An Enduring Question of Teenage Heartbreak and Self-Doubt
The 1970s, a decade often recalled through a haze of bell-bottoms and disco lights, was also a prime era for earnest, harmony-driven pop. Amidst the rising tide of glam rock and singer-songwriters, few acts embodied the clean-cut, wholesome essence of American youth quite like The Osmonds. While they’d already found phenomenal success with bubblegum hits like “One Bad Apple” and the heavier rocker “Crazy Horses,” it was the 1973 single, “What Could It Be?,” that offered a raw, introspective glimpse into the vulnerability lurking beneath the polished surface.
Released as the second single from their sixth studio album, The Plan, “What Could It Be?” didn’t dominate the airwaves in the same chart-blazing fashion as their previous efforts. In fact, it stalled just outside the upper reaches, peaking at a respectable, though slightly disappointing, number 48 on the Billboard Hot 100 chart in the United States. For a group that had seemingly guaranteed top-ten placement, this result was perhaps an early indicator of the shifting musical landscape and the difficulty of maintaining commercial momentum across diverse genres. Yet, the song’s moderate chart performance belies its deeper emotional resonance and its significance within the broader context of The Osmonds’ ambitious career arc.
The single’s parent album, The Osmonds‘ bold 1973 concept album \textit{The Plan}, was itself a fascinating and, frankly, daring project. It was conceived by the eldest brother, Alan Osmond, as a musical exploration of the tenets of their Mormon faith, touching on themes of life’s purpose, the struggle between good and evil, and the journey of the soul. In this spiritual framework, “What Could It Be?” served as a poignant, universally accessible piece of the puzzle. While the album contained grand, sprawling compositions, this particular track brought the focus down to the deeply personal. It’s essentially a lament of youthful insecurity, a heart-aching narrative of a boy utterly bewildered by the sudden coldness of a girl he clearly adores.
The story behind the song is beautifully simple and incredibly relatable. It’s not about grand betrayal or dramatic confrontation; it’s about the silent, confusing shift in a teenage relationship—the moment when a girl who was once warm and welcoming suddenly becomes distant and withdrawn. The lyrics, sung with a palpable ache by Merrill Osmond, capture the torturous self-questioning that follows: “Now I call you on the phone, you say you’re not at home, and I know that you are / You leave me on the line, you say that you’re just fine, but I know that you are not.” The repeated, almost desperate plea, “What Could It Be?,” is the core of the song’s meaning. It gives voice to that universal, sickening feeling of being ghosted before ‘ghosting’ was a word—the adolescent agony of trying to find a logical reason for an illogical change of heart. Is it something he said? Something he didn’t do? The ambiguity is precisely what makes the song so potent, turning a specific heartbreak into a metaphor for any moment of profound self-doubt.
For those of us who came of age listening to AM radio in the early ’70s, this song—along with tracks like “Puppy Love” from Donny Osmond—served as the gentle, musical blueprint for navigating first heartbreak. It wasn’t the cynical, detached music that would characterize the punk era, nor the saccharine sweetness of pure bubblegum; it was earnest, well-crafted pop that offered a shoulder to cry on. It’s a testament to the band’s songwriting maturity that they could transition from hard rock and upbeat pop to a concept album, yet still produce a standalone single that cut straight to the emotional core of their young audience. “What Could It Be?” remains a wistful, reflective entry in The Osmonds‘ impressive catalog, reminding us all that sometimes, the most profound questions in life are the ones we ask ourselves in the quiet solitude of teenage uncertainty.