'80s Flop Songs That Hit A Low Note With Critics But Soared With Rock Fans

Rock critics have always been part of the pop music ecosystem, and they were especially important before Spotify ratings and "like" buttons. With no internet or social media in the '80s, these wordsmiths and their backstage passes had more power and cultural cache. Indeed, their ears, ink, interpretation, and appraisal could help make or break a song. Still, critics can't control how fans or the wider market react to music, and they've certainly found themselves at odds with audiences. They've declared songs flops, only to see them develop mass appeal.

Some of the most successful rock singles of the '80s found themselves on the wrong side of the critical gun. Journey's anthemic "Don't Stop Believin'," The Bangles' "Walk Like an Egyptian," and The Beach Boys' "Kokomo" all took bullets from contemporaries. But if you asked the fans or tracked sales, these songs were anything but dead on arrival. And let's not forget that critics can miss the forest for the trees, dismissing era-defining songs only to see them root deeply into cultural memory. No one's perfect, especially rock reviewers.

In putting this together, we sought '80s songs that took heat from contemporary reviewers and caused critics to sharpen their hatchets. On the flip side, these tracks found commercial success, are beloved by fans, and may continue to be influential. Despite the critical lashing they took, these songs grabbed ears and won hearts.

There's always risk when a band reinvents itself — trying something new and treading new sonic waters can set rock reviewers off. This was certainly the case with Genesis' "Invisible Touch," off the group's 1986 album of the same name.  Having made its name in the '70s as progressive rock experimentalists, by the mid-'80s, the band shifted to a synthesizer and electronic drum-driven sound. As the act embraced the pop production that would come to define it, critics weren't convinced.

When "Invisible Touch" came out, one of the biggest knocks of the song and album was that it sounded a lot like drummer and frontman Phil Collins' solo work. Writing for the Los Angeles Times, critic Steve Hochman groused, "Was this record really necessary?" before adding that it "could easily pass as a Collins album." "Invisible Touch" fared no better in the Chicago Tribune, where the staff reviewer quipped, "Will the Free World ever tire of Phil Collins?" The album and song were roasted for being too commercial, too poppy, and uninspired.

But as sharp as these words cut, they couldn't touch the song's commercial success — Genesis fans simply weren't swayed. "Invisible Touch" single spent one week on top of the Billboard Hot 100 charts, the first and only U.S. No. 1 for the band. Clearly, massive rock audiences loved the band's evolved sound and were ready to sing along, even if many critics of the time hated it.

As Styx moved into the '80s, it adopted a cleaner, more contemporary progressive rock sound while keeping the guitar and synth riffs and hooks that made the band special. Opening its 1983 concept album "Kilroy Was Here," "Mr. Roboto" is heavier on the group's updated synth-pop sound. Notably, its memorable Japanese chorus is delivered with a vocoder voice: "Domo arigato, misutu Roboto," meaning "Thank you very much, Mr. Roboto"). It's quite the jump from the band's '70s piano-driven power pop anthems like "Come Sail Away," and maybe that's why critics couldn't stand it.

"Kilroy Was Here" is a rock opera that depicts rock musicians struggling (and spoiler alert: winning) against a fundamentalist Christian-captured world government that's outlawed rock 'n' roll. This concept didn't impress Rolling Stone critic J.D. Considine, who called it "one of the oldest hack plots." Regarding "Mr. Roboto," she added, "It's hard to imagine anyone unfamiliar with the overriding concept making sense of it." Adopting the synth sound palette of bands like Depeche Mode to make a point about censorship didn't sit right with critics.

But there must have been something about the song's odd mixture of '80s production and '70s theatricality, because "Mr. Roboto" became a hit. While it may have disappointed fans of the band's earlier, more progressive rock, it was a massive commercial success, peaking at No. 3 on the Billboard Hot 100 in 1983. As hard as the critics tried to power it down, they couldn't stop people from plugging in.

