While we were digging our car out of the snow, we listened to most of Part 1 of Slate Culture's Exploration of One Hit Wonders which provides the "chart-nerd's perspective" on whether an artist/song combination should get forever widely branded with this tag.
You can listen through if you want, but we immediately noticed a few flaws that were not taken into account.
The podcast primarily focuses on VH1's 100 Greatest One Hit Wonders special from 2002 hosted by William Shatner, which occurred right around the time VH1 gave up on playing "Top 100" specials that aired videos, pivoting to a series of 2-minute documentary-style Behind the Music segments. We determined at some point in the mid-00s that VH1 did not use methodology based on numbers or chart positions for any of their "100 Greatest" specials, but instead they typically opted to determine its then-current placement in the pop culture canon.
The host of the podcast doesn't seem to understand this. VH1 is not Billboard. So in pretty much every instance, "pop culture" was used to determine these placements -- not numbers.
We vividly recall having initial problems with the VH1 series as well. When they aired their "100 Greatest Hits Of The '90s" or whatever it was called, they egregiously excluded "Gangsta's Paradise" and "November Rain" -- two songs which were both crowned MTV's #1 video of the year on the New Years Eve of their respective video years. So yeah, we get it. This was the same era of VH1-revisionism that endlessly tried to convince the world that the dancing baby gif from Ally McBeal was something that literally anyone cared about at any point during the '90s.
Our definition of a true, pure one-hit-wonder is a song/artist combination that is inseperable, where an artist is pretty much only remembered for their signature song -- a phenomenon that was a lot more common in the '50s, '60s and '70 than in the subsequent decades. But VH1 didn't really reach back that far into history because their target demo was Gen X Millennial cusps. So most of the show was '80s and '90s singles.
A pure one-hit-wonder has virtually no substantial chart history outside of one song. So this means that one must examine not only the Hot 100, but the other charts as well -- including album charts and placements outside of the United States.
The Slate podcast and VH1 agree that Faith No More's "Epic" is a one-hit-wonder, but their fanbase loves the albums Angel Dust and Album Of The Year, which both charted really well upon their releases. So this means Faith No More is not a one hit wonder.
Biz Markie may have charted only once with "Just A Friend," but he's also respected among the greats of hiphop's golden era. And if you wanna get technical about it, he has an uncredited singing cameo on Jay-Z's "Girls Girls Girls" from 2001 which reached #17. Biz Markie is not a "Whoomp There It Is."
Gary Numan's "Cars" should only count as a one-hit-wonder if you ignore any other countries outside of United States. The podcast host called "Are Friends Electric" a flop. It was released after "Cars" hit #1 but only reached as high as #105. But the host neglects to mention that it was a #1 hit in the UK for four weeks. Xenophobic much?
Vanilla Ice is probably a good example of a one-hit-wonder that we would grant despite our vivid memories of hearing "Play That Funky Music" and "Satisfaction" on our local Top 40 station. (We have a cassette of KC101 from Summer 1990 where they play both of these songs.) We know he had other charting hits, but no one remembers those songs. Yes, we remember them. And we know the numbers prove that Vanilla was not technically one-hit. But he is. He just is. Because fuck you, that's why.
The title of the podcast episode is literally "One And Done," which means these acts have no history beyond one song. So yeah, Los Del Rio and Right Said Fred are great examples obviously. But Gary Numan never stopped touring. Faith No More had dates scheduled as recently as last year. You can't call legacy/longevity acts "One and Done." Lou Reed is not a one-hit artist. You can't just look at one chart from right after a single's peak in popularity and make an assessment based on this one factor.
It's possible this nuance is explored in the "Part Two" section of the podcast, but we realized our clutch broke again during the snowstorm and now we have to figure out how we're going to find the money to get this paid for. So yea, we're done here.
We recently saw 
Elsewhere on our Google news feed, we saw about 20 headlines that really wanted us to know about the "reimagined" Beavis and Butthead reboot due to premiere in 2021. 
