Top 40 ‘Baby’ Songs of All Time

According to those who should know, people have used baby as a term of endearment for their significant others at least since the late 1600s -- long enough for most of us to not be creeped out by the practice of referring to other adults as we would infants. Of course, baby is not the only affectionate name lovers use – shout out to all those who answer to "Snookums," "Sweet Thang," "Boopsie," and "Howler Monkey" – but in a pinch, it is likely to be deemed most popular.

Songwriters and performers have used baby as the preferred term of endearment in popular music for generations, and there have been some truly awesome songs built with, if not around, one or more mentions of the word. Here are our top 40 all-time "baby" tracks:

40. The White Stripes, "The Big Three Killed My Baby"

It's the battle royale we witness every day – corporate behemoths vs. the powerless working stiffs – rendered as a distorted blues trying to pound its way out of your speaker cones. In this case, it's the "Big Three" auto makers (Ford, Chrysler and GM) working the singer's baby to death, for a pittance. The White Stripes would go on to make many more unholy rackets, but this one still feels special, not to mention relevant. Bonus points for rhyming "common sense" with "planned obsolescence."

39. Mungo Jerry, "Baby Jump"

A horny, bluesy howler with artsy literary references (D.H. Lawrence, Vladimir Nabokov) and a copiously sideburned singer in Ray Dorset likely looking to scare comely women into sleeping with him (the "baby, baby, baby" refrain in the chorus is a bit disconcerting). And this from the guy who gave us the carefree warm-weather anthem "In the Summertime" – who'da thunk it?

38. Elvis Presley, "Baby Let's Play House"

No one could hiccup "baby" quite like the King. Many have tried; all have failed.

37. J. Geils Band, "What's Your Hurry?"

One of the great unsung debut albums in all of rockdom, the first J. Geils Band platter sounded 15 years old when it came out in 1970. "What's Your Hurry?" (its chorus led off with three "baby"s) sounds like it could've been a Little Willie John cover, some mid-1950s Detroit jukebox favorite, but in reality, it was penned by Peter Wolf and Seth Justman, two East Coast kids who had mainlined such songs, welcomed them into their bloodstreams, so they could plausibly recreate them onstage and on records.

36. Prince & the Revolution, "Baby I'm a Star"

… in which the genius of Minneapolis works to convince his "baby" that he's not just good – he's really good. It speaks to that genius and the full-to-bursting quality of the Purple Rain album that this barn burner was an album cut and B-side, never released as a single.

35. Ramones, "Havana Affair"

Imagine, as did Joey Ramone, that the CIA needed to infiltrate Cuba, and hired as their guides four scruffy punks from Queens to show them around. And as these four scruffy punks from Queens showed the CIA around, they kept shouting a refrain, if not a rallying cry – "Baby, baby, make me loco! / Baby, baby make me mambo!" Can't imagine Jack Ryan or Jason Bourne putting up with that for very long, but it might've made for a decent movie.

34. Father John Misty, "Real Love Baby"

The clown prince of existential alternative folk rock ponders the imponderable origins of love in this dour age, and comes upon certain truths that only he seems to understand. "I'm the flower, you're the bee," he posits, "It's much older than you and me." You believe him, though, because he presents his thoughts so confidently. He has to know what he's talking about – doesn't he?

33. Frankie Valli & the Four Seasons, "Bye Bye Baby (Baby Goodbye)"

England Dan and John Ford Coley once sang "It's sad to belong to someone else when the right one comes along." Ten or so years before that, the Jersey Boys shared a similar sentiment – it's sad to be married to the love of your life when another love of your life appears out of nowhere. Valli does the right thing – saying "bye bye" to this new "baby" – but isn't very happy about it.

32. Jackson Browne, "Somebody's Baby"

We can't hear this one without seeing Ridgemont Mall, or following Jennifer Jason Leigh around as she and her classmates navigate the mores and vagaries of high school as the 1980s got underway. That such a sweet love song could come from the same imagination that yielded grim meditations like "For a Dancer," "The Fuse," and "Fountain of Sorrow" is surprising, but nonetheless lovely.

