It’s a song you know. You’ve probably screamed it at a stadium when a rival player got ejected, or maybe you've heard it at a wedding when the DJ ran out of ideas. Na Na Hey Hey Kiss Him Goodbye is everywhere. It is the definitive soundtrack to someone losing, failing, or just plain leaving. But here is the thing: the song was never supposed to exist. It was a throwaway. A "B-side" fluke recorded by a band that didn't even have a name when they stepped into the booth.
The Fake Band That Made a Real Hit
In 1969, Paul Leka, Gary DeCarlo, and Dale Frashuer were hanging out at Mercury Records. They were songwriters and producers, mostly. DeCarlo was the voice—he was recording some solo singles under the name Garrett Scott. The label wanted a B-side for one of those singles, something unimportant that wouldn't distract from the "real" hit.
They dug up a song they’d written nearly a decade earlier called "Kiss Him Goodbye." It was a standard, slightly sappy 1960s pop tune. But Leka thought it was too short. He decided they needed to stretch it out.
They didn't have a full set of lyrics for the chorus. Honestly, they didn't even care. They just started chanting. "Na na na na... hey hey hey... goodbye."
They thought it was garbage.
Leka actually made the drum track sound "clunky" on purpose because he didn't want the song to be too good. He didn't want it to compete with DeCarlo's solo career. They even added some weird, distorted percussion. When the label heard it, they realized the "garbage" B-side was actually a monster hit. But there was a problem: DeCarlo didn't want his name on it. He thought it would ruin his reputation as a serious artist. So, they invented a band name. They called themselves Steam.
Why the Song Stuck (And Why We Still Sing It)
You have to look at the structure to understand why this thing works. Most pop songs of that era were trying to be sophisticated. They wanted to be The Beatles or Motown. Steam went the other way. By using "Na Na" instead of actual words, they created something universal. A toddler can sing it. A drunk guy at a baseball game can sing it. A person who doesn't speak a lick of English can sing it perfectly.
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It’s a chant.
The rhythm is relentless. That "clunky" drum beat Paul Leka tried to use to bury the song became its greatest strength. It has a heavy, driving force that feels like a march. It’s tribal.
By the time the song hit #1 on the Billboard Hot 100 in December 1969, Steam wasn't even a real group. They had to scramble to put a band together for tours because the guys who recorded it were studio rats who had no interest in being on the road. The guys you saw on the album cover? Mostly not the guys who sang on the record. It was a total facade.
The Sports Connection: How the White Sox Changed Everything
For about a decade, Na Na Hey Hey Kiss Him Goodbye was just another oldie. It lived on the radio, sure, but it hadn't become the cultural weapon it is today.
That changed in 1977.
Nancy Faust was the organist for the Chicago White Sox. She’s a legend in the world of sports music. She had a knack for playing songs that commented on the game. When a pitcher for the opposing team got pulled, she’d start playing the chorus.
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The fans loved it.
It was the perfect "trash talk" song. It wasn't profane, but it was incredibly condescending. Imagine being a professional athlete, walking off the field after a failure, and 40,000 people are singing "hey hey hey, goodbye" at you. It’s brutal. From Comiskey Park, the trend spread like wildfire. Within a few years, every hockey arena, basketball court, and football stadium in America had it in the rotation.
The Bananarama Revival and Pop Longevity
The song has an incredible ability to reinvent itself every 15 years. In 1983, the British girl group Bananarama covered it. Their version was more synth-heavy, a bit more polished, and it became a massive hit all over again.
It proved the song wasn't just a 1969 fluke.
Then came the movies. Remember the Titans used it in a pivotal scene, cementing it as a "sports movie" staple. It’s been in The Simpsons. It’s been in commercials for everything from insurance to snack food.
What’s wild is that the original songwriters made a fortune off a track they tried to make sound bad. Paul Leka once said in an interview that he was "embarrassed" when he first recorded it. He thought it was a joke. The joke ended up selling millions of copies and becoming one of the most performed songs in the BMI catalog.
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Breaking Down the Lyrics (Or Lack Thereof)
People often get the lyrics wrong. They think it's a song about a breakup—and it is, technically. The verses describe a guy telling a girl that her current boyfriend is no good and that she should "kiss him goodbye" and come to him.
"He'll never love you, the way that I love you / Cause if he did, no no, he wouldn't make you cry."
It’s actually kind of a "nice guy" anthem if you read the verses. But nobody cares about the verses. The verses are the boring part you sit through until the "Na Na" hits. The hook is so powerful that it completely overwrote the meaning of the song. It stopped being a song about a romantic triangle and became a song about victory and exit.
The Technical Genius of a "Bad" Recording
If you listen to the original 1969 track with good headphones, you’ll hear why it works. It’s incredibly raw.
- The Drum Mix: It’s way too loud. In 1969, drums were usually tucked back. Steam put them right in your face.
- The Vocals: They aren't "pretty." There is a slight strain in Gary DeCarlo’s voice that makes it feel authentic.
- The Fade Out: The song lasts for over four minutes, which was long for a pop single then. The "Na Na" section goes on forever, which is why it works so well for stadium loops.
The Legacy of Steam
The "band" Steam never had another hit. How could they? They weren't a band. They were a moment in time captured by three guys who were just trying to fill space on a 7-inch vinyl. Gary DeCarlo eventually embraced the song's legacy, though he spent years frustrated that he wasn't known for his more "serious" work. He passed away in 2017, but his voice is still heard by millions of people every single week.
It’s a reminder that in the music business, you can't always manufacture a hit. Sometimes the things you try to bury are the things the world decides to keep.
Actionable Takeaways for Music Fans and Creators
If you're a musician or just a fan of pop history, there are a few things to learn from the story of this song:
- Don't overthink the hook. Sometimes the simplest, most "nonsense" sounds are what resonate most with the human brain. Don't be afraid of the "Na Na."
- The B-side might be the A-side. If you're creating something, don't dismiss your "throwaway" ideas. They often have an energy that your polished work lacks.
- Context is everything. This song became a legend because of a baseball organist, not a record executive. Where a song is played matters as much as how it’s recorded.
- Embrace the accidental. Steam didn't exist until the song did. You don't always need a perfect brand or a 5-year plan to make an impact.
Next time you're at a game and the crowd starts singing, remember three guys in a studio in 1969 who thought they were making a flop. They ended up writing the world’s most famous exit theme.