This 1965 “Unchained Melody” Performance Still Gives People Goosebumps

Some TV moments don’t fade, they stick. Bobby Hatfield stepping into the spotlight in 1965 is one of those moments, the kind that makes a room go quiet and then erupt.

The performance comes from NBC-TV’s The Andy Williams Show, right when “Unchained Melody” was lighting up the Top 40, and it captures the Righteous Brothers at peak power, charm, and heart.

The Righteous Brothers were a duo made up of Bill Medley and Bobby Hatfield, two singers with very different strengths that fit together perfectly. Medley is the tall, dark-haired singer with a bass-baritone voice, the kind that can sound steady and thunderous at the same time. Hatfield is the one with the sky-high reach and the ability to turn a single line into a full-body feeling.

Together, they created the blend that helped define what came to be known as blue-eyed soul, a pop and R&B-minded sound driven by big emotions and even bigger vocals. When they sang hits like You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feeling and (You’re My) Soul and Inspiration, the magic was the contrast, the push and pull between Medley’s weight and Hatfield’s lift.

This clip, though, is all about what happens when Hatfield stands alone.

It’s a reminder that some singers don’t just perform a song, they step inside it. Hatfield’s voice in this era could feel gentle, then suddenly ring out with a power that sounded effortless. That mix, tenderness and force in the same breath, is why this particular Unchained Melody has become a benchmark for live television vocals.

Before the famous name, there were the early ideas, and they weren’t exactly inspiring. As Bill Medley tells it, “In the beginning when we started singing together we thought of using the combination of Hatfield and Medley”, a straightforward plan that made sense on paper.

In practice, it got weird fast. Medley jokes that the mashups left them with the Hatleaves and the Medfields, and neither one sounded like a name that would stop a crowd. Even “Bob and Bill,” as Medley puts it, didn’t exactly knock people out.

The real name arrived the old-fashioned way, from the audience, loud and unplanned. They were working a club down south, they finished their first show, and a guy stood up and yelled, “that’s righteous brother”. That was it. The duo took it, kept it, and built a legacy under it.

Andy Williams, hosting with that easy charm, adds a quick joke that makes the story even sweeter. He says that when he and his brothers were looking for a name, someone in the audience yelled something too, but they couldn’t use it. The punchline lands as “the get lost brother,” a friendly nudge that keeps the moment light and sets the tone for what comes next.

Medley sums up the origin story with the kind of simple finality that only works when it’s true, “We’ve been known as that ever since.”

The best performances often have a human moment right before the fireworks, and this one has a great setup. There’s laughter, a little teasing, and a quick peek at how the Righteous Brothers saw their own songs while they were still climbing the charts.

Williams brings up another song, then zeroes in on the one he really wants to hear: Unchained Melody. The request feels casual, like he’s asking for a favorite dish, but everyone on stage seems to understand it’s a big one.

Hatfield answers with a line that still feels surprising, considering what the song became. “Great song. I’d do that one by myself,” he says, then adds, “I didn’t think it was going to be a hit.” It’s humble, almost offhand, and it makes the performance that follows hit even harder. A song that later came to define a voice, introduced as something that didn’t even seem destined for the spotlight.

Medley, standing by for Hatfield’s solo turn, gets the best laugh of the exchange. When asked what he usually does while Hatfield sings it, he says, “Find a little corner and kick myself a lot.” It’s self-deprecating, but it also says plenty about the respect between them. Medley knows what Hatfield can do, and he knows the audience is about to see it.

Williams keeps the joke going by offering to show Medley the corner he uses whenever he hears Tony Bennett sing San Francisco. It’s the kind of warm, showbiz banter that only works when the room feels relaxed.

Why this 1965 “Unchained Melody” performance still pulls people in

Some live TV clips age into nostalgia. This one stays present tense.

Part of that is the setting. The Andy Williams Show had polish, but it also allowed real moments to breathe, and Hatfield uses that space. The camera and the crowd don’t distract from him, they frame him. The repeated applause and the audible swell of the music make it feel like being in the studio, listening as the performance happens, not as a museum piece.

Another reason it lasts is the Righteous Brothers story that surrounds it. Medley and Hatfield were known as a duo, and that context adds a little extra spark here. Medley’s joking “corner” line lands because it’s true in spirit, Hatfield had a song that could stop the show, and everyone knew it.

The clip also carries a bittersweet layer for longtime fans. Hatfield later died in 2003, but not before he and Medley were inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. That legacy hangs in the air when the voice hits those big peaks. It’s a reminder that pop history isn’t only built in studios, it’s built in moments like this, caught on tape.

Conclusion

Hatfield’s 1965 Unchained Melody isn’t famous because it’s old, it’s famous because it’s overwhelming in the best way. The name origin story, the jokes with Andy Williams, and Medley’s proud humor all make the performance feel even more alive when the singing begins. This is the kind of clip that reminds audiences why live television used to feel like an event. For anyone who wants to feel that rush again, this performance is still waiting, still rising, still landing with that final, quiet verdict: beautiful.