5 Golden Oldies We Always Turn Up When They Come On The Radio

You may not consider yourself a Golden Oldies fan, but chances are you've sung along to one at some point during your life. Here, we've selected five Golden Oldies we can't help turning up when they come on the radio.

The New York Times reported as early as 1972 how commercial radio had made a decisive turn toward playing older music, and vastly grown its audience in the process. What's notable is that, since then, much of the music that was considered appealingly retro in the early 1970s has continued to have appeal for modern listeners half a century later.

Here, then, are five Golden Oldies that you are sure to find irresistible. The exact definition of a Golden Oldie is still debated; some say that the term refers exclusively to evergreen songs released between 1955 and 1965, while others are far more liberal with their definition, saying that songs released decades ago automatically join the category after a certain amount of time has passed. For this article, we're calling golden oldies rock and R&B songs released up until the end of the 1960s. These are songs you instantly recognize the moment you hear them on the radio, and your hand goes to the volume dial with barely a thought.

The Mamas & The Papas had many hits during the 1960s, including the No. 1 song "Monday, Monday," but none has endured as well as 1966's "California Dreamin'," which, despite peaking at No. 4 on the pop chart, remains a radio staple six decades on. The hazy, woozy track imagines a character in a gray, winter landscape, reminiscing about the warmth of the Golden State. Penned by songwriting couple Michelle and John Phillips in 1963, the song drew on their experiences of a cold New York winter and their real-life nostalgia for the West Coast.

The narrator tells us that they went to a church, and "fell down on my knees," and the contrast between the anguished lead vocal and the hypnotic background harmonies lends "California Dreamin'" a sense of almost religious longing. For a track with such emotional depth, it is remarkable that it is also a sing-along classic; it's difficult to resist cranking the volume up and joining in with those infectious backing vocals.

Van Morrison has had a long and distinguished career, and the Northern Irish singer has enjoyed a huge amount of critical acclaim, especially in the wake of his classic second album, 1968's "Astral Weeks." But when it comes to radio play, it is a single that was released just as his career was beginning that has attracted the greatest listenership.

"Brown Eyed Girl" was recorded when the budding singer had left his former garage rock band, Them, to go solo. At the time, he was still finding his voice, as the haphazard album "Blowin' Your Mind!" shows. But his first single is an undoubted home run, a joyous, straightforward love song that stands among the best of the genre.

As well as an instantly recognizable bright and sunny instrumental, "Brown Eyed Girl" showcases Morrison's voice-as-instrument vocal style. Just try to resist singing along to the famous "sha la la la" refrain. 

Ranked the greatest song of all time by Rolling Stone magazine in 2024, Aretha Franklin's towering classic "Respect" has only grown in reputation since it was first released back in 1967. Surprisingly, though the song is now regarded as the ultimate feminist anthem, it began life as a song performed by a man. Otis Redding's 1965 original was sung from the point of view of a narrator seeking respect from a partner when they get home from work. It's a solid slice of classic R&B.

But Franklin's version is on another level entirely. As well as being one of popular music's most acclaimed vocalists, Franklin was a talented arranger. Her addition of new hooks, including the spelling out of "R-E-S-P-E-C-T" and the "sock it to me" chant provided by her backing singers — who on this track included Franklin's sister, Carolyn — as well as the increased tempo transforms "Respect" into a defiant, upbeat track, immaculately performed.

"Respect" is the kind of track you want to hear after acing a job interview or getting a project greenlit. Though associated with feminism as well as the Civil Rights movement, it's a song that can empower anyone.

Opening with one of the most celebrated bass lines in the world of music, Ben E. King's iconic 1961 recording of "Stand By Me" is arguably the greatest ballad of the decade. Produced by Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller, who by then had already masterminded a string of hits, including Elvis Presley's "Hound Dog," the King-penned track was a huge international hit upon its release and has remained a radio favorite as well as a go-to track for weddings and movies.

King derived his composition from the traditional hymn "Stand By Me Father," taking the gospel phraseology and transforming it into a love song. Accompanied by tasteful strings and an elegant chord progression developed by Leiber and Stoller, the song has become a standard, with hundreds of cover versions. But few can attain the heights the song achieves through King's warm tenor, which the instrumental never overshadows. This is a track so lushly layered that it refuses to be listened to quietly.

Soul music is generally considered an American phenomenon, but the genre, which burgeoned in the 1960s under the influence of innovators like Ray Charles, also flourished overseas. The Foundations were a British soul act whose members also had roots in Sri Lanka and the West Indies, and in Manfred Mann vocalist Mike d'Abo and multi-Ivor Novello Award-winner Tony Macaulay, the group had two songwriters able to craft infectious soul that could climb the pop charts.

"Build Me Up Buttercup" was The Foundations' biggest hit, performed with new vocalist Colin Young, who joined the group for the first time in the vocal booth. The song succeeds in contrasting its joyous instrumental with its lovelorn lyrics, which tell the story of a narrator frustrated by their love interest repeatedly letting them down. But Young's vocals never stray into sentimentality or self-pity, and his inflections, such as an elongated, multi-syllable "I" beginning "I need you, baby," just ask to be imitated at full volume. The track has had a long afterlife in other media, including in the finale of the Ben Stiller comedy "There's Something About Mary," and is frequently played at family events on both sides of the Atlantic.