That opening drum beat hits like a physical punch. It’s tribal. It’s relentless. Before Doug Fieger even breathes a word, you know exactly what’s happening. My Sharona by The Knack isn't just a song; it’s a cultural permanent marker that bled all over the summer of 1979 and never really washed out.
People call it power pop. Others call it a fluke. Honestly? It was a calculated explosion.
At a time when disco was starting to gasp for air and punk was too scary for the suburbs, The Knack showed up in skinny ties with a riff that felt like a chainsaw. It stayed at number one for six weeks. It sold a million copies faster than any debut single since the Beatles' "I Want to Hold Your Hand." But the story behind the song is way weirder, and a bit more uncomfortable, than the catchy "muh-muh-muh-my" hook suggests.
The Muse Was Very Real (And Very Young)
Most rock songs about "girls" are vague composites. Not this one.
Doug Fieger was 25 years old when he walked into a clothing store and saw Sharona Alperin. She was 17. He fell hard. Like, creepy-level hard. He told his girlfriend at the time that he was in love with this teenager he’d just met. He started writing songs about her almost immediately. He wanted her. He needed her. He was obsessed.
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Sharona actually became the band's muse, appearing on the single's sleeve holding a copy of the album. Eventually, Fieger's persistence worked. They dated for four years. While the lyrics are undeniably thirsty—lines about "the touch of the younger kind" haven't exactly aged like fine wine—the raw, hormonal energy is what made the track vibrate. It wasn't polite. It was a fever dream set to a G-major chord.
The Riff That Swallowed the Radio
Let's talk about that riff. Berton Averre, the band’s guitarist, had been sitting on that guitar figure for years before the band even formed. He didn't think it was a hit. He thought it was just a little thing.
When Fieger heard it, he knew. He forced the lyrics he'd been scribbling about Alperin onto Averre’s syncopated, jerky melody. The result was a masterpiece of tension and release.
Why the production worked:
- Dryness: Mike Chapman, the producer, stripped away the reverb. It sounds like the band is playing in your garage, right against your ear.
- The Solo: Most pop songs of that era had short, melodic breaks. Berton Averre’s solo in My Sharona is a sprawling, virtuosic monster that lasts nearly half the song's duration in the album version. It’s more Eric Clapton than Joey Ramone.
- The Stutter: That "muh-muh-muh" wasn't just a gimmick. It was a tribute to Roger Daltrey in "My Generation." It created a hook that even people who hated the song couldn't stop humming.
The Knack were heavily marketed as the "New Beatles." They wore the suits. They had the Capitol Records label. They even used a similar photography style for the Get The Knack album cover. This backfired. Hard. Critics felt manipulated. The "Knuke the Knack" campaign started almost as fast as their rise to fame. It was one of the first times we saw a massive "poptimism" vs. "rockism" war play out in real time.
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The Legacy of the "One-Hit Wonder" Tag
Is it fair to call them a one-hit wonder? Technically, they had other hits. "Good Girls Don't" reached number 11. But My Sharona by The Knack was so massive it essentially blotted out the sun. It became a parody (weirdly, even Weird Al Yankovic’s "My Bologna" became a hit partly because the original was so ubiquitous).
Then came the 90s.
Ben Stiller used the song in a pivotal convenience store dance scene in Reality Bites. Suddenly, Generation X rediscovered the track. It wasn't a 70s relic anymore; it was an ironic, high-energy anthem for a new decade. It proved that a great hook is immortal. Even Kurt Cobain cited The Knack as an influence on his songwriting, specifically regarding the simplicity and "pop" sensibility he brought to Nirvana.
Why It Still Works in 2026
We live in a world of over-produced, quantized music. My Sharona sounds human. It’s messy. It’s aggressive. It’s a snapshot of a guy who was probably being a bit too intense about a girl he barely knew, backed by a band that was playing for their lives.
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The song's structure is actually fairly complex under the hood. The bridge shifts gears entirely, moving into a more melodic, almost melancholy space before slamming back into that iconic solo. It's a masterclass in dynamics.
Actionable Takeaways for Music Fans and Creators:
- Listen to the full album version. If you've only heard the radio edit, you're missing the best part. The extended guitar solo is where the real musicianship lives.
- Study the "Dry" Production. If you're a producer, notice how the lack of "room sound" makes the drums feel more aggressive. In a digital world, this "in-your-face" mixing style is still a powerful tool.
- Separate the Art from the Inspiration. The backstory is complicated by modern standards, but the song remains a foundational text of the Power Pop genre. Understanding the context helps you appreciate the raw, desperate energy of the performance.
- Look for the "Sharona" in other hits. From "Layla" to "Roxanne," rock history is built on specific muses. This song is the most direct, literal example of that trope.
Sharona Alperin eventually became a successful high-end realtor in Los Angeles. Her website? mysharona.com. She leaned into it. Doug Fieger passed away in 2010, but he lived long enough to see his song become a permanent fixture in the global psyche. You can’t escape that riff. You shouldn't want to.
To truly understand the impact of the track, go back and watch the 1979 live footage from Carnegie Hall. The energy is terrifying. It’s a reminder that before the marketing, before the "New Beatles" hype, and before the parodies, there was just a band with a loud guitar and a hook that wouldn't quit.
Check your local vinyl shop for a clean copy of Get The Knack. It’s often found in the dollar bins because of how many copies were printed, making it one of the best "bang for your buck" additions to any record collection. Crank the volume, skip the disco tracks, and let that drum intro do its work.