Everyone knows the gong. That sharp, metallic "clang" kicks off one of the most recognizable tracks of the 1980s. But if you actually sit down and read the walk like an egyptian song lyrics, you realize pretty quickly that the song is a weird, wonderful fever dream of 80s pop culture and bizarre imagery. It’s not actually about Egypt. Well, not really. It’s about a dance move inspired by ancient reliefs, sure, but the lyrics themselves are a chaotic tour of the world, from the Kremlin to the Nile, all seen through a very specific, neon-tinted lens.
The Bangles weren't even the ones who wrote it. That’s a common misconception. It was Liam Sternberg. He reportedly got the idea while watching people on a ferry struggle to keep their balance. They were flailing their arms in a way that reminded him of those rigid, side-profile poses in ancient Egyptian art. He scribbled some ideas down, and eventually, the song landed in the laps of Susanna Hoffs, Vicki Peterson, Debbi Peterson, and Michael Steele.
It was a massive hit. It topped the Billboard Hot 100 in 1986 and stayed there for four weeks. But the journey of those lyrics from a ferry boat to a global anthem is a strange one.
The Bizarre Geography of the Lyrics
The song opens with a line about coffee in Egypt. "All the old paintings on the tomb / They do the sand dance don't you know." Right away, Sternberg sets a vibe that is less "archaeological study" and more "Saturday morning cartoon." It’s playful. It’s light.
Then we get into the meat of it. The walk like an egyptian song lyrics move fast. One second you're with the "blonde waitresses" taking their trays across the floor, and the next, you're looking at "foreign types with the hookah pipes." Honestly, if you wrote these lyrics today, people might look at you a bit sideways. It’s a very 1980s brand of "world music" that leans heavily on stereotypes for the sake of a catchy rhyme.
- The Nile? Check.
- The crocodiles? Check.
- The Japanese with their "yen"? Check.
It’s a travelogue of a world that doesn't really exist outside of a music video. But that’s the charm. It’s a kitschy, colorful postcard. The second verse shifts gears entirely. We go from the bazaar to the street. "All the school kids so sick of books / They like the punk and the metal band." This is where the song anchors itself in the mid-80s. It’s trying to bridge the gap between ancient history and the burgeoning MTV generation. The "kids in the back with the pockets full of cash" are a direct nod to the burgeoning consumer culture of the Reagan era.
Who Sang What? The Battle for the Mic
One of the most interesting things about the recording of this track isn't the lyrics themselves, but who got to sing them. David Kahne, the producer, had a very specific vision. He actually had the band members "audition" for the verses.
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Vicki Peterson took the first verse. Her voice has that gritty, rock edge that grounds the opening.
Susanna Hoffs took the second. Her breathy, soulful delivery made the "school kids" verse iconic.
Debbi Peterson? She was supposed to sing a verse too. But Kahne decided to use a drum machine for the track instead of her live drumming, and then he gave the third verse to Michael Steele.
Imagine being the drummer and having your two main contributions—your playing and your singing—sidelined on what would become your biggest hit. Debbi was, understandably, not thrilled. This tension is actually a well-documented part of The Bangles' history. It was one of the first cracks in the foundation of the band. Michael Steele’s verse—the one about the Nile and the "pizzaria" (yes, they rhymed Nile with pizzaria)—is delivered with a cool, almost detached vibe that works perfectly, even if the internal politics behind it were messy.
Decoding the "Sand Dance" and the 80s Vibe
"Walk Like an Egyptian" isn't a deep song. It’s not trying to be "Bohemian Rhapsody." It’s a novelty song that somehow became a legitimate pop masterpiece.
The chorus is the hook that never ends. "Way oh whey oh, ay oh whey oh." It’s phonetic nonsense, but it’s the kind of nonsense that works in a stadium. When you look at the walk like an egyptian song lyrics, the chorus acts as a reset button. It clears the palate between the strange observations of the verses.
What's really fascinating is how the song uses the "Egyptian" motif as a metaphor for social conformity—or the lack thereof. Everyone is doing it. The cops in the donut shop. The people at the bazaar. The "blonde waitresses." It suggests a world where everyone is part of the same weird, synchronized dance. In a decade defined by "fitting in" and "power dressing," there’s a subtle irony to everyone mimicking a 3,000-year-old art style.
Or maybe I'm overthinking it. Maybe it just sounded cool.
