The 1972 hard-rock anomaly that used the roar of a gas-guzzling car as an unlikely alarm bell against pollution.
In the tapestry of 1970s pop culture, few images are more fixed than that of The Osmonds: the dazzling smiles, the matching outfits, the saccharine harmonies, and the clean-cut wholesome image that made them the quintessential boy band of their era. Yet, tucked into that meticulously crafted persona is a raw, electric, and utterly unexpected track that serves as a thrilling anomaly in their catalogue. This is the story of “Crazy Horses,” a song that not only shattered the group’s bubblegum reputation but did so with the kind of heavy-rock swagger that earned grudging respect from headbangers everywhere.
Released in 1972, the single quickly proved it was anything but a typical pop ditty. It roared up the charts, landing at a respectable number 14 on the US Billboard Hot 100 and achieving true international success by peaking at a staggering number 2 on the UK Singles Chart. Furthermore, it hit the number one spot in several European countries, including France and the Netherlands, cementing its status as a major global hit. This success was vital, as it gave the brothers the leverage to break from the polished sound dictated by their record company.
The True Meaning Behind the Rock Riff
The story behind “Crazy Horses” is one of rebellion and genuine artistic evolution. For years, the brothers—Alan, Wayne, Merrill, Jay, and Donny—had been yearning to ditch the pre-packaged hits and play the music they were truly listening to: the heavier sounds of groups like Led Zeppelin and Deep Purple. They took matters into their own hands, writing and producing the song themselves for the album of the same name.
One day, during a rehearsal in their basement, Wayne Osmond started playing a ferocious, blues-infused guitar riff. The sound immediately took hold, and the entire structure of the song—built around a driving, almost proto-metal energy—came together in less than an hour. Crucially, the song is driven by a truly unique and jarring sonic element: the high-pitched, wailing “neigh” sound that pierces the mix. This was created by Donny Osmond coaxing the bizarre noise from a Yamaha YC45D combo organ, a piece of studio wizardry that gave the track its immediate, recognizable, and frankly crazy identity.
The controversial lyric at the heart of the song—”What a show, there they go, smokin’ up the sky / Crazy horses all got riders, and they’re you and I”—was widely misinterpreted upon release. Due to the phrase “smokin’ up the sky,” the track was banned in several countries, including France and South Africa, as authorities mistakenly believed it promoted drug use. However, the true meaning was far more grounded and, in retrospect, surprisingly prescient: it was an early environmental anthem. The “crazy horses” are not stallions running wild, but rather a direct allegory for the powerful, gas-guzzling automobiles whose “horsepower” was polluting the atmosphere with thick, black exhaust fumes. The album cover itself, shot in a junkyard surrounded by discarded cars, visually reinforces this message.
This was an anthem of ecological consciousness masquerading as a hard-rock freak-out, a warning from the seemingly most unlikely source. For many older readers who recall the shock of hearing that opening organ wail and Jay Osmond’s gravelly lead vocal—a departure from Merrill’s usual pitch—it represents the moment the music world shifted. The Osmonds proved they were talented musicians, not just puppets of the pop machine, and in doing so, they created a track that remains an enduring, influential, and refreshingly loud piece of rock and roll history.