Similar to the setting of both Bill & Ted and Wayne's World, heavy metal and music discussion were central to the success of B&B's initial run. Sadly, a much smaller selection of videos made the cut for their 2011 season. We anticipate the show's move to Comedy Central all but ensures the "reimagined" update will distance the show from music even further.
- We can't recall the last time we saw four outstanding TV performances all in one awards show. Almost every band or singer had an extravagant, lavish stage set-up, frequently with 20 or 30 additional musicians or dancers.
- None of Arsenio's jokes are objectively funny. For example, he makes an obvious and kinda boring Rick James joke within the first 5 minutes. But he seems extremely comfortable throughout the entirety of the show and handles every quirk and unplanned moment with a very chill demeanor. At one point, the show returns from commercial, and he's standing next to one of LL Cool J's backup dancers asking her about life and how things have been going. He probably sits down more than most other awards show hosts. He wasn't the funniest or most outrageous, but we're tempted to say that he was ultimately the best "master of ceremonies" the VMAs ever had. And we're tempted to speculate that Arsenio ruled the VMAs during their best era, although we have not yet reviewed the '88, '89 or '90 shows that he also hosted.
Along the past three weeks of our extensive B&B journey, we noticed a few surprising details:
#3 A very recent discovery: The audio for the Season 6 videos must have been finished around the 2nd or 3rd week of September 1995. 
Mike Judge purposely made Beavis and Butthead sound smarter during the video segments, and the setting often seemed to bring out the best in their personalities. In one episode, Butthead tells their high school guidance councilor that one of his skills involves watching videos. Mike's foresight for the potential of human stupidity (a decently scary amount coming straight from his 2006 film Idiocracy) strangely left the door open for B&B to potentially turn their critique into a profit. It helps to have a personality as memorable as Beavis or Butthead, but we think an IRL version of these two could have used "music criticism through Youtube" as a cash flow generator (not unlike The Needle Drop guy).
Fiona Apple "Fast As You Can"
Trinidad James "All Gold Everything"
Nicki Minaj f/ Beyonce "Feeling Myself"
Contrary to popular opinion, Season 8 and its noncanonical 2011 premiere episode did NOT pick up where the show left off 14 years prior. Instead, it functions to fill in the gaps. Had the show continued endlessly like The Simpsons or South Park, this is how it would have progressed:
We’re unsure why this placed as the eighth best episode ever over classics like “Pipe of Doom” or fan favorites like “Tired.” The jokes aren’t as funny as they used to be, and the stories throughout the 2011 season felt overall conceptually overreaching.
Throughout October and November '97, MTV held an extended Beavis and Butthead celebration re-airing what they advertised as "every episode" in chronological order (2-4 episodes per night). It was not every episode, but they probably showed about 170 of them, which they had never attempted before. They re-aired a handful that were previously banned and a few that lifted some of the censored moments. (This was a big deal in the era before binge-marathons and DVR.) Casual viewers were reminded of the minimal, crude non-stories of 1993. The journey from "Frog Baseball" to "Butt Flambé" felt like an eternity. 
"Candy Sale" is a good example of a classically stupid narrative in the style of Larry Fine & Curly Howard or Jed Clampett & Jethro Bodine who probably expressed a similarly boneheaded grasp of basic sales exchange at some point.
The 
Many of the '93 episodes have such uneventful narratives, although those episodes did the best job of establishing the inherent boredom of dead-end Highland (a town whose home-state is never established, although we are 99% certain it's a fictional town in Mike's home state of Texas) and dreadfully miserable 7-hour high school days. The shitty animation style from that era adds so much character, establishing a Gummo-esq dichotomy uncovering beauty in the ugliness, liveliness in the boredom, thoughtfulness in the stupidity.
Early in the episode, a sharpened pencil flies into Beavis's eye socket. He initially screams, but then laughs it off moments later. The laughs are more than just punchline indicators; they're a natural defense mechanism deflecting certain death. Will their lives forever change after the staff of Highland High removes their privilege? 
