Hair Lyrics – Hair

Song Overview

The title-track of Hair: The American Tribal Love-Rock Musical lands like a technicolor manifesto. A swirl of fuzz-guitar, horn stabs, and chanted harmonies, it turns something as everyday as a haircut into a peace sign the size of Times Square. Claude hoists the banner first, Berger barges in second, and before long the whole Tribe is chanting a follicular hallelujah so infectious even your straight-laced aunt might consider skipping Supercuts.

Song Credits

• Featured Performers: Claude, Berger & The Tribe
• Producer: Andy Wiswell
• Composer: Galt MacDermot
• Lyricists: James Rado, Gerome Ragni
• Release Date: 1968
• Album: Hair: The American Tribal Love-Rock Musical — Track 15
• Genre: Rock / Psychedelic Show-tune
• Length: 2 minutes 55 seconds
• Label: RCA Victor
• Studio: RCA Victor Studios, New York City
• Mood: Exuberant, rebellious, winkingly devotional
• Languages: English
• Instruments: Electric guitar, bass, drum kit, Hammond organ, brass section, tambourine, hand-claps
• Copyright © 1968 by the authors and RCA Records

Song Meaning and Annotations

First things first: hair is never just hair. In the late-sixties, letting it grow signaled resistance to draft boards, Mad Men dress codes, and the parental cry of “When are you getting a real job?” The song crackles with that spirit. Under MacDermot’s Hammond-drenched groove, Claude boasts he’s “hairy noon and night,” framing every strand as a banner of autonomy. Berger doubles the dare, and by the time the Tribe howls the refrain, the track has morphed into a gospel of follicles.

Musically, “Hair” marries Broadway polish to garage-band grit. Verses lope on a laid-back backbeat; choruses blaze with brass and fuzz guitar; a tongue-in-cheek quote of “The Star-Spangled Banner” lands like psychedelic confetti. The emotional arc flips from playful brag to near-religious ecstasy—“My hair like Jesus wore it, Hallelujah!”—folding the sacred into the satiric without missing the downbeat.

Verse 1

“She asks me why / I’m just a hairy guy”

Claude shrugs off conformity from line one. The question “why” hangs unanswered—because in this counterculture, explanation feels square.

Chorus

“Give me a head with hair / Long, beautiful hair / Shining, gleaming, steaming, flaxen, waxen”

MacDermot’s grocery-list melody turns adjectives into a rhythmic engine. Those sensory words—shining, steaming—make hair almost edible, a pleasure you can smell from the balcony.

Bridge

“Oh say, can you see my eyes, if you can / Then my hair’s too short”

A parody of the U.S. anthem flips patriotism on its head: true freedom, the Tribe implies, starts at the scalp.

Outro

Repeated chants of “Hair” spiral into ecstatic release. The arrangement fades like a street-corner protest drifting down Eighth Avenue—joyful, messy, unstoppable.

Similar Songs

1. “Almost Cut My Hair” – Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young (1970)
   Both tracks treat locks as liberty. CSNY’s Neil Young leans into ragged guitar and personal doubt—he almost capitulates—while Hair shouts refusal in technicolor. The mood differs (anguished vs. celebratory) but the question—how much of identity lives in keratin?—shines through each riff.
2. “San Francisco (Be Sure to Wear Flowers in Your Hair)” – Scott McKenzie (1967)
   McKenzie’s folk-pop invitation and the Broadway belter share a peace-and-love nucleus. Where “Hair” uses rock horns and comedic flair, “San Francisco” opts for gentle strumming. Both, however, turned hairstyles and flora into portable banners of the counterculture.
3. “Let the Sunshine In” – Original Broadway Cast of Hair (1968)
   From the same score, this finale complements “Hair” like dawn after a night-long protest. If the title track raises fists (and follicles), “Sunshine” opens arms, its gospel chord progression suggesting communal healing. Together they map the emotional spectrum of the show: from swagger to spiritual release.

Questions and Answers

Why was long hair such a flash-point in 1968?

Because it crossed generational and political lines in a single shaggy swoop. To many boomers, flowing hair shouted anti-war, anti-establishment, pro-freedom; to parents and draft boards, it shouted “unruly.” The song milks that tension for every comedic and dramatic watt.

Is “Hair” mocking religion or celebrating it?

Both, cheekily. The hymn-like structure and “Hallelujah” refrains borrow devotional language, but the object of worship is decidedly earthly. It’s satire with a smile, suggesting sacredness lives in self-expression.

What makes MacDermot’s score feel so fresh even today?

The blend of Broadway craft and street-band spontaneity. Syncopated horns, funky grooves, and call-and-response vocals anticipate 70s soul while keeping the show-tune spine intact.

Did the cast album really top the pop charts?

Yes—Hair hit No. 1 on the Billboard 200 in 1969, the last Broadway recording to do so, underscoring how deeply its messages and hooks penetrated mainstream radio.

How has the number aged onstage?

Modern revivals often keep the original arrangement but update choreography and costume palettes. The core statement—bodily autonomy—remains evergreen, so every generation finds its own spin while the chorus stays gloriously untamed.

Awards and Chart Positions

• Hair original Broadway cast album — No. 1 on Billboard 200 for 13 weeks (1969)
• Grammy Award 1969: Best Score from an Original Cast Show Album
• Single versions: The Cowsills’ cover hit No. 1 on Cash Box Top 100 and No. 2 on Billboard Hot 100 (1969)
• Library of Congress National Recording Registry induction (2019) for the full cast album

Fan and Media Reactions

“Hearing that brassy intro still makes me want to ditch my tie and grow a mane.” —1970s radio DJ reminiscing on an FM retrospective

“It’s impossible to sit still; every ‘Hair’ reprise feels like a revolution you can dance to.” —Broadway revival attendee, 2011

“My mom played the cast LP until the sleeve split. Now my daughter hums it on TikTok. That’s staying power.” —Multi-generational fan comment

“MacDermot’s chord changes are deceptively sophisticated—funky enough for Santana, tight enough for Sondheim.” —Music critic, Stage & Sound

“When Berger shouts ‘Here, baby, there, mama,’ the whole theatre becomes a commune.” —YouTube viewer on the 2009 revival clip