“Believe” by Cher is an iconic late 1990s pop and club anthem, most notable for its pioneering use of Autotune, which created an almost distorted, melodic, and computerized sound that paved the way for many artists of today, such as T-Pain, Daft Punk, and Travis Scott, among others.
The song’s lyrical content dives much deeper emotionally than most dance club pop hits of any era. It tells a story of heartache and the difficulty in climbing out of that pit of depression, but it also fills us with the hope that we are able to do so.
The lead single from Cher’s 22nd studio album, also titled “Believe,” was a departure from Cher’s usual sound, yet ironically, it would become the song she is most known for today.
The upbeat electro-pop single was written by a group of four writers and circulated around Warner Bros. for months. Most of the execs only thought the chorus was worthwhile, so they had Dreamhouse Productions reshape the song into a dance hit, in hopes it wouldn’t alienate Cher’s fanbase.
The new version of the song was then given to two other writers, Steve Torch and Paul Berry, to put the finishing touches on it, to which Cher and Warner Brothers Chairman Rob Dickens gave the final “okay.”
Cher would adjust the lyrics of the second verse to give the character singing the song a stronger resolve, calling the previous version “too whiny” and, in a Cher-like fashion, saying it needed to be toughened up.
Its use of autotune also changed the trajectory of pop music forever. Today, autotune is so widely and openly used that hardly anyone would bat an eyelash at it, but in 1998, its use was groundbreaking.
Dubbed the “Cher effect”, the technology enabled artists to drastically pitch-shift vocal melodies, breaking them up into a futuristic, almost robot sung sound, and not only to correct sour notes sung in the studio. Although the song is a huge, upbeat dance anthem, its lyrics give an underlying feel that is both downtrodden at first and eventually uplifting in its resolve.
The central figure laments being emotionally held down by a romantic partner, only to reclaim their power during the second verse, bridge, and into the song’s ending.
The context of each chorus’s meaning is reshaped by the tone of each verse. The first verse expresses exhaustion and sadness due to the predicament the character is in, while the second verse almost suggests an epiphany that it’s time to regain strength and reclaim their self-worth. It’s an empowering anthem that can be applied widely, to say the absolute least.
We travel through 20 years of the song being played at parties, dance clubs, in bedrooms, and on solo, heartbroken car rides home. We arrive at the 41st Kennedy Center Honors, where, you guessed it, Cher is being honored by a theater filled with adoring celebrity fans. Silence settles over the audience as the curtains rise on Adam Lambert taking the stage.
The first piano chords strike as Adam solemnly eases into the first lines: “No matter how hard I try, you keep pushing me aside and I can’t break through…” We’re hooked, waiting with bated breath for the next lines, as Adam’s angelic voice, free of that famous “Cher effect” auto-tune, tells us the story.
This isn’t the dance hit we expect. Adam’s version is a heart-wrenching ballad, backed by simple piano and sparse string arrangements as it builds. By the first chorus, the camera cuts to the audience; tears are already welling up in the eyes of many attendees.
The second verse begins, and the piano rhythm grows slightly more upbeat. Adam removes an in-ear monitor; his expression shifts from one of heartbreak and melancholy to a subtle, sideways grin. He starts coming back to life after a period of mourning and sadness. The strings return.
They do not abandon sadness but are building and beautiful. A simple, steady electronic beat now lets listeners nod their heads, perhaps even start to rock gently to the music. Hope builds as the second chorus overtakes the sadness of the first.
Cutting back to the audience, we see bodies swaying, mouths singing along, and finally, Cher up in the balcony, the ghost of a smile hovering on her lips. Adam belts out the last chorus words and then abruptly softens into the bridge.
The piano gives him all the space in the world to deliver the simple lines, telling us that we’ll get through this, we’re strong, and we don’t need the one who caused such heartbreak anymore, before blasting into the final, massive chorus. Not a dry eye in the house. A shot of Cher dabbing a finger at one eye, as the song comes to its hugely climactic ending, Cher shoots up to start a full standing ovation.
It’s hard not to feel the weight of the emotion in that room as the audience roars in applause. Rightfully so, this performance has received tens of millions of views since it was first uploaded six years ago.
It is hard to believe one of the best-selling singles in music history could be reshaped and molded into an emotional rollercoaster that brought tears to Cher’s eyes. It could easily replace the original for some to blast on a solo, heartbroken drive home.