When the title of the last episode leaked weeks before its premiere, rumors spread that B&B would be among the few TV shows in history daring enough to kill off its titular characters once and for all. The show creators strongly considered the idea. Either way, the title promised an exciting banger of a finale on par with the scene from Beavis and Butthead Do America when the FBI and secret service take aim at deliriously oblivious Cornholio.
- Before the show reveals that they're not actually dead, Van Driessen and McVicker discuss the whereabouts of their parents. For a moment, it seemed like the final episode might have uncovered more insight or included prominent show appearances from their moms. (It's assumed their dads are the two former Mötley Crüe roadies who cross their path in the desert segment of Do America.)
Harry Sachz first appears deep in Season 6 within the series' last 50 episodes. Along with the Crazy Farmer from "Bungholio: Lord Of The Harvest," he is one of the show's more mysterious recurring characters. 
David Van Driessen should probably stop singing in public. As early as his first appearance in the Peace Love and Understanding short, the first of his nine lives ends abruptly while singing a song about Earth Day at a monster truck rally. "I'd just like to remind everybody that today is Earth Day, and everyday is Earth Day. So I'd like to ask everybody to sort of just mellow out, and if we could all just join hands and help me sing this song, that would be really great! Mm-kay? *Plant a treeeee... Save a treee...*" Around this point, the monster truck lands on his head and crushes his entire body into fragments of flesh, bone and blood. B&B respond "YES!" and headbang.
By '95, the character designs, voices, animation style, stories and jokes were as close as they would ever get to what Mike Judge had in his head when he first started. By '97, the animation had grown slightly too slick, the stories were just barely too polished, and they were no longer pacing the episodes with video commentary. So it's possible that this moment from "Bus Trip" might the culmination of their best season. It's one of those episodes that has at least one joke (sometimes more than one) within pretty much every line of dialogue. 
When a new set of animators were commissioned to work on Season 3, Mike Judge felt unsatisfied with the Hanna-Barbara style subtlety in the characters' movements and gestures. "Comedians" b/w "Car Wash" is a great example. It's kind of strange seeing the way the audience applauds at the juggler in "Comedians." In Taint Of Greatness, Mike specifically notes Butthead's gestures in "Car Wash." He's shown shrugging, moving his eyebrows in an unusual manner and waving his hands while describing a plan to Beavis. The creators understood the nuances of classic animation well enough to know that it wasn't appropriate for this show.
This episode from late in Season 2 was frequently run during Summer '93's weekend Moronathons. The story starts out okay with B&B watching a girl licking a froyo cone in a TV commercial, and it might be the only time Butthead says "Whoa. Huhuh. I'm getting a boner." The rest of the story is pretty bad. They buy yogurt cones at a mall and immediately hate the taste. Instead of returning their money, the store manager pushes the cones in their faces and laughs. B&B get revenge by smearing the yogurt on the walls of the mall. After they run into a mall security guard, the story abruptly switches to a meeting with a high school guidance councilor. This final scene feels like it was pulled from an entirely different episode, and it doesn't refer to the mall sequence at all.
Is this episode actually that bad? As mentioned earlier, Mike Judge hates both parts, and was "burying [his] head in the sand" after its premiere. But it was a success anyway. Both parts of the episode start with the TV parodies and fake commercials that became often used throughout the series. There's something to be said when the strength of the characters and the freshness of the format can still generate over a million new fans within 5 days even though it's probably the series' poorest animation quality and includes two of its weakest stories. (To be fair, "Yogurt's Cool" looks worse and has NO story.) The strength of the format itself is noteworthy since it hadn't been attempted on MTV before, and it was the perfect point in history to show cartoon metal fans' negative reactions to 
Christmas season was just around the corner, and high demand for B&B merchandise (including the November release of The Beavis and Butthead Experience comp CD) along with pressure from fans, advertisers and investors meant MTV had to make a quick decision. They chose to continue airing altered versions of re-runs. The show creators were unhappy that many of the cuts disrupted comedic rhythm. "Fire!" was removed from almost all of these, but here are some other notable censored moments: