no, they don’t
No, no, uh-uh
