The Top Music Acts You’ve Been Mispronouncing

Back when radio ruled the airwaves, mispronouncing a band’s name was almost impossible. DJs made sure listeners heard the names loud and clear before spinning a track, leaving little room for error. It was part of the charm of discovering new acts—hearing not only the music but the proper way to say who was behind it.

Fast forward to the streaming era, and things aren’t so straightforward. With millions of songs available at the tap of a screen, people often stumble across new bands by reading their names instead of hearing them spoken aloud. That leaves plenty of room for missteps, especially when spelling, accents, or wordplay come into the mix.

The result? A surprising number of artists have names that get twisted, mangled, or just plain misunderstood by fans. Don’t worry if you’ve been getting it wrong—chances are you’re not alone. The following list clears up some of the most common offenders and will have you pronouncing your favorite acts with confidence.

Haim

If you’ve been saying “hame” like Corey Haim, or stretching it into “hime” like you’re halfway to a Heimlich maneuver, you’ve been doing it wrong. The sister trio’s last name is Haim, and it’s pronounced “hy-uhm.” Simple once you hear it, maddening until you do.

The trick? Think of the toast l’chaim and just use the last two syllables. Once that clicks, you can brag that you’ve been pronouncing their name correctly since their breakout single “The Wire.” Bonus: you now have a great party trick for shutting down music snobs.

Gotye

It looks like “got-ya” and some people swear it’s “goat-yeah,” but the actual pronunciation is “go-tee-ay.” The singer himself picked the name as a nod to designer Jean Paul Gaultier, only with the spelling tossed into a blender.

It all goes back to his real name, Wouter, which is the Belgian version of Walter. Translate that into French, twist the spelling, and voilà: Gotye. Complicated? Yes. Pretentious? Maybe. But at least you’ll never again call him Goat-Yeah at karaoke.

Bon Iver

Meet the most commonly butchered indie name of the 2000s. It’s not “bawn eye-ver” — it’s “bone ee-vair.” Frontman Justin Vernon pulled it from the French phrase bon hiver (“good winter”), but dropped the “h” because it reminded him of “liver.” (He was sick with mono at the time, so you can’t really blame him.)

So what you get is a name that looks French, isn’t quite French, and makes people second-guess themselves before saying it out loud. Don’t worry — you’re not alone. Even diehard fans stumble over it. Now you can at least fake confidence.

!!!

This one’s less a band name and more a dare. Officially, you’re supposed to click your tongue three times. Most people settle for “chick chick chick,” which the band says is fine. Honestly, anything’s better than just standing there silently pointing at punctuation.

The name came from subtitles in the film The Gods Must Be Crazy, where clicks were written as exclamation marks. It’s clever, but also terrible for Googling. Type “!!!” into a search bar and see how far you get. Hint: not very.

Die Antwoord

South Africa’s strangest rap-rave duo didn’t overthink their name. “Die Antwoord” just means “the answer” in Afrikaans. The correct pronunciation is “dee ant-werd.” Not “die ant-verd.” Not “dee ant-word.” Just… “dee ant-werd.”

Of course, straightforward pronunciation is about the only simple thing here. The duo also insists on describing themselves as a “futuristik flame-throw-flow freeking zef rap-rave krew,” which sounds like a dare from a random band name generator. Best to just get the basics right and move on.

MSTRKRFT

At first listen, “Hey Sandy” sounds like a dreamy slice of ‘90s indie rock nostalgia, immortalized as the theme for Nickelodeon’s quirky series The Adventures of Pete & Pete. Its jangly guitars and hazy lyrics conjure the carefree spirit of childhood summers, a vibe that made it seem tailor-made for kids. Yet hidden in the mumbled delivery of singer Mark Mulcahy is a far darker reference than its audience ever suspected.

Toro Y Moi

This stage name starts out Spanish with “Toro” (bull) and “Y” (and), then takes a detour into French with “Moi” (me). Put it together and you get “toro ee mwah,” not “toro why moo-ee,” unless you’re trying to start a support group for cows.

The origin story? Chaz Bundick admits he made it up in the car as a teenager and just ran with it. Proof that even the most random teenage brainwave can end up headlining festivals.

Sigur Rós

This Icelandic band didn’t invent an unpronounceable word just to mess with you — they simply borrowed the name of the singer’s little sister, Sigurrós. The trick is in the delivery: it’s closer to “ciggar rose,” not “Seger Ross.” So yes, all those years you pictured Bob Seger jamming with Ross from Friends were a lie.

And if you’re still not convinced? The band themselves have an audio guide on their site, because apparently even they know how badly we mangle it. Do yourself a favor and check it out before your next pretentious post-rock listening party.

Lykke Li

The spelling tricks a lot of people into reading it as “Likely,” which would honestly make for a solid indie-pop stage name. The actual pronunciation, though, is “Licky Lee,” which sounds less artsy and more like a playground insult — but somehow works once you know it’s right.

And really, this is the easy version. Her full name is Li Lykke Timotej Zachrisson, which would probably make Ryan Seacrest quit mid-introduction. Suddenly “Lykke Li” doesn’t feel so bad.

Sufjan Stevens

Fans argue endlessly about Sufjan’s music, but one thing they agree on is how to say his name: “Soof-yawn.” The “yawn” part is key. Whether you use it as a mnemonic or a built-in joke, it’s the easiest way to remember.

