written by Dennis DeYoung

produced by Styx

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This page is a doozy. The lyrics alone, just... whew.

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For anyone who may have been wondering when I might get to the

mighty mythology-fueled Styx... you’re in luck. Tough choice either

way, but as far as choosing the quintessential and defining Styx rock song... we probably would have to go with “Mr. Roboto.” Well... then again, “Blue Collar Man” and “Come Sail Away” from the ’70s are pretty strong picks themselves... I did say it was a difficult choice. Like whittling down the ultimate Styx ballad. Many would automatically say “Babe,” and I wouldn’t disagree... except perhaps in the case of “The Best Of Times.” Especially if we’re talking pure ballad. Now, if we want to go with power ballad, I would have to answer, hands-down, with a more recent selection, “Show Me The Way.” That one might just be my #1 Stygian fave.

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Though also especially as far as “Roboto” and “Come Sail” are concerned, it is quite hard to settle on a concrete favorite. I love Styx... then again, I don’t know many who do not. I got a hold of their 1995 greatest hits package around the year ’99... and while unrelated for me at the time, 1999 was also the year of Adam Sandler’s movie Big Daddy, which breathed new life into Styx and introduced them to a whole new generation of listeners—especially as most Sandler fans back then were teens. (Although, also, I just mentioned their greatest hits came out in ’95 (with a new version of their old classic “Lady”), and that was the year of Billy Madison, which happened to feature “Renegade.”) Sadly, 1999 also happened to be the year Dennis DeYoung was dismissed from the band and replaced.

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Styx formed in the early ’70s in Chicago. The band name Chicago was already taken, but that was all right; everyone liked the inspiration in the Greek mythological hell-gating river. For the first couple of decades, their leader was the versatile Dennis DeYoung, finessed in both composing and vocals. His voice alone covered a span of a few octaves. Though statistically, he wrote the most Styx songs, the repertoire writing duties were shared amongst all the members. Their first couple albums were put out courtesy of Wooden Nickel Records, an indie label specializing in Chicago-based acts. In 1975 they stepped up their record company game, signed with A&M, and were off and running. Their respective ’75 and ’76 albums did modestly well. Then came 1977, and Styx’s peak years commenced.

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The ’77 record The Grand Illusion shot Styx to initial stardom, despite yielding only two singles, neither of which was its mighty opening title track. It was also the year after the group added wild guitarist Tommy Shaw, who helped drive them as a force to be reckoned with, and gave the band a nice kick in the pants. Grand Illusion went triple platinum, as did its follow-up, 1978’s Pieces Of Eight. It rode on the pillars of “Blue Collar Man” and “Renegade,” while in 1979 Cornerstone flew on the wings of “Babe.”

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The first few years of the 1980s treated Styx even better, ’81’s Paradise Theatre being the first full Styx record to nail #1, with “The Best Of Times”—pun almost intended—and “Too Much Time On My Hands.” By the release of their eleventh album, they had the world at their feet. And yet, possibly the most recognizable Styx hit in existence was still just around the corner. In February 1983, Kilroy Was Here crashed to Earth—dōmo arigatō, boys—storming in with the technophobic “Mr. Roboto” (a Canadian #1). The majestic “Don’t Let It End” also charted healthily.

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A device known as a vocoder is at work in “Mr. Roboto,” synthesizing the iconic robot voice. Originally, “Don’t Let It End” was slated to be Kilroy’s leadoff single. Dennis did not wish to release “Roboto” as a single, until the camp convinced him otherwise. Some critics felt the song and the Kilroy album were the mark of indication that Styx had begun selling out, surrendering to gratuitous pop with cheap hooks. Don’t come to me with that drivel; I like gratuitous pop and cheap hooks. Direct from the song’s Wiki page, and from a music theory standpoint, this is the detail of the song I find most fascinating. (If you’ve never taken music theory courses, you might just want to skip straight down from here.)

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“The song is not in any one key and is instead in a related set of modes. The intro begins in A-flat Mixolydian mode, ending in an F (dominant to B-flat). The singing begins, the chords alternating between a second-inversion B-flat (4–3 suspension resolution) and G-flat Lydian mode. Out of the ‘Domo’ part, the song bursts into G-flat Lydian. It changes to E-flat minor Aeolian mode at ‘I am the modren man,’ and this is the dominant key for the remainder of the song. Some portions of the song transition to E-flat major (similar to a Picardy third) as a transition point (to the ‘secret, secret’ part as a pivot chord (see modulation) and to A-flat Mixolydian, a modal change from the G-flat Lydian that the same part took in the beginning of the song). It transitions back to the familiar G-flat Lydian and then E-flat minor as the singer introduces himself as Kilroy.”

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The break-dance—whose name I’m sure I don’t need to mention by this point—was invented by mimes around the 1920s, but became really popular in the ’60s and ’70s, especially thanks to Michael Jackson. And to think that for a short silly time in my life, I actually believed Styx invented it with this ditty.

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P.S. The word “modren” is not a typo, nor do I suspect Dennis is dyslexic. Though I’m unsure if anyone but him knows why he’s singing “modren” instead of “modern.”

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Have notes to add? Let me know!

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YT:

full version/music video

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Styx’s official website