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Why the Lyrics Almost Didn't Happen
Liam Sternberg originally offered the song to Toni Basil (of "Mickey" fame). She turned it down. Can you imagine a world where "Walk Like an Egyptian" is a Toni Basil song? It would have been even more of a pure novelty act. The Bangles gave it a garage-band credibility that saved it from being a one-hit-wonder joke.
The lyrics also mention the "Kremlin." "The guys on the line at the Kremlin / They lot their wits for the rhythm band." This was 1986. The Cold War was still very much a thing. Including the Soviet Union in a lighthearted pop song was a bit of a "thing" back then—think of Sting’s "Russians" or Nena’s "99 Luftballons." It was a way of acknowledging the global tension while simultaneously dancing through it.
The Legacy of the Whistle
We have to talk about the whistle solo. It’s not in the lyrics, but it’s the soul of the song. That jaunty, slightly off-kilter whistling section is what makes the song feel human. It feels like someone walking down the street, hands in their pockets, just vibing.
When you read the walk like an egyptian song lyrics today, they feel like a time capsule. They capture a moment when pop music was allowed to be purely nonsensical. There’s no message. There’s no political stance. It’s just a collection of observations about people looking silly and a beat that makes you want to tilt your head and slide your hands.
Controversy and Ban
Did you know the song was banned? Sort of. During the 1991 Gulf War, the BBC put "Walk Like an Egyptian" on a list of "sensitive" songs that shouldn't be played. They were worried the references to Egypt and the Middle East might be seen as offensive or inappropriate given the conflict. It seems ridiculous now, but it shows how much power these "silly" lyrics actually had. They were so ubiquitous that they became the default cultural reference for an entire region of the world.
The Bangles themselves have had a complicated relationship with the track. For a long time, it overshadowed their more serious, folk-rock leaning work. They were talented musicians and songwriters, but the world wanted them to do the "hand thing."
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How to Actually "Walk Like an Egyptian"
If you're going to dive into the walk like an egyptian song lyrics, you might as well do the dance right. It’s not just about the hands.
- Keep your elbows at 90-degree angles.
- One hand points forward, one hand points back.
- Keep your palms flat.
- Move your head back and forth like a pigeon (the "chicken neck" move).
- Walk with your feet flat, one in front of the other.
It’s a stiff, awkward movement that looks cool only if you do it with absolute confidence. That’s the secret of the song, too. The lyrics are weird, the rhymes are forced ("Nile" and "pizzaria"), and the premise is thin. But The Bangles performed it with such total conviction that we all just went along with it.
The Song's Second Life
The song found a whole new audience in the 2010s thanks to the anime JoJo's Bizarre Adventure. It was used as the ending theme for the "Stardust Crusaders" arc, which—wait for it—takes place largely in Egypt.
Seeing 1980s pop lyrics synced up with modern Japanese animation was a surreal collision of cultures. It proved that the song's "vibe" is universal. It doesn't matter if you're a teenager in 1986 or an anime fan in 2024; that "Way oh whey oh" hits the same.
Actionable Insights for Music Fans
If you're looking to explore more of this era or understand the song better, here are a few things you can actually do:
- Listen to the "Everything" Album: Don't just stop at the hits. The Bangles' deeper cuts show off their incredible vocal harmonies, which are often compared to The Beatles.
- Check out Liam Sternberg’s other work: He’s a fascinating songwriter who never quite caught lightning in a bottle like this again, but his style is unique.
- Analyze the Music Video: Watch the original video and look for the "regular people" doing the dance. It was filmed on the streets of New York, and many of those people were just random pedestrians. It captures a raw, unpolished energy that is missing from modern, highly-produced videos.
- Try the "Sand Dance" in a modern context: Next time you're at a wedding and the DJ plays this, remember the "school kids" and the "Kremlin." The lyrics are a reminder that pop music is allowed to be weird.
The walk like an egyptian song lyrics are a testament to the power of a simple, catchy idea. It doesn't have to make perfect sense to be perfect. Sometimes, you just need a gong, a whistle, and a dream of a world where everyone, from the cops to the crocs, is moving to the same beat.
The song remains a staple of classic rock and 80s stations for a reason. It’s a three-minute vacation from reality. Whether you're interested in the power dynamics of 80s girl groups or you just want to know why they're talking about a pizzaria on the Nile, the song continues to deliver. It’s catchy, it’s slightly confusing, and it’s undeniably iconic. Just don't expect it to help you pass a history test.