Greetings and salutations Hivers. Today let’s go into another Three Tune Tuesday post.

As always, thanks to @ablaze for making this series. Lots of people participate in it! Follow the tags to find a ton of good music recommendation.

Today… more Schoolhouse Rock!

Last time, I wrote about how Schoolhouse Rock helped make learning a little more fun in the minds of a generation. I included a few songs that were a little off the beaten path. But then I got to thinking: most people reading my post aren’t from America and wouldn’t have been exposed to the top hits as many times as I and my generation were, so I thought we’d do a sequel post highlighting those.

Three Is the Magic Number

We’ll start with the one that started it all.

“Three Is the Magic Number” was the pilot that kicked off the entire Schoolhouse Rock series back in 1973. Sung by Bob Dorough with that jazz-folk charm of his, it’s warm, mellow, and oddly profound for a song ostensibly about multiplication.

This wasn’t just about math facts — it was a meditation. There’s a kind of numerological mysticism to it. It’s no accident that it begins with the family unit and ends with the Holy Trinity. It’s structured to make you feel that three really is magic. And as a kid, I believed it. Heck, I still kind of do.

If I had to pick one song from the entire series that best represents the tone of Schoolhouse Rock, it might be this one. It’s educational, yes, but also soulful. Bob Dorough wasn’t phoning it in. He made math beautiful.

Years later, Blind Melon would cover the song and bring a bit more of a rock sound to it. Check that one out here.

The Shot Heard ’Round the World

If “Three Is the Magic Number” is contemplative, “The Shot Heard ’Round the World” is kinetic. The pacing, the galloping rhythm — this thing moves.

You couldn’t help but feel the tension, even as a kid. This was history as drama, with names and places like Concord, Lexington, and Bunker Hill charged with mythic energy. The animation reinforced that — soldiers marching in silhouette, smoke and musket fire, the ghost of revolution forming in watercolor.

Yes, it’s simplified. It’s kind of silly. But that’s the point: it gave kids structure — a timeline, a mood, a map of early America soaked in courage and colonial grit. And just that classic line in song form “Hold your fire till you see the white of their eyes”. Goosebumps. From there, we could read more, build on it. But without that musical frame, many of us wouldn’t have remembered who Paul Revere even was.

And again, for the Schoolhouse Rock! Rocks album that came out in the 90s, Ween covered it, making it less of a kids song and more of a rock song. Unfortunately this seems to be the one song from that album not available on YouTube in the original form. But here’s one with the background music striped and just the voices (probably to avoid being taken down). Not the same but it’ll give you an idea: Click here.

Conjunction Junction

With its bluesy rhythm and freight-train metaphors, this one cemented its place in pop culture — and in our understanding of grammar. Conjunctions are dull on the page, but give them a rail yard and a smokestack, and suddenly they’re alive.

Jack Sheldon brought swing, sass, and a touch of jazzman cool. And who else could’ve made “but,” “and,” and “or” sound like the names of backup singers?

And a much more rocking version from Better Than Ezra: Listen here.

What a great show. It didn’t talk down. It didn’t condescend. It believed kids could appreciate jazz chords and historical nuance — could follow complex ideas if those ideas were delivered with rhythm, melody, and care.

I don’t think it’s nostalgia to say it was better than most of what we get now. And yes, I’ve shown these to my own kids. They liked them.

So what’s your favorite?