One-Hit Wonders Who Deserved More Than 15 Minutes Of Fame

The core of the Dwight Twilley Band formed in the late 1960s, when Tulsa native Twilley met vocalist Phil Seymour while the pair were still in high school. Their rockabilly-tinged power pop was partially shaped by Jerry Phillips, son of legendary Sun Records mogul Sam Phillips, and in 1974 they signed to small label Shelter Records, along with fellow regional unknowns Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers. For the rest of the '70s, the band banged their heads against the stubborn Billboard charts, while Petty's outfit slowly-but-surely became one of the most popular bands in the country. The 1978 album "Twilley Don't Mind" produced one minor hit, "I'm on Fire," and the way Twilley's luck went from that point on, he may well have been.

Seymour left the band after the album's sales tanked, and Twilley began recording on his own. His 1984 album "Jungle," released at the peak of the MTV era, seemed as though it might finally punch his ticket to the mainstream when its lead single, "Girls," became a breakout hit — largely due to an assist from Twilley's old buddy Petty on counterpoint vocal, and an R-rated version of the video that aired on the Playboy Channel. While the Petty-and-naughty-lady-bits strategy propelled the song to No. 16 on the singles chart, it unfortunately seemed to be the only strategy his label had, because Twilley disappeared from the public consciousness the moment "Girls" did.

His career now spans well over 40 years and dozens of albums, and his name has become synonymous in certain circles with talented artists who just can't catch a break. But he is a legend on the Tulsa music scene at least, which is a lot like being Emperor of Chuck E. Cheese.

When we say "Falco," you say "AMADEUS, AMADEUS! OHHHHHHH, AAAAAMADEUS!" over and over, like some kind of jackass. But, it's understandable — the Austrian rapper's monster No. 1 U.S. hit is so damn catchy, we're betting a lot of you just figure you don't remember the words anymore, and have forgotten that it wasn't even in English.

Speaking of which: how many Austrian rappers with huge No. 1 stateside hits can you name? You can make that list on one finger, and it reads "Falco." Also, do you know what the first U.S. No. 1 by a male rap artist was? No, we're not messing with you, it was totally "Rock Me Amadeus," and what we're getting at here is that Falco was one of the biggest overachievers in the history of pop. Beginning his rap career in the early '80s when American rap was considered a fringe fad, he penned the original version of the international hit "Der Kommissar" — the English cover of which went to #5 in the States — before dropping "Rock Me Amadeus" on our faces in 1986.

Despite tragically checking out in a car accident in 1998, he is still well-remembered in his native Austria, being that country's best-selling artist ever, with ridiculous sales of around 60 million. If you ask us, his more impressive legacy is that future rap powerhouses like Eminem, Jay-Z, and Drake were all forced to follow a trail blazed by a European dude rapping about Mozart while wearing a powdered wig.

Thomas Dolby enjoyed a brief reign as King of All Geeks in the Spring of 1983, as his hit single "She Blinded Me With Science" peaked at No. 5 on the U.S. charts. His musical mad scientist persona may have seemed like a carefully crafted fit for the golden age of New Wave, but it's no persona — he really is some kind of freaking mad scientist, and he's been finding ways to get into your ears for decades.

For starters, his work has appeared in a truckload of films, TV episodes, and video games, and he's been a session player for the likes of David Bowie, Stevie Wonder and George Clinton. Then there's his side career as a Silicon Valley entrepreneur, which saw him found a company that created part of the technology that lead to the ringtone explosion of the early 2000s. While doing all that, he also served as musical director of the TED Conference for nearly two decades, but retired in 2012 ... to become a professor at Johns Hopkins University. And he's still not too full of himself to pull out an awesome live rendition of the tune that everyone makes fun of him for. We're assuming he teaches a course at JHU titled "How to Outright Kill It at Everything."

Casual fans of Outkast have heard them refer early and often to the Dungeon Family, but you may not know what this means. It refers to a collective of Atlanta-area artists who were all attempting to make national waves in the 1990s, and Outkast wasone of their premier acts. The other was Goodie Mob — for awhile, it was a toss-up as to which of the groups would attain superstardom first.

Goodie Mob's idiosyncratic, tag-team rapping backed by production outfit Organized Noize — watch the Netflix documentary, it's awesome — debuted on the 1996 single "Cell Therapy," a surprise hit that prompted one producer to proclaim them the next Public Enemy, at a time when that was a good thing. But although their 1997 sophomore album sold reasonably well, Outkast began absolutely crushing it the following year with the release of "Aquemini," and the Mob's label was a tad disappointed when they were unable to follow suit. The group was dropped after the 1999 album "World Party," also losing one of their more valuable members — Cee Lo Green, who would go on to keep one-hit-wondering on his own, and as a member of an awesome but unfortunately named duo. A 2013 reunion went mostly unnoticed, as the Mob insist on making "hip-hop for adults," and apparently nobody wants that.

If the name Harold Faltermeyer rings a bell, it's more than likely because that was the name of your high school math teacher. But in the early '80s, when synths were beginning to rule all pop music, Faltermeyer was the ruler of all synths, and he is responsible for at least one piece of music that we guarantee is etched deep into your brain. Listen to the first three seconds, and the entire song will be stuck in your head for three days. This is our promise, and our threat.

