The classic way that a pop song works is that it has an introduction, it builds, it has a break or a bridge, it builds some more, and then it concludes either with a real ending or with a repeat and fade. A nice example of a song with a simple repeated structure that keeps adding more elements is the Cars song, “It's All I Can Do.”
The song starts with a rhythmic interplay between drums, bass, synth, and guitar. What appears to be an introduction turns out to be identical to the first verse: the lead vocal is added after two iterations of the initial pattern, with no other change. After two more iterations of the pattern with lead vocal, a distorted electric guitar joins the pattern for two more iterations of the same pattern (giving a total of four lines in the verse).
Then it’s time for the chorus: where the verse had the instruments alternating playing with pauses in syncopated fashion, the instruments now play in a more conventional straight-ahead, sustained way. The song also modulates from minor to major. A high synth enters for the first time, doubling the lead vocal when it’s present but adding an additional ornament when the vocal is absent. On the line “It’s all I can do / To keep waiting for you,” backing vocals enter on “waiting for you,” and again at the matching point in the following line, “It’s all I can do / It’s all I can do” so that the second “It’s all I can do” closes the chorus with all voices singing.
After the chorus, it’s a little like we’ve started the song again, right after the intro that wasn’t really an intro: the second verse and chorus work essentially identically to the first verse and chorus. But instead of returning to a third verse, the song goes into a break that stays in the chorus mode. The vocals have dropped out, but the synth still plays the line that it played in the chorus, while a medium-distorted guitar (lighter than the one that enters in the second half of the verse) is in the foreground with a nimble line playing off the synth line in the background.
Then it’s back to the (fourth) verse pattern, with a subtle difference: there’s now a high-pitch but low-volume sustained synth, right at the edge between noticeable and unnoticeable. In case you miss its entry, it starts moving: down, then back up; then up an octave, repeating the pattern; then up another octave, repeating the pattern. It creates a noticeable tension by the end of the verse, which is relieved just before the usual transition to the chorus.
After one iteration of the “usual” chorus, a slightly elaborated chorus follows with guitar licks echoing the vocal lines. This elaborated chorus then repeats until the song fades out.
In contrast to the layering of that song, some songs have a structure more like setting up a large machine that’s set up and then turned on. As the song plays, it highlights or hides parts of the machine’s operation, but never really builds after the initial opening. An example of this is the New Radicals song, “You Get What You Give.”
The song has a brief beginning that almost doesn't deserve to be called an introduction; it’s like a more-rhythmic version of an orchestra tuning up for about 20 seconds, when the lead singer counts off “one, two, one, two, three, four!” From that point forward, the machine is switched on, and it's just a grooving juggernaut, cruising ahead. Subsequent changes are merely the audio equivalents of turning the headlights on and off, turning the turn signals on and off, turning on the windshield wipers on and off, at different points in the song. The initial instrumentation continues onward, with nothing really changing its forward momentum.
In contrast to the Cars song, nothing is really added in a layered way, there are just some different elements that briefly take their turn on stage and then exit – and generally the same elements in the same places. The backing vocals work pretty much the same way every time they come in. Likewise for the distorted lead guitar between chorus and verse, or the high strings over the chorus. The structure is rich enough that it doesn’t really matter that it's repeating; indeed, it’s appealing that it repeats, since the repetition offers an opportunity to re-hear the interactions.
In the first (“Cars”) approach, the listener is invited to hear the assembly of the song, as it drives toward a final peak of complexity. In the second (“New Radicals”) approach, the listener is invited to hear nearly the full complexity of the song from the beginning, but is given multiple chances to appreciate the interlocking elements.
Is one of these structures somehow better than the other? Absolutely not. What we can see with these two examples is that both structures can work to produce striking hit songs.