You Could Drive a Person Crazy Lyrics - Company

Song Overview

Song Credits

• Primary Artists: Donna McKechnie, Susan Browning & Pamela Myers
• Writer / Composer: Stephen Sondheim
• Producer: Thomas Z. Shepard
• Orchestration: Jonathan Tunick
• Musical Director: Harold Hastings
• Album: Company (Original Broadway Cast)
• Release Date: May 13, 1970
• Genre: Broadway swing-pop with Andrews Sisters flair
• Length: 2 min 36 sec
• Label: Columbia Masterworks
• Mood: Breezy tease, whip-smart snap
• Language: English
• Copyright: © 1970, ? 1970 Tandem Productions & Robert W. G. Music Corp.

Song Meaning and Annotations

Sharp horns, close-harmony “doo-doo-doo”s and a wink of 1940s boogie—right away the trio declares that romance, at least Bobby’s brand of it, is more exhausting than a jitterbug at closing time. The track marries Andrews Sisters bounce with Sondheim’s knife-edge wit: sweet on the surface, acerbic underneath.

Across two brisk minutes the women—April, Kathy and Marta—air their affection and frustration for perennial bachelor Bobby. They alternate between adoration (“Bobby, baby!”) and exasperation, skewering him for dangling commitment like a shiny toy. The jaunty syncopation masks a sly critique of emotional avoidance: the music smiles; the verses bite.

Verse-by-Verse Tease

Opening riff & chorus – The rapid-fire alliteration (“personality is personable”) and scat syllables paint Bobby as charming static; he thrills, then stalls. The slur “fag” startles modern ears—Sondheim’s snapshot of 1970 vernacular, not endorsement, highlighting the characters’ impatience with ambiguity.

Doo-doo-doo…
You could drive a person crazy…

Those playful nonsense syllables? They’re verbal cymbal crashes, resetting the joke each time the women’s patience resets—briefly.

Kathy’s middle eight – Bullfighting imagery (“harder than a matador coercin’ a bull”) casts Bobby as the stubborn beast; the women wave capes of affection, he refuses to charge.

Turning off a person is the act of a man
Who likes to pull the hooks out of fish

Sondheim skewers the thrill-of-the-chase cliché: Bobby catches hearts only to toss them back, hooks scraped, swimmers dizzy.

Knock-knock bridge – Repetition mimics pounding on a door that never opens. “A zombie’s in my arms” twists romance into horror-comedy: their dream date is present but emotionally vacant.

Final tag – “Bobby is my hobby and I’m giving it up!” Delivered with faux-cheer, the line is both liberation and lament—quitting a habit you secretly love.

Similar Songs

1. “Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy” – The Andrews Sisters (1941)
   Both tracks snap with three-part harmony and bright brass. Where “Bugle Boy” rallies wartime morale, “You Could Drive a Person Crazy” rallies frustrated girlfriends, yet each leans on playful syllabic riffing and big-band swagger. The swing pulse invites toe-tapping first; subtext sneaks in later. Listening back-to-back reveals how Sondheim pastiches period sound while sharpening the comedy knife.
2. “A Little Priest” – Angela Lansbury & Len Cariou (from Sweeney Todd, 1979)
   Another Sondheim duet, wickedly clever rhymes aplenty. “Priest” trades Andrews Sisters glide for Victorian waltz-macabre, yet structure mirrors—rapid internal rhymes that escalate absurdity. Both numbers balance charm and menace; laughter turns nervous when you realize how far the joke runs.
3. “Cell Block Tango” – Catherine Zeta-Jones et al. (from Chicago, 1975/2002 film)
   Six women recount wrongs done by men, percussive and punch-line-heavy. Swap 1940s swing for 1920s jazz and you still get snappy call-and-response, sardonic humor and a spotlight on female camaraderie—a chorus line of grievances.

Questions and Answers

Why does the song mimic 1940s girl-group swing?

Sondheim chose the style to cloak sharp commentary in candy-coated harmonies; the retro sound disarms the audience before the zingers land.

Is Bobby actually present during the number?

Onstage he is—usually perched in a chair while the trio circles him—but the women’s lyrics feel like a shared fantasy: scolding him inside their own heads.

What’s with the repeated “Knock, knock” motif?

It literalizes closed emotional doors; every knock is another attempt to break through Bobby’s aloofness.

Does the dated slur undermine modern productions?

Directors often tweak or contextualize the line. Some keep it to expose period attitudes; others substitute a milder jab. Either choice highlights evolving language norms.

How does the orchestration reinforce the comedy?

Jonathan Tunick’s punctuating trumpets and slapstick woodwinds echo cartoon soundtracks—each punch-line gets its own rim-shot or clarinet scoot.

Awards and Chart Positions

The Company cast album won the 1971 Grammy for Best Score from an Original Cast Album, with this track a standout jewel. The show itself captured six Tony Awards that same year, including Best Musical. While individual songs from cast albums rarely charted in 1970, the record peaked at No. 3 on Billboard’s Top Cast Albums listing, affirming its cultural splash.

Fan and Media Reactions

“Those tight harmonies still slap harder than most pop trios today.” – YouTube commenter, 2024 upload

“Sondheim wrote a breakup song that makes me grin and wince at the same time—genius!” – Theatre blogger StageyDaze

“Every ‘doo-doo-doo’ is a dagger in Bobby’s inflated ego.” – Twitter user @BroadwayNerd

“Performed this in cabaret last night; crowd cackled then sighed—timeless.” – Reddit thread r/musicals

“Hearing that outdated slur today? Gasps from the balcony, then thoughtful silence. Theatre should do that.” – Reviewer, Chicago Tribune

Critics continually praise the number’s whiplash tonal control—sunny snap that camouflages cynicism. Fans latch onto the break-neck wordplay, while performers relish its tongue-twisting aerobics. Half a century later, the trio’s complaint still feels painfully, hilariously fresh.