Today, the Pointer Sisters are mostly remembered for their flurry of ’80s hits, especially the “Excited” one about losing control and liking it. But their musical history is far more varied: jazz standards? Civil rights–era funk? Country music? Yacht rock? The Pointers applied their impeccable sibling harmonies to all of it.

Billboard ranks the Pointer Sisters behind only the Supremes, TLC and Destiny’s Child among hitmaking girl groups. Yet their versatility has gone relatively unheralded—from the Grammy they won in a country category, to the Bruce Springsteen demo they turned into a smash, to the kiddie bop they recorded for Sesame Street.

How did the Pointers score so many hits in so many idioms? Join Chris Molanphy as he gives the Pointer Sisters their due as harmonizing innovators and genre-defying hitmakers. Here at Hit Parade, we jump (for their love).

Podcast production by Kevin Bendis.

This Pride Month, make an impact by helping Macy’s and The Trevor Project on their mission to fund life-saving suicide prevention services for LGBTQ youth. Go to macys.com/purpose to learn more.

Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In the ’90s, U.K. rock was by Britons, for Britons. The music of the U.K. indie, Madchester and shoegaze scenes fused together into a new wave of guitar bands with punk energy, laddish lyrics and danceable grooves. They called it Britpop.

In the motherland, Britpop set the charts alight: Blur faced off against Oasis. Pulp poked fun at the class system. Suede sold androgyny, and Elastica repackaged ’70s art-punk as ’90s pop. But with rare exception, these hits didn’t translate in America. There was no Third British Invasion in the ’90s—with the exception of that one inscrutable Oasis song about a “Wonderwall.”

Why did Britpop fire up Old Blighty and flop with the Yanks? Join Chris Molanphy as he tries to define Britppop—was it a scene? a sound? a movement?—and explains how the music boomed and busted faster than a cannonball.

Podcast production by Kevin Bendis.

Make an impact this Asian American & Pacific Islander Heritage Month by helping Macy’s on their mission to fund APIA Scholars. Go to macys.com/purpose to learn more.

Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In the ’90s, U.K. rock was by Britons, for Britons. The music of the U.K. indie, Madchester and shoegaze scenes fused together into a new wave of guitar bands with punk energy, laddish lyrics and danceable grooves. They called it Britpop.

In the motherland, Britpop set the charts alight: Blur faced off against Oasis. Pulp poked fun at the class system. Suede sold androgyny, and Elastica repackaged ’70s art-punk as ’90s pop. But with rare exception, these hits didn’t translate in America. There was no Third British Invasion in the ’90s—with the exception of that one inscrutable Oasis song about a “Wonderwall.”

Why did Britpop fire up Old Blighty and flop with the Yanks? Join Chris Molanphy as he tries to define Britppop—was it a scene? a sound? a movement?—and explains how the music boomed and busted faster than a cannonball.

Podcast production by Kevin Bendis.

Make an impact this Asian American & Pacific Islander Heritage Month by helping Macy’s on their mission to fund APIA Scholars. Go to macys.com/purpose to learn more.

Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Before 1964, British bands couldn’t get anywhere on the U.S. charts. Then suddenly, after a certain Fab Four broke, they were everywhere. By 1965, they had locked down our Top 10.

In 1981, a new generation of U.K. acts armed with synthesizers were largely shut out of the Hot 100 once again. But then a new video channel called MTV changed the game—helped by some very pretty men in dapper suits. By 1983, half of the U.S. Top 40 had a British accent.

What did these two movements have in common, besides screaming fans and impressive hair? Join Chris Molanphy as he dissects these two bloodless coups that rebooted our hit parade. These Invasions were about as easy as a nuclear war.

Podcast production by Kevin Bendis.

Make an impact this Earth Month by helping Macy’s on their mission to bring more parks to more people across the country. Go to macys.com/purpose to learn more.

Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Before 1964, British bands couldn’t get anywhere on the U.S. charts. Then suddenly, after a certain Fab Four broke, they were everywhere. By 1965, they had locked down our Top 10.

In 1981, a new generation of U.K. acts armed with synthesizers were largely shut out of the Hot 100 once again. But then a new video channel called MTV changed the game—helped by some very pretty men in dapper suits. By 1983, half of the U.S. Top 40 had a British accent.

What did these two movements have in common, besides screaming fans and impressive hair? Join Chris Molanphy as he dissects these two bloodless coups that rebooted our hit parade. These Invasions were about as easy as a nuclear war.

Podcast production by Kevin Bendis.

Make an impact this Earth Month by helping Macy’s on their mission to bring more parks to more people across the country. Go to macys.com/purpose to learn more.

Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Alecia Moore was so fearless, they put an exclamation point in her name. Pink—a.k.a. P!nk—was full of bravado from the moment she broke at the turn of the millennium, singing a frothy style of teen pop&B. She was promoted as ethnically ambiguous and sold to white and Black audiences as a sassy Total Request Live starlet. She even joined an all-star remake of “Lady Marmalade.”

But Pink felt misrepresented, even Missundaztood—so she recorded an album by that name, fusing rock guitar, dance beats and filter-free lyrics. She called out shiftless boyfriends, other pop stars, even the president of her record label in the lyrics of her hits, becoming the pop fan’s rock star.

Join Chris Molanphy as he explains how Pink defined her own genre fusing punk attitude and soaring melodies into 21st-century self-empowerment music. She made herself into a rock star, simply by calling herself one. Who knew?

Podcast production by Kevin Bendis.

Make an impact this Women’s History Month by helping Macy’s on their mission to fund girls in STEM. Go to macys.com/purpose to learn more.

Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Alecia Moore was so fearless, they put an exclamation point in her name. Pink—a.k.a. P!nk—was full of bravado from the moment she broke at the turn of the millennium, singing a frothy style of teen pop&B. She was promoted as ethnically ambiguous and sold to white and Black audiences as a sassy Total Request Live starlet. She even joined an all-star remake of “Lady Marmalade.”

But Pink felt misrepresented, even Missundaztood—so she recorded an album by that name, fusing rock guitar, dance beats and filter-free lyrics. She called out shiftless boyfriends, other pop stars, even the president of her record label in the lyrics of her hits, becoming the pop fan’s rock star.

Join Chris Molanphy as he explains how Pink defined her own genre fusing punk attitude and soaring melodies into 21st-century self-empowerment music. She made herself into a rock star, simply by calling herself one. Who knew?

Podcast production by Kevin Bendis.

Make an impact this Women’s History Month by helping Macy’s on their mission to fund girls in STEM. Go to macys.com/purpose to learn more.

Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

One of the most improbable blockbuster successes of the ’90s was Hootie and the Blowfish: a South Carolina bar band fronted by a Black lead singer that played jangly alt-pop. That singer, Darius Rucker, built a career that’s one of a kind. Rucker’s tastes growing up were eclectic, as were the influences on his young bandmates. Their Cracked Rear View album took a year to catch on, but then it dominated the charts.

The story gets more interesting after Hootie fell off: Darius Rucker’s career is a prime example of how chart success is a product of musical trend. First, Rucker tried to become a neo-soul star. Then he tried his hand at country music, even though Nashville had not produced a major Black solo star since Charley Pride.

Join Chris Molanphy as he traces this improbable journey—the role Rucker’s band played in mainstreaming alt-rock, Rucker’s effort to find a genre to call home, and how he finally became a chart-conqueror again..

Podcast production by Kevin Bendis.

Make an impact this Black History Month by helping Macy’s on their mission to fund UNCF scholarships for HBCU students. Go to macys.com/purpose to learn more.

Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

One of the most improbable blockbuster successes of the ’90s was Hootie and the Blowfish: a South Carolina bar band fronted by a Black lead singer that played jangly alt-pop. That singer, Darius Rucker, built a career that’s one of a kind. Rucker’s tastes growing up were eclectic, as were the influences on his young bandmates. Their Cracked Rear View album took a year to catch on, but then it dominated the charts.

The story gets more interesting after Hootie fell off: Darius Rucker’s career is a prime example of how chart success is a product of musical trend. First, Rucker tried to become a neo-soul star. Then he tried his hand at country music, even though Nashville had not produced a major Black solo star since Charley Pride.

Join Chris Molanphy as he traces this improbable journey—the role Rucker’s band played in mainstreaming alt-rock, Rucker’s effort to find a genre to call home, and how he finally became a chart-conqueror again..

Podcast production by Kevin Bendis.

Make an impact this Black History Month by helping Macy’s on their mission to fund UNCF scholarships for HBCU students. Go to macys.com/purpose to learn more.

Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

The story of Fleetwood Mac is an oft-told rock n’ roll tale: British blues-rock band sells poorly until two Americans join, bringing California vibes and lots of drama. Everybody fights, cheats, drugs, and boozes. Out pops Rumours and tons of hits.

It’s more complicated than that. Those two Americans—Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham—got all the media coverage and wrote many great songs. But the quiet lady behind the keyboards, Christine McVie, actually wrote more of the hits: “Don’t Stop.” “Say You Love Me.” “Hold Me.” “Little Lies.” “Everywhere.” They were all Christine compositions.

Join Chris Molanphy as he remembers Christine McVie, who died in late 2022 at age 79, and restores her rightful place as the glue that held Fleetwood Mac together.

Podcast production by Kevin Bendis.

Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices