If you were around in 1991, or if you’ve spent any time digging through the bargain bins of Canadian folk-rock history, you’ve stumbled upon it. That voice. Brad Roberts has a baritone so deep it feels like it’s vibrating from the center of the earth. But while most people immediately think of "Mmm Mmm Mmm Mmm" when they hear the name Crash Test Dummies, Superman’s Song is actually where the real magic started.
It’s a strange track. Honestly.
On the surface, it’s a song about a comic book hero. In reality, it’s a mid-tempo, cello-heavy meditation on the crushing weight of public service, the death of community spirit, and the quiet dignity of a man who just wants to do the right thing without getting sued. It’s a ballad for the overworked and underappreciated.
The Politics of Being a Hero
Most people think of Superman as an invincible god. Roberts didn’t see him that way. Writing for the band's debut album, The Ghosts That Haunt Me, he framed the Man of Steel through a lens of political philosophy and slightly cynical realism.
The song treats Superman as a "supranational" entity who is constantly being hassled by the very people he’s trying to save. Roberts sings about how Superman never made any money. He didn't have a side hustle. He wasn't out there signing endorsement deals for protein shakes or high-end capes. Instead, he was busy "making the world a safer place," while the rest of the world was busy looking for reasons to complain.
It’s a bit heartbreaking if you really listen to the lyrics.
The central conflict of Crash Test Dummies Superman’s Song isn't a fight with Lex Luthor. There are no kryptonite lasers here. The "villain" is actually Tarzan. Or rather, the idea of Tarzan. Roberts uses the King of the Jungle as a foil—a guy who bailed on society to go hang out with apes and live a life of leisure. While Superman is worrying about international borders and global safety, Tarzan is "lounging" in the jungle, avoiding the "real world" entirely.
✨ Don't miss: Priyanka Chopra Latest Movies: Why Her 2026 Slate Is Riskier Than You Think
It’s a commentary on the "Great Man" theory of history. Do we step up and help, or do we retreat into our own private jungles?
Why the Cello Makes the Song
Musically, the track is a masterclass in "less is more." Ellen Reid’s backing vocals provide this ethereal, almost ghostly counterpoint to Roberts’ gravelly delivery. But the secret weapon is the cello.
In the early 90s, the airwaves were dominated by hair metal and the burgeoning grunge scene. Then you had these guys from Winnipeg. They didn't have distorted guitars or screaming leads. They had a cello. It gives the song a funeral-like quality. It’s somber. It’s grounded. It makes the subject matter feel heavy, which is exactly how a song about the burdens of responsibility should feel.
If you play this song today, it doesn't sound dated like a lot of 1991 production. It feels timeless because it relies on acoustic textures rather than the synth-heavy trends of the era. It’s folk music with a cape on.
The Superman vs. Tarzan Debate
Let’s talk about that middle section. You’ve got Superman, who is basically a glorified civil servant, and Tarzan, who is a "be-spectacled" hermit (at least in Roberts' poetic imagination of his civilian life).
"And Tarzan was a king, and he liked to eat some food. He'd eat it with his hands and he'd be in a good mood."
🔗 Read more: Why This Is How We Roll FGL Is Still The Song That Defines Modern Country
The juxtaposition is hilarious but also kind of biting. Tarzan doesn't care about the news. He doesn't care about the economy. He’s happy. Superman, meanwhile, is stuck in a suit, stuck in a job, and stuck with the knowledge that if he stops for a second, the world might actually end.
Roberts once mentioned in interviews that the song was partly inspired by his own feelings on political activism and the way people who try to change things are often treated with suspicion. We want heroes, but we also want to tear them down the moment they seem too perfect. It's a very Canadian sentiment—skeptical of power, even when that power is being used for good.
Fact-Checking the Legacy
Did you know this song actually won a Juno Award? In 1992, it took home Single of the Year. It beat out some heavy hitters. It was the moment the Crash Test Dummies Superman’s Song became more than just a quirky regional hit; it became a cultural touchstone.
Despite its success, the band is often unfairly categorized as a "one-hit wonder" in the United States because of the massive explosion of their follow-up, "Mmm Mmm Mmm Mmm." But in Canada, and among serious alt-folk fans, this is the definitive Dummies track. It has more soul. It has more grit.
The music video is also worth a re-watch. It features a group of retired superheroes at a funeral. It’s low-budget, slightly campy, but weirdly moving. Seeing these aging "heroes" mourning one of their own drives home the song's point: eventually, the work ends, and usually, there’s no one left to thank you.
Why It Hits Different in the 2020s
We live in a world of superhero saturation now. Every six months, there’s a new $200 million movie about caped crusaders. But most of those movies miss the point that the Crash Test Dummies Superman’s Song nailed in four minutes.
💡 You might also like: The Real Story Behind I Can Do Bad All by Myself: From Stage to Screen
Today, we see the "burnout" of the hero. We see the toll that constant connectivity and constant responsibility takes on people. When Roberts sings about Superman having to "change his clothes in a phone booth," he’s talking about the lack of privacy. In 2026, where everyone has a camera in their pocket, that phone booth wouldn't even exist. Superman would be filmed, doxxed, and cancelled before he could even get his boots on.
The song resonates now because we’re all a little tired. We’re all feeling that weight of being "on" all the time.
Actionable Takeaways for the Listener
If you’re looking to dive deeper into the world of Brad Roberts and his songwriting, don’t just stop at the hits. There is a depth to the Dummies' catalog that most people miss because they get hung up on the "quirky" label.
- Listen to the full album The Ghosts That Haunt Me: It’s a tight, cohesive folk-rock record that explores themes of religion, philosophy, and everyday boredom.
- Pay attention to the lyrics, not just the voice: It’s easy to get mesmerized by the bass-baritone, but Roberts is one of the sharpest lyricists of the 90s. He’s more of a poet than a rock star.
- Compare the "Live at the Church of the Holy Trinity" versions: If you want to hear how these songs sound when they're stripped back to their barest elements, find the live recordings. The acoustics of the church bring out a spiritual quality in the music that the studio versions sometimes mask.
- Check out Brad Roberts’ solo work: If you can’t get enough of that voice, his solo acoustic stuff and his "Eclectic" album offer a different, often stranger, look at his creative process.
The real beauty of this track is that it doesn't try to be cool. It’s earnest. It’s a little bit nerdy. It’s a song that understands that being a good person is often a thankless, exhausting, and lonely job. But, as the song suggests, it’s still worth doing.
Even if Tarzan is having a much better time in the woods.
Next Steps for the Deep Diver
Go find a high-quality vinyl pressing or a lossless digital version of the track. Put on a pair of decent headphones. Focus specifically on the interplay between the cello and the bass guitar. It’s one of the most underrated rhythm section pairings in 90s rock. Once you hear how they lock together, you’ll never hear the song the same way again.