Show Notes
In the late 1980s, the English synth-pop duo Pet Shop Boys dominated the U.K. pop charts and staged an invasion of the American charts. Years later, founding member Neil Tennant dubbed this streak of creative and commercial supremacy the group’s “imperial phase”—a term that eventually caught on among music critics and pop fans.
So, what does it take for an artist to achieve imperial dominance? Why might Fleetwood Mac in the 1970s or The Weeknd in the 2010s qualify, while Cher or Lizzo don’t quite fit the bill? Are there rules for imperial phases?
Hit Parade’s Chris Molanphy says yes—he’s got chart rules for determining when an artist is at peak imperiality. And he says Madonna’s late ’80s streak of hits might be the ultimate imperial phase.
Join Chris as he dissects the most regal artists across the decades, defining what makes them imperial—and he walks hit by hit through Madonna’s biggest phase, which may remain unmatched.
Podcast production by Kevin Bendis.
Need to set up your Slate Plus feed? If you subscribed through Slate.com, check out our FAQ at slate.com/podcastfaqs for easy instructions. Members subscribed via Apple Podcasts get automatic access—no setup required. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.
More from Hit Parade | Music History and Music Trivia
The 1980s yielded a bumper crop of near-miss hits—songs that stalled out at No. 2, No. 11, or No. 41 during their original Billboard runs but were vindicated in the streaming era. The song that lent its title to a Molly Ringwald movie missed the Top 40—twice. Stevie Nicks missed the Top 10 with what is now her most beloved solo song. And Bruce Springsteen missed his only chance at a No. 1 song thanks to another ’80s icon.
In the 1970s, Dolly Parton parlayed her Nashville success into megawatt pop-culture icon status—yet many of her familiar hits of the era barely scratched the Top 40. Parton finally crossed over at the turn of the ’80s by courting pop fans directly. Nearly five decades later, country music is ubiquitous on the pop charts, with Ella Langley’s “Choosin’ Texas” recently setting a record for most weeks at No. 1. On this installment of Hit Parade, Chris Molanphy examines the chart rules that limited Parton’s pop-chart potential, the trail she blazed for Langley and other country women, and why the Nashville sound is much more than just an island in the (digital) stream.
When an actor opens their mouth to sing in a movie, chances are high that the voice you hear will be their own. Even in music biopics, movie stars without much singing experience regularly go to great lengths to impersonate the most beloved vocalists of our time. Why not simply play Johnny Cash or Bruce Springsteen’s actual recordings, the reasons why we care about them in the first place? When the world is full of beautiful singing voices, why force Pierce Brosnan to bray his way through Mamma Mia?
In the 1960s, the Beatles were defined by the success of the Lennon-McCartney songwriting partnership. But in the digital era, we discovered that the Fab Four’s most popular song wasn’t written by John or Paul. In fact, it had never been a chart hit—it wasn’t even released as a single.
Céline Dion is set to emerge from her career dormancy into a sold-out Paris residency—a triumph over a rare neurological illness that, until recently, prevented her from singing. Her silence seemed unimaginable. Only a few decades ago, a precocious Dion evolved from a big-lunged teen Francophone chanteuse to the chest-beating frontwoman of a string of smash English-language hits—including several titanic movie themes. The sheer physicality of her athletic voice captivated audiences in the ’90s, and filled your mom’s car.