31. No Doubt, "Hey Baby"

So apparently the guys in No Doubt liked to party with groupies on their tour bus after shows, particularly in the lounge in the rear of the vehicle ("All the boys get the girls in the back"), and Gwen Stefani – the female quarter of the group – liked to watch. The details are scant (no mention of congress with mud sharks or snacking on candy bars inserted in nether regions), but some funky stuff was indeed going on, and it's very likely Stefani has blackmail material on her troupe that goes on for days. Instead of using it, though, she was a good sport and put it in a dancehall track that peaked in the Top 5.

30. Doors, "Been Down So Long"

The "baby" moment in this one comes about halfway through, in the third verse, when Jim Morrison, in his very best Howlin' Wolf voice, growls a plea to his woman to "get down on your knees." Perhaps he'd dropped his keys, or spilled a piece of a sandwich; he could be clumsy with such things. Regardless, he comes off as a man so desperate to hide his insecurities that he would bellow those directions at the object of his affection, as if she were indeed merely an object. That's a whole different kind of blues.

29. Cat Stevens, "Wild World"

Many have made bittersweet farewells to lovers, but this farewell comes with a dollop or two of trepidation ("Ooh, baby, baby, it's a wild world"), if not out-and-out condescension ("Don't be a bad girl", "I'll always remember you like a child"). But this is Cat Stevens, uber-earnest of the uberest-earnestest ‘70s singer-songwriters, so he largely gets a pass, if only because he sounds on the verge of tears throughout.

28. Jerry Butler, "I Dig You Baby"

Butler was in his mid-twenties when "I Dig You Baby" was a Top 10 R&B hit – right at that point in life when certain sentiments may seem laughable, like "digging" a person, getting "hung up on some new chick he meets," or saying aloud "The way you smile, oh, that's outta sight." Here, though, it doesn't much matter; Butler's smooth delivery makes up for most sins, and one has to believe that his "baby" would be more likely to swoon than to wonder whether she was being "dug" by a perpetual high schooler.

27. Ray Charles, "The Night Time is the Right Time"

Before there were such things as viral videos, there was the Huxtable family lip-synching to Ray Charles' version of this bluesy slow burner on The Cosby Show, complete with six-year-old Keshia Knight Pulliam miming Raelette Margie Hendrix's screams of "Baby!" On the record, these were cries of love – yearning, pleading, dare we say sinful. Coming out of a first grader, though, they were cute, comedic, even charming. Context is everything.

26. Dillard & Clark, "Why Not Your Baby"

This is a little-played wonder, released as a single in 1968 by former Byrd Gene Clark and ex-Dillards banjo player Doug Dillard around the same time as their debut album as a duo. Think Poco, Gram Parsons, the Stone Poneys, and, yes, the Byrds, and you'll have the right idea – country rock in its toddler years, before the Eagles went supernova, with prominent banjo and strings, and harmonies to die for. Heartbreak set to music.

25. Styx, "Babe"

In 1979, Styx was halfway through a string of triple-platinum albums and sold-out arena tours, playing cool songs that sounded like acid trips ("Come Sail Away"), philosophical treatises ("The Grand Illusion") or Wild West tales ("Renegade"). So what became their first, and only, No. 1 single? A mushy Hallmark card from singer Dennis DeYoung to his wife.

24. Justin Bieber, "Baby" 

Man, that kid was annoying, and this song was everywhere, an earworm even the most hardened anti-Belieber could not shake. Time, however, might mellow perspectives, and reveal "Baby" to be the uber-cool bubblegum bombshell the kiddies all said it was. We've all grown up a little, right? Right?

23. Bread, "Baby, I'm-a Want You"

This "baby" is all creamy ‘70s AM radio sweetness, a steaming bowl of proto-adult contemporary mush that, because it was released so early in the decade (1971), could lay claim to being among the first examples of that most disfavored of genres. Regardless of how well or poorly the song (and it's-a colloquial way of-a expressing its-a wanting) has aged, its popularity in its moment was undeniable.

22. Aretha Franklin, "Baby Baby Baby"

No one could wring anguish from a soul ballad quite like Aretha Franklin in her prime, and on 1967's I Never Loved a Man the Way I Love You, she is inarguably at her very best. "Baby Baby Baby" is an arrow to the heart, a tearjerking statement of regret, and it's largely overlooked, placed as it is at the end of the same side as "Respect," "Soul Serenade," and the album's title cut.

