Sometimes songs, just like people, simply don’t fit in amongst the company of others. They’re the singles, B-sides, and freebies that, despite scoring airplay and acclaim, never made it onto a proper studio album. These are the lone wolves, the loners of a band’s catalog. Some are iconic and easily recognizable, while others tend toward obscurity and cult status. Maybe the reason for alienating these songs was strategic marketing, or profit maximization, or perhaps just lousy planning.
But whether we’re talking about “Ghost Town” or “Hey Jude”, a slew of truly exceptional songs can only be found on the flip-sides of 7’’ vinyl, gaudy greatest hits box sets, or the cold abyss of cyberspace. So in celebration of these isolated gems, we’re counting off the greatest classic rock ditties never to enjoy comfort and companionship within the friendly confines of a studio LP.
This one goes to 11.
11. “Little Johnny Jewel”
Television’s seminal 1977 album Marquee Moon managed to be both loose and meticulous, a brilliant amalgam of punk-rock sloppiness and art-rock knottiness. It’s therefore understandable why the band omitted “Little Johnny Jewel” from the original tracklist, choosing only to throw it on as a bonus cut for the reissue: it would tip the scale in favor of punk-rock sloppiness. More than anything else from Marquee Moon, “Little Johnny Jewel” feels unedited and unfiltered, as if the band recorded it in one ramshackle take a la “Sister Ray”. “Now Little Johnny Jewel/ Oh, he’s so cool,” squawks singer-guitarist Tom Verlaine, as Fred Smith’s bassline falls off the metronomic wagon underneath. Stop the tapes? Never. –Dean Essner
10. “Hey Hey What Can I Do”
The only non-album track officially released by Led Zeppelin, “Hey Hey What Can I Do” was actually a B-side to the “Immigrant Song” 7” single. Recorded during the Led Zeppelin III sessions, the track reflects the band’s folkier tendencies at the time, relying on acoustic guitars and melody rather than bombastic riffs. Ostensibly, the band felt that it didn’t fit with the rest of III — it’s a little tame by their standards — though hindsight tells us that it probably would’ve performed well as an A-side. Because of increased exposure via box sets and reissues, “Hey Hey What Can I Do” is now in heavy rotation alongside Zep’s biggest hits on most classic rock radio stations. –Jon Hadusek
10. “Ghost Town”
Mirroring both the internal struggles of The Specials as well as the external world in which they lived in, “Ghost Town” has been described as “an elegiac portrait of the band’s Coventry home town.” However, the song’s theme resonated far beyond the Midlands of the UK. Less than three weeks after its June 20, 1981 release, the song took on an entirely new meaning when serious rioting and unrest broke out in over 35 locations and at least 13 metropolitan areas across the UK, including London, Manchester, and Liverpool. This unexpected pairing led to many contemporary reviews calling “Ghost Town” an example of “instant musical editorial.” –Len Comaratta
09. “Honky Tonk Woman”
The Rolling Stones
There’s no question “Honky Tonk Woman” would’ve fit fine on Let It Bleed, the 1969 album that, instead of this electric-blues stampede, included the notoriously less fashionable “Country Honk”. Keith Richards explained it by saying the latter, an acoustic shuffle, was the original composition, as inspired by Jimmie Rodgers hallmarks of the ‘30s sans yodeling. But “HTW”, released five months before Bleed and first performed during the Stones’ compulsively YouTubable Hyde Park show in ‘69, comparatively oozes with Jagger’s playboy swagger. The beery lust isn’t essential to the strength of the melodies, but it is essential to the song being as huge as it was — and in line with the public enemy image attached to the Stones as they entered their most debauched and dangerous period, playing to thousands of 15-year-olds as well as knife-wielding Hell’s Angels and Black Panthers — when it was. –Mike Madden
08. “Don’t Do It”
Normally, it’d be a sin not to have a proper studio recording of what’s become one of The Band’s signature songs. Then again, the live Band was the best Band, and it only seems appropriate that the definitive version kicks off the double-whopper concert album, 1972’s Rock of Ages. Originally a hit titled “Baby Don’t You Do It” for Marvin Gaye, the Canadians (and one Arkansan) dropped the “Baby” and made it their own with the double helix harmonies of Levon Helm and Rick Danko, set ablaze by a climatic guitar solo from Robbie Robertson. The moment of pure sublimity arrives at 3:15, when everything drops out except Helm’s backbeat and Allen Toussaint’s whip-smart horn arrangements. The whole group kicks back in several seconds later, rendering any attempt at a studio rendition futile. The Band would close out the final encore of The Last Waltz with “Don’t Do It” six years later, but they sound a little slower, a little more tired. Rock of Ages captures them in their heyday, making it required listening for any fan of classic rock — and maybe even Motown. –Dan Caffrey