You’ve probably seen the grainy 1978 footage of a man in a shimmering gold headdress doing a stiff-armed dance. It’s silly. It’s absurd. Steve Martin King Tut is one of those rare moments in television history that feels like a fever dream, but it actually happened, and it actually dominated the Billboard charts. Honestly, if you didn’t live through the late 1970s, it is hard to grasp just how massive "Tutmania" was. People weren't just interested in archaeology; they were obsessed.
The story starts with a museum tour. But not just any tour. The "Treasures of Tutankhamun" was a massive, seven-city U.S. exhibition that ran from 1976 to 1979. It was a cultural juggernaut. Millions of people waited in lines for hours—sometimes in the freezing cold—just to catch a glimpse of a golden mask. It was the first "blockbuster" museum event. And with that fame came the merch. You could buy Tut t-shirts, Tut coffee mugs, even Tut-themed cocktails.
Steve Martin saw this. He saw the "national disgrace" of commercializing a dead boy-king and decided to do what he does best: make it weirder.
The Night SNL Went Egyptian
On April 22, 1978, Steve Martin hosted Saturday Night Live. It was his fifth time hosting, and he wanted to go big. He walked out on stage with a deadpan expression, wearing a ridiculous architectural hat and faux-Egyptian garb. He told the audience he was sick of the exploitation. He said he’d gone into the woods to find a way to honor the pharaoh with "ancient modalities."
Then the beat dropped.
It wasn't ancient music. It was a funky, disco-infused novelty track backed by members of the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band (billed as the Toot Uncommons). The production was massive for SNL at the time. It cost a fortune. There were dancers, gold-painted props, and a literal sarcophagus.
Why the Saxophone Solo Changed Everything
Midway through the song, the golden sarcophagus in the center of the stage popped open. Out stepped saxophonist Lou Marini, his entire body painted gold. He started ripping a solo that felt more like a New York jazz club than a Valley of the Kings tomb. It was the peak of 70s absurdity.
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The lyrics were intentionally nonsense:
- "Born in Arizona, moved to Babylonia."
- "He’s my favorite honkey!"
- "Gave his life for tourism."
- "He’s got a condo made of stone-a."
It was a sharp, satirical jab at how America turns history into a gift shop. Martin wasn't mocking the Pharaoh; he was mocking the people selling the Pharaoh.
The Chart-Topping Success Nobody Expected
Most SNL sketches die after the credits roll. Not this one. The song "King Tut" was released as a single and became a legitimate hit. It reached number 17 on the Billboard Hot 100 in August 1978. It sold over a million copies. Think about that for a second. A comedy song about a mummy was competing with disco legends and rock stars on the radio.
In Chicago, the song was even bigger. Radio station WLS-AM kept it at the number-one spot for four weeks. It ended up being the 11th-biggest hit of the year for that station.
The Real Cost of Comedy
While it looked like a bunch of guys just goofing around, the Steve Martin King Tut sketch was a logistical nightmare. SNL writers like Marilyn Suzanne Miller have noted that it was one of the most expensive things they had ever attempted. The costumes alone were a jump in quality for the show.
- The Band: The entire SNL band had to be shirtless and kitted out in Egyptian collars.
- The Set: A full Hollywood-style temple setup on a 30 Rockefeller Plaza stage.
- The Paint: Lou Marini had to be covered in gold body paint, which is a mess to get off in a communal shower.
Is it Still Funny? The Modern Debate
In recent years, the sketch has faced some pushback. In 2017, a group of students at Reed College protested when the video was shown in a humanities course. They called it cultural appropriation and compared the gold face paint to blackface.
However, many comedy historians and fans argue that the context is vital. The "bit" isn't about Egyptian culture; it's about American consumerism. Martin was parodying the "Tut-glut"—the explosion of tacky souvenirs that followed the exhibit. He was leaning into the "wild and crazy guy" persona that made him a superstar.
Honestly, the humor comes from the deliberate inaccuracies. Tutankhamun wasn't from Arizona. He didn't move to Babylonia. The song is a "mockery of a mockery."
The Enduring Legacy of the Boy King
Steve Martin didn't leave the song in the 70s. He has performed "King Tut" several times over the decades, often with a bluegrass twist alongside the Steep Canyon Rangers. Seeing the disco-era hit played with banjos adds another layer of weirdness that fits Martin's career trajectory perfectly.
What can we take away from this? Maybe it's that culture is always a bit of a mess. One day you’re a king in the 18th Dynasty, the next you’re a gold-plated saxophone player on late-night TV.
How to experience the history of Steve Martin King Tut today:
- Watch the original SNL clip: It’s available on various streaming platforms and the SNL YouTube channel. Look for Season 3, Episode 18.
- Listen to "A Wild and Crazy Guy": The album features the full version of the song, which is slightly longer than the TV performance.
- Check out the B-side: If you can find the original 45rpm record, listen to "Sally Goodin." It shows off Martin’s actual banjo skills, which are world-class.
- Research the 1970s Tour: Look up photos of the "Treasures of Tutankhamun" exhibit. Seeing the actual gold mask helps you understand why the country went so crazy for it.
The song remains a time capsule of a specific moment in American history where archaeology, disco, and a man with a prop arrow through his head all collided at once. It’s loud, it’s expensive, and it’s still catchy as hell.
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Next, you can look into the history of the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band to see how they ended up as the "Toot Uncommons" or dive into the actual archaeological findings of the 1922 discovery to compare the real Tut with the "funky" version.