21. Badfinger, "Baby Blue"

Of all the songs the makers of Breaking Bad could have picked to cap off the final episode of the series, why this bittersweet bit of breakup poetry? Probably the first line – "I guess I got what I deserved" – which neatly sums up Walter White's end after five seasons, as well as it summed up the split singer Pete Ham and his girlfriend endured, which provided the inspiration for the song. Bonus points for recalling one of Bob Dylan's great early ballads, and anticipating a George Strait hit, some 15 years later.

20. Janis Joplin, "Cry Baby"

The jilted woman welcomes her erstwhile lover home, after he himself has been jilted. She's too kind, you might say. She should never take him back. If she didn't, though, we'd probably never hear her sing these words, in this manner, with all the heartwrenching sadness one human can muster.

19. James Brown, "I Got The Feelin'"

Brown barely keeps himself under control through the verses – indeed, he seems to be fighting himself at every turn, his spirit, his energy, his desire all push at what little restraint he has, kept on pace by the band, with its skitter-stepping rhythm section and air-stabbing horns. Twice, though, everything falls away, and Brown must gather himself, concentrating on a single word, repeated: "Baby, baby, baby / Baby, baby, baby / Baby, baby, baby / Baby, baby –" and then he jumps back into the verses once again.

18. Them, "Baby, Please Don't Go"

Van Morrison singing "BaypleezdongodownaNewOrleans No-ahluvyuhso Baypleezdongo" is one of the great slurring pleas in the history of Irish blues rock. It's a short history, true, but that's a great performance.

17. Traveling Wilburys, "She's My Baby"

Those who thought the Wilburys would spend time on their second record (Traveling Wilburys Vol. 3) mourning the passing of Lefty Wilbury (Roy Orbison) were sadly mistaken; after all, singing majestic sad songs was kinda Lefty's thing. The remaining quartet barrelled out of the gate with this glorious bit of nonsense – maybe the greatest tribute they could have paid their fallen brother. Or was it cousin?

16. Beach Boys, "Don't Worry Baby"

Brian Wilson attempts to write a Phil Spector song, with Ronnie Spector's voice in mind. He succeeds beyond anyone's wildest imagination.

15. Ronettes, "Be My Baby"

Phil Spector co-writes and produces a song, with Ronnie Spector's voice on the cut. It is an instant classic, and what's more, a very influential record, particularly six months later and about a mile away in Hollywood, where Brian Wilson and the Beach Boys were recording.

14. Eddie Money, "Baby Hold On"

Money allegedly quit his job as a cop in part because they wouldn't let him grow out his hair, so he turned in his badge, got a record deal and came out of the chute with this insistent blast of soulful pop. Bonus points for the breakdown after the fourth chorus, when Money testifies like a Baptist preacher. A long-haired Baptist preacher.

13. The Cult, "Love Removal Machine"

It happens at the beginning of the second verse – Cult singer Ian Astbury comes out of the chorus and a little guitar break with, "Baby, baby, baby, baby, baby / I fell from the sky." And the "baby"s just hang there, like a glider mid-flight, or Jordan taking off from the free throw line on his way to the basket, tongue out, gravity be damned. It's the best part of a great song, one that will close out the main set or the encore of every Cult show from tonight until the sky falls down with him.

12. Peter Frampton, "Baby I Love Your Way"

We all know the Frampton Comes Alive version, which was the hit, but go back to the version on the Frampton album from 1975, to hear its original presentation, segued from an instrumental track called "Nassau." Before all the hype and the sold-out stadium shows, when it was just the second cut on the album's second side. When it was just a cool, breezy tune.

11. Beatles, "Baby You're A Rich Man"

The Beatles were great at combining disparate sources and making awesome new songs out of them ("A Day in the Life," Side 2 of Abbey Road, etc.). "Baby You're a Rich Man" is one of those creations, and its infectious rhythm and psychedelic flourishes help embed it in the memory long after it fades out.

10. Britney Spears, "... Baby One More Time"

Early in the century, artists could show off their ironic-cover bona fides by performing and/or recording this utter masterwork of teen-pop bubblegum. Fountains of Wayne, Travis, and Bowling for Soup, among many others, took a crack at it, and extended their time in the pop-culture attention economy by a few minutes. None could touch the original, though, with its big production and come hither "baby baby" refrain, and Spears' "sexy schoolgirl" Halloween costume in the video.

