Come On Let’s Go — when rock ’n’ roll memory dances back into the present with youthful joy
Few songs manage to feel both timeless and joyfully alive like “Come On Let’s Go” in the hands of Showaddywaddy. From the very first handclap and shout, the song doesn’t simply play — it moves. It carries the listener back to an era when rock ’n’ roll was innocent, communal, and bursting with simple excitement. Released in 1976, “Come On Let’s Go” became one of the defining moments of Showaddywaddy’s career, reaching No. 2 on the UK Singles Chart, and cementing the group’s role as guardians of early rock ’n’ roll spirit in a rapidly changing musical world.
Originally written and recorded in 1958 by Ritchie Valens, the song was already a classic long before Showaddywaddy touched it. Valens’ version was youthful, urgent, and full of promise — the sound of a teenager calling out to the world with open arms. Nearly two decades later, Showaddywaddy didn’t try to modernize it beyond recognition. Instead, they honored its soul. Their version is faster, punchier, built for stomping feet and smiling faces, but it never loses that essential feeling of invitation: come on, let’s go — together.
By the mid-1970s, popular music was fragmenting. Glam rock glittered, progressive rock sprawled, disco was beginning its rise. In the middle of all that, Showaddywaddy stood out by looking backward — not with irony, but with affection. Formed in Leicester, the group built their identity on celebrating the sounds of the 1950s and early 1960s: doo-wop harmonies, rockabilly rhythms, sharp suits, and an infectious sense of fun. “Come On Let’s Go” was the perfect vehicle for that mission.
The success of the single was no accident. It arrived at a moment when listeners were hungry for familiarity and warmth — music that didn’t demand explanation, only participation. When the song climbed to No. 2 in the UK charts, it wasn’t just a commercial triumph; it was a cultural one. It proved that the early language of rock ’n’ roll still spoke clearly, still made hearts beat faster, still made people want to dance.
What gives Showaddywaddy’s version its lasting charm is the sense of shared joy. The call-and-response vocals feel like a conversation rather than a performance. The handclaps sound like they could be coming from the room you’re sitting in. There’s no distance between band and listener — only momentum. The song doesn’t ask for introspection; it asks for movement. And sometimes, that is exactly what the soul needs.
Yet beneath the exuberance lies something quietly touching. For those who remember earlier decades, “Come On Let’s Go” becomes more than a dance number. It’s a reminder of first parties, first loves, jukeboxes glowing in dim corners, laughter spilling out into the night. Even for those who encountered the song for the first time in the 1970s, it carried echoes of an earlier innocence — a musical inheritance passed down and lovingly preserved.
In this way, Showaddywaddy did more than score a hit. They acted as storytellers of sound, bridging generations without ever sounding forced or nostalgic for nostalgia’s sake. Their “Come On Let’s Go” doesn’t mourn the past — it celebrates it, keeps it moving, keeps it alive.
Nearly fifty years on, the song still does what it has always done best. It invites. It unites. It reminds us that sometimes the greatest joy in music isn’t found in complexity, but in a simple, irresistible call — come on, let’s go — and the shared memory of answering it together.