All-female pop rock group The Bangles took the '80s by storm thanks to its infectious harmonies and hooks. With hits like, "Manic Monday," which was written by Prince, the group emerged from Los Angeles' Paisley Underground scene of '60s-influenced psychedelic rock. In a case of the critics being completely out of step with rock audiences, "Walk Like An Egyptian" off 1986's "Different Light" was a commercial smash that garnered some rancid reviews. Some critics just weren't ready for a song with offbeat lyrics, doo-wop-like "oh way oh" backing vocals, and an associated and iconic dance.

In the U.K.-based pop music weekly, Record Mirror, reviewer Di Cross was jaded by "the statutory guitars, kingly noises and quaint vocals, sucking in the candyfloss pop of some predictably inoffensive lyrics." Written by songwriter Liam Sternberg, "Walk Like An Egyptian" struck critics as kitschy and trite, lacking the substance and emotional weight of other tracks. It also divided the band, with some members hating their most famous song. In a Rolling Stone interview (via Sound on Sound), drummer and vocalist Debbi Peterson called it "a nice little novelty song kind of thing ... but I don't feel like it's us."

Whether or not it was a novelty, "Walk Like an Egyptian" became a global phenomenon and the band's most commercially successful song. Spending four weeks at No. 1 on the Billboard Hot 100 starting in December 1986, it became the top-selling U.S. single of 1987. Though not the most substantive of The Bangles' songs, it's left an indelible mark, and fans still do the awkward dance to this day.

Journey's "Don't Stop Believin'" is a defining anthem for the band. It's custom-built for arenas, with aspirational lyrics about holding onto hope backed by driving keyboards and guitar lines. In 1977, when singer Steve Perry joined the band, the group shed its jazz-rock roots and adopted a harder rock sound. This is on display in "Don't Stop Believin'" and the "Escape" album it appears on. Delivering lines like "Workin' hard to get my fill / Everybody wants a thrill" as if his life depended on it, to fans, this is Perry and Journey at their most iconic.

However, when "Don't Stop Believin'" first came out in 1981, some critics were unimpressed. In a review in Rolling Stone, Deborah Frost was colorful in her disdain, calling the song and "Escape" album a "side trip that Journey make to the dank hole of dreck-ola." She also took exception to Journey's more polished and pop-oriented sound, quipping how it isn't the "hard-rock pose they've been trying to fool us with." Clearly, Journey wasn't getting a ringing endorsement from the rock press establishment of the time.

But not only did "Don't Stop Believin'" find commercial success — peaking within the Top 10 of the Billboard Hot 100 — it became a fan favorite and a fixture in pop culture. Famously, the song was featured in the series finale of HBO's "The Sopranos," and, of course, it's a karaoke staple. The critics didn't believe in this song, yet the chorus continues to inspire singalongs.

The bar is higher for a legendary, genre-defining band making a comeback. Anything it makes will be compared to the classic hits and iconic cuts. No doubt, this is why The Beach Boys' 1988 single, "Kokomo," off the group's "Still Cruisin'" album, was almost universally savaged. Even though the list of islands ("Aruba, Jamaica, ooh I wanna take ya") gets stuck in every head that hears it, critics hated it. "If you've been looking for The Beach Boys to hit rock bottom, the suspense is over," wrote Jimmy Guterman for Rolling Stone, adding that the single "sets the pattern for the new, passion-free songs." Ouch.

Even though "Kokomo" was a comeback for the band, not every member is on it, and it's part of the band's tragic real-life story. Sidelined by worsening mental health and a controversial relationship with a live-in therapist, songwriter and producer Brian Wilson didn't take part in the writing or recording of the song. You can hear it: The polished, sweet sound of "Kokomo" is miles away from lush, Wilson-produced masterpieces like 1966's "Pet Sounds." Stacked against the band's earlier work and missing a key member, the track was set up to fail, at least as far as critics were concerned.

But "Kokomo" didn't sink — songs that catchy and pretty rarely do. Featured on the soundtrack of the Tom Cruise-starring film "Cocktail," it sailed to No. 1 on the Billboard Hot 100 in 1988 and was The Beach Boys' first singles chart topper since 1966's "Good Vibrations." Despite the critics' best efforts, "Kokomo" delighted fans old and new, and it helped the California rock legends hit the high seas again.