9. Player, "Baby Come Back"

Player, Orleans, Firefall … so many of those late-'70s soft-rock AM-radio mewlers sounded so interchangeable, they might as well have been the same band. The difference was in their biggest hits – Orleans had "Still the One"; Firefall, "You are the Woman" – both great, both instantly recognizable.  Player, though, had "Baby Come Back," and no soft rock/yacht rock/easy listening cruise, festival, compilation, or karaoke night is complete without it.

8. Led Zeppelin, "Babe I'm Gonna Leave You"

The man Robert Plant voices on this, the second song on Side 1 of Led Zeppelin's debut record, might be a wandering, shamanistic spirit, who fulfills the desires of yon fair maiden, slaking her fleshly thirst before leaving like the wind, to where she will not know. Conversely, he may be a scoundrelly horndog, getting his own rocks off before chooglin' on down the road, likely to the next hockey arena stuffed with nubile groupies of the extremely willing variety. Which is it? It's up to you.

7. Smokey Robinson & the Miracles, "Ooo Baby Baby"

When Smokey Robinson sang a ballad, people spontaneously slow-danced in the street, songbirds stopped singing out of respect, and every bedroom light suddenly had a dimmer switch. "Ooo Baby Baby" is a plea for forgiveness, but if you're just listening to the melody, the tempo, and the sound of that voice, it could just as easily serve as an excuse to get close. Really close. Close enough to try out that new dimmer switch.

6. Little Richard, "Ooh My Soul"

If asked "What does carnal desire sound like?" one could do worse than play this 1958 barnburner, which finds the self-proclaimed "Architect of Rock ‘n' Roll" sweatily howling "Babybabybabybaby-baby / Don't you know my love is true?" followed by a trademark Woo! This should be our species' mating call, the sound that alerts our future alien (or AI) overlords "the humans want to attempt reproduction again."

5. Ted Nugent, "Hey, Baby"

Nugent's first solo album is an eardrum-melting blast of heavy blues, but this one is singer Derek St. Holmes' baby, so to speak – he wrote and arranged it, every wolf-whistlin, jive-talkin' word and note. Of course, it's Uncle Ted that conjures up that guitar solo in the middle of the thing, the one that says in bent notes and riffage everything St. Holmes just said, only cooler.

4. The Supremes, "Where Did Our Love Go"

We count 67 "baby"s in this Motown classic, an impressive number for any song, much less one that clocks in at 2:30. The cumulative effect of all that "baby" talk is palpable. Yes, she hurts so bad, knowing her man is about to bolt from her, but the tone of her pleading is more of a warning – of what he will miss when they are forever parted. By the sound of it, he'll miss a lot.

3. Devo, "(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction"

We'd tell you how many times Mark Mothersbaugh and his nerd platoon repeat the word baby two-thirds of the way through this blippy, jagged, too-cool Stones cover, but we have no idea – the echo in the middle of the repetitive "baby" burst keeps us from distinguishing one "baby" from another.

2. Carpenters, "Superstar"

This 1971 Leon Russell/Bonnie Bramlett-penned hit put the easy in easy listening and could have been titled "Baby," had either co-writer been so moved, because the word appears seven times in each chorus, including five in the third line ("Baby, baby, baby, baby, oh baby"). And while Karen Carpenter's voice is the one most often associated with it, everyone from Bette Midler to Sonic Youth has covered it, put their own stamp on it, made their own babyfest out of it.

1. John Lee Hooker, "Baby Baby"

It sounds improvised (and it may well have been), like the pleas of a man who just found out he's in for a world of pain, a world of heartache, the hell of knowing she's about to walk out, never to return. Yeah, she treats him bad – it's a lowdown, dirty shame – but maybe if he implores her enough, if he calls her "baby" enough times, it'll soften that hard heart of hers, and she'll stay, and maybe even be nicer to him, love him, just a little bit. Yeah, it sounds improvised, but some of the best blues songs are great because of their immediacy, the zero seconds between feeling and expression, even if the expression is straight-up groveling.  Nobody sounded as cool groveling as John Lee Hooker did.