Less easy? The fact that his 2010 album The Age of Adz is pronounced “Age of Odds.” Why? Because apparently musicians love making pronunciation a second full-time job for their fans. Thanks, Soof-yawn.

deadmau5

ou’ve seen the big mouse helmet. You’ve seen the “5.” And yet, people still say “dead mau five.” No — it’s “dead mouse,” plain and simple. The 5 is just leetspeak for “S,” because this was the mid-2000s and that kind of thing was considered cool.

The story behind it? He found a dead mouse in his computer, shrugged, and made it his whole identity. Not every great name has to be profound. Sometimes it’s just roadkill in your hard drive.

Sade

This one’s been tripping people up for decades. It’s not “sayd,” not “sah-dee,” and definitely not “shade.” It’s “shah-DAY.” Simple, elegant, and — once you know it — impossible to forget.

The name comes from the group’s singer, Helen Folasade Adu, who shortened her middle name to Sade. So technically the band and the woman are the same name, but when the music sounds that smooth, nobody’s going to complain.

Chvrches

The Roman “V” trick seemed genius at the time: swap out the U for a V so Google wouldn’t confuse them with, you know, actual churches. Smart move — type “Chvrches” into a search bar and you’ll find the band instantly. Type “churches,” and you’ll be scrolling past cathedrals and Bible verses before you ever get to synthpop.

Of course, this clever branding came with one small problem: people constantly asking how to say it. Here’s the answer — it’s just “Churches.” No “chuh-vur-ches,” no buzzing V sound. A U is a V now. Welcome to Chvrchland.

Alvvays

This Canadian dream-pop group didn’t go vowel-weird for Google hacks — they did it because another band had already snagged “Always.” The double V was the workaround, and honestly, it turned out to be cooler anyway. Search “Alvvays” and you’ll actually get the band instead of Hallmark slogans.

Pronunciation-wise, though, it’s painfully simple: just “Always.” If you’ve been flexing some fancy “Alv-vays” take, you’ve been wrong the whole time. Sometimes the obvious answer really is the right one.

Yngwie Malmsteen

This one has terrorized metal fans for decades. It’s not “Ing-wee.” It’s not “Yah-way.” It’s not even close to “Ying-why.” The correct way to say the Swedish shredder’s name is “ING-vay Mahlm-steen.” Think of it like this: nobody shreds as eff-ING hard as ING-vay.

Once you’ve got that down, you can focus on the real challenge: trying to play even two notes from one of his solos without your hands catching fire. Spoiler: you can’t. But at least you’ll sound smart when you pronounce it right.

Rihanna

The pop queen herself has said it a million times, and yet people still botch it. It’s “Re-ANNA,” with the emphasis on Anna, not “Re-AWN-a.” Simple, right? Right.

Of course, this is the same woman who made “umbrella” sound like “ella-ella-eh-eh-eh” forever, so maybe pronunciation rules are just different in Rihanna’s world. Still, if she says “Re-ANNA,” you say “Re-ANNA.” End of discussion.

Macklemore

It looks like “Mackel-more,” but the correct way is “Mack-luh-more.” The name dates back to a high school art class when Ben Haggerty created a superhero called Professor Macklemore. Because nothing screams “rap legend in the making” like a doodle assignment.

Eventually he dropped the “Professor” part after realizing it was kind of lame. Honestly, fair call — though it does make you wonder how long it’ll take before that haircut gets the same treatment.

Sleater-Kinney

The name comes from Sleater-Kinney Road in Washington, but the pronunciation throws people constantly. It’s “Slay-ter Kinney,” not “Sleet-er” anything, and definitely not “Kin-nay.”

Here’s an easy hack: think of A.C. Slater from Saved by the Bell and imagine him joining a feminist punk band. Now you’ll never say it wrong again. Bayside forever.

Rae Sremmurd

The name might sound like some forgotten blues guitarist, but it’s actually just “Ear Drummers” spelled backward. Clever, if slightly headache-inducing once you try to puzzle it out.

Pronounced “Ray Srim-merd,” it has the vibe of a guy selling you discount condos on FM radio, yet somehow the duo used it to top the charts with “Black Beatles.” Proof that cool music can survive even the dorkiest-sounding names.

Hüsker Dü

The legend goes like this: the band was covering Talking Heads’ “Psycho Killer” but couldn’t remember the French gibberish in the chorus, so they started tossing around random foreign words. Someone shouted “Hüsker Dü” — the name of a Swedish board game that was oddly popular in Minnesota at the time — and boom, the name stuck.

Of course, they slapped on some ironic metal umlauts because that’s just what you did in the ’80s. It’s pronounced “Hoosker Doo,” which sounds less like a groundbreaking punk band and more like a rejected Hanna-Barbera side character.

MGMT

MGMT is short for “Management,” which was literally their original name before legal red tape forced a rebrand. The acronym stuck, probably because it looks cooler on a festival poster than the word “Management,” which makes you think of tax audits.

Whatever you do, don’t call them “Management” out loud. The correct way is to just spell it: “Em Gee Em Tee.” That’s it. Save the brainpower for trying to figure out what on earth is going on in the “Kids” music video.

PVRIS

Back when they were still playing metalcore in Massachusetts, this band went by Paris. But apparently, one of the guys from Fleetwood Mac had a side project with the same name, and lawyers don’t like that kind of thing. So they swapped the A for a V, and PVRIS was born.

Here’s the catch: you still pronounce it “Paris.” No “Puh-verr-iss,” no weird attempts at being fancy. Just Paris. Same name, slightly more goth font. Problem solved.