Faltermeyer is the composer of "Axel F," the theme to "Beverly Hills Cop" and the single catchiest synth-pop instrumental not performed by Herbie Hancock or associated with Ferris Bueller. He began his career by helping electronic music pioneer Giorgio Moroder with his arrangements, and he was recruited for the Hollywood machine by mega-producers Don Simpson and Jerry Bruckheimer, after they heard his kickass keyboard-playing on Donna Summer's hit album "Bad Girls." "Axel F" was one of his first efforts for film, and it shocked everybody involved by becoming a massive pop hit.

He would go on to contribute similarly catchy to tunes to craploads of '80s movies including "Fletch," "The Running Man," and "Tango and Cash," but further chart toppers failed to materialize — even "Top Gun Anthem," featuring Billy Idol's guitarist Steve Stevens, failed to make a dent in the charts. Faltermeyer took a two-decade break from Hollywood to be a family guy, but returned to score Kevin Smith's 2010 film "Cop Out." He may not have the name recognition he deserves, but he can always take solace in the incredibly deep discography of awesome artists he's worked with, and his boatloads of money. And two Grammys. Poor guy.

If you're a fan of '80s music, or are at all familiar with synthesizer-based pop, then there is an insanely catchy intertwined bass and synth line that pops into your head upon hearing the words "Crack that whip!" This is thanks to Devo, a singularly adventurous outfit whose 1980 single "Whip It" became a No. 14 U.S. hit in 1980 and garnered yet more attention after the advent of MTV thanks to its jaw-droppingly weird music video. It was the band's only significant hit — but this is only because Devo, the very definition of "art rock," was not exactly designed for the mainstream.

Formed by Mark Mothersbaugh and Gerald Casale while still in college, the band's motif of "de-evolution" (encapsulated by the title of their 1978 debut LP, "Q: Are We Not Men? A: We Are Devo!") was expressed through their complete deconstruction of every element of pop music. Their robotic vocals, near-metronomic rhythms (courtesy of drummer Alan Myers), and insane visual aesthetic confounded casual fans and critics — but just call them ahead of their time. Their artsy, technology-driven approach to their craft was at the bleeding edge of the New Wave movement. "Whip It," which incidentally is a killer tune, was among the first hit songs to feature a synthesizer lead — and Devo proved to be a massive influence on future critical darlings like Radiohead and LCD Soundsystem. Mothersbaugh went on to a sterling career as a composer for film and television, and a few lineup changes notwithstanding, Devo continues to de-evolve to this day.

The descriptors "One-Hit Wonder" and "Rock and Roll Hall of Famer" don't often intersect, but then, Elvin Bishop has not had the most conventional career path. As a member of the Paul Butterfield Blues Band, Bishop — an ace guitarist whose South Side Chicago blues bonafides are evident in every note he plays — helped to inspire generations of rock artists to embrace the genre's bluesy roots. While the outfit didn't make the biggest impact on the Billboard charts, their impact on their fellow artists was far greater. Bishop recorded four albums with the band before relocating to the Bay Area to embark upon a solo career, one that went relatively unnoticed but for one, monster smash hit song.

This would be the 1976 single "Fooled Around and Fell in Love," a ridiculously soulful number featuring a stellar lead vocal from singer Mickey Thomas. The tune spent a whopping 17 weeks on the Billboard chart, peaking at No. 3, became a staple of classic rock radio, and gained yet more exposure when it was featured on the (totally awesome) soundtrack to Marvel's "Guardians of the Galaxy" in 2014. Bishop has continued to record blues records ever since but has never again sniffed that kind of chart success; the same, however, cannot be said for Thomas. Owing partially to the success of Bishop's lone hit, he was later invited to join Jefferson Starship, which later became simply Starship before contributing some of the most universally despised massive hits of all time in "We Built This City" and "Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now."

Released during the Summer of Love in 1967, Buffalo Springfield's "For What It's Worth" is instantly evocative of '60s counterculture; you may not know it by its title, which is not featured in the lyrics, but you certainly know it by the chorus "Stop, hey, what's that sound / Everybody look what's going down." The tune came smack in the middle of the band's extremely short run; they only released three albums in two years between 1966 and 1968, with its members going on to other things after its demise. But aside from that one iconic top 10 hit, it's those other things that make Buffalo Springfield noteworthy, for it was nothing short of a breeding ground for amazing artists.

For starters, the band's guitarist and pianist was Neil Young, whom you may have heard of. When he wasn't dropping classic albums with his band Crazy Horse, he was teaming up with fellow former Buffalo Springfield members Stephen Stills, whose folk-rock outfit Crosby, Stills and Nash occasionally tacked Young onto the end of their moniker. Guitarist Richie Furay and bassist Jim Messina would go on to form Poco, who scored three top 20 hits and whose members Randy Meisner and Timothy B. Schmidt would go on to be key members of The Eagles; Messina would later form a partnership with singer-songwriter Kenny Loggins, who inexplicably dominated movie soundtracks in the '80s. Due to their influence on '70s album rock and the fact that pretty much all of them are legends, Buffalo Springfield was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1997.