Thank gawd for Alexa, Shazam and the like.
I hear enticing music in films, podcasts and TV all the time. You can’t always rely on the lyrics to tell you what the song is called, and Googling lyric fragments can be a mild moose lace. Or was that wild goose chase?
It just gets even more difficult when the songwriters decide to be dicks and don’t include the song’s title in the chorus — or anywhere in the lyrics, sometimes. How many kids like me went flipping through Clash records looking for Stand By Me? I distinctly remember being made to feel like an idiot when it was pointed out to me that song is actually called Train In Vain. It put me off the band, in fact. It felt cliquey. Also, London Calling is a double album, and I couldn’t afford it. I believe I bought Electric by The Cult instead, as it had just come out. I’ve never regretted it.
So, I thought it might be fun — or clearly, therapeutic — to go through some notable songs that don’t have the title in the lyrics in any way, and see what I can figure out why they did this. Along with the name of the song, I’ll include a lyrical refrain from the song — which might be what some people thought it was called in the first place.
The Clash | Train In Vain (Stand By Me)
Let’s deal with The Clash first. As best I can tell, Train In Vain is a song about Mick Jones getting dumped. She didn’t stand by him because she felt trapped, so all those trips to her place on the Underground were in vain. Eventually, in the U.S., the song was listed as Train In Vain (Stand By Me).
Green Day | Good Riddance (Time Of Your Life) / Basket Case (Crackin’ Up) / Longview (Bite My Lip)
This reminds me, unsurprisingly, of Good Riddance (Time Of Your Life) by Green Day — which many people probably figured was simply called Time Of Your Life when they first heard it. The popular, 1997 version of the song has that refrain in brackets, but the original version of the song, which was issued as the B-side of Brain Stew/Jaded in 1996, was just Good Riddance. Incidentally, Green Day looked to The Clash’s London Calling for inspiration as they recorded 1997’s Nimrod. While we’re at it, Green Day has at least two other notable songs that fit into this category — Basket Case, from the Dookie album, about Billie Joe Armstrong’s anxiety disorder. And Longview, also from Dookie, which is about inertia and masturbation.
Nirvana | Smells Like Teen Spirit (Here We Are Now, Entertain Us) / Lithium (I’m Not Gonna Crack) / About A Girl (I Can’t See You Every Night)
Kurt Cobain wrote About A Girl about Tracy Marander, his girlfriend at the time. When he brought the song to the studio he was asked what it was about and his answer became the title. Lithium is named for a psychiatric anti-depression drug, commonly associated with bipolar disorder. But Cobain’s song is about a man who finds religion to keep from killing himself — a play on religion being “the opiate of the masses.” Smells Like Teen Spirit gets its name — indirectly — from the Teen Spirit brand of deodorant. Bikini Kill’s Kathleen Hannah spotted it at the grocery store, and later scrawled “Kurt smells like Teen Spirit” on his wall. Hannah’s friendly vandalism inspired the song’s title, despite the fact that Cobain had no idea Teen Spirit was a brand of deodorant until after the song had been released.
David Bowie | Space Oddity (Ground Countrol to Major Tom)
David Bowie’s first big hit is the fictional story of an astronaut named Major Tom, inspired by Stanley Kubrick’s 1968 film 2001: A Space Odyssey, for which it is a play on words.
Queen | Bohemian Rhapsody (Mama)
Freddie Mercury’s masterpiece from Queen’s 1975 album A Night At The Opera not only doesn’t have the title in the lyrics, but it doesn’t even have a chorus. Instead, it has an intro, a longer ballad section, a famous operatic middle section, a hard rock section beloved by Wayne & Garth, and the pretty “nothing really matters” outro to bookend the “doesn’t really matter” bit from the intro. The suite came together by bridging three different songs Mercury had written. Six minutes long, it has five sections, 180 overdubs and was recorded in five different studios over the course of three weeks. It is one of the best-selling and most-beloved songs of all time. Mercury’s handwritten lyrics from 1974 were found in an auction in 2023 and show he initially called the song Mongolian Rhapsody, but crossed out Mongolian and wrote Bohemian instead. Good call, Freddie.
Pink Floyd | Brain Damage (The Lunatic)
Just as the lyrics of Smells Like Teen Spirit is where you’ll find the album title Nevermind, the penultimate song on Pink Floyd’s best-known album is where you’ll find the title The Dark Side of the Moon. What you won’t find, however, are the words “brain damage.” When I first heard it, I figured it was called The Lunatic Is On The Grass, which is such a strange statement. It’s almost like it should be a mnemonic device, like Every Good Boy Deserves Fudge. The working title of the song was Lunatic, but fancier pants prevailed. One could point out that half the tracks on The Dark Side of The Moon don’t have their titles in the lyrics — but they also don’t have any lyrics at all. We can forgive the band, of course, because they also have three songs where the title is the only lyric (Careful With That Axe Eugene, One Of These Days and Is There Anybody Out There?).
The Smiths | How Soon Is Now? (I Am The Son And Heir)
Perhaps the best-known song by The Smiths, the old college radio make-out song still sounds great. I’ve always loved the jangly tremolo guitar because it reminds me of Can I Put You On by a very youthful Elton John. How Soon Is Now? has a plethora of melodic lyric hooks, like “I go about things the wrong way. I am human and I need to be loved, just like everybody else does.” It’s such a strong vocal from Morrissey. A signature performance. Not sure it would sound right done by anyone else. Guitarist Johnny Marr’s original instrumental demo of the song was called Swamp.
The Beatles | A Day In The Life (I’d Love To Turn You On) / Tomorrow Never Knows (Turn Off Your Mind) / The Ballad of John & Yoko (Christ You Know It Ain’t Easy)
John Lennon’s one-chord stroke of genius, Tomorrow Never Knows, essentially gave birth to the psychedelic music scene which drove the industry for the next two years. The song’s working title was The Void, having been based on Timothy Leary’s The Psychedelic Experience: A Manual Based on The Tibetan Book of the Dead. Lennon was self-conscious of every aspect of the song — his vocals, fed through a Leslie speaker, the lyrics, the song structure and its sheer heaviness. This is why he named it after one of Ringo Starr’s beloved malapropisms — Tomorrow Never Knows. Just as he had done with A Hard Day’s Night. A Day In The Life, the closing track from the band’s next album — Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band — is another mostly Lennon composition. It came about from bits of the Daily Mail. The lucky man who blew his mind out in a car came from reading about the death of Guinness heir Tara Browne, who had been a friend of Lennon and Paul McCartney. The 4,000 holes in Blackburn Lancashire comes from another Daily Mail item about potholes. So, while the song doesn’t have the title in its lyrics, the title is meant to be a description of what you’re hearing. The Ballad of John & Yoko was The Beatles last U.K. No. 1, and it wasn’t really a Beatles song at all. It was recorded in a single day by just Paul and John. Safe bet it wouldn’t have been a No. 1 hit if it were called Christ You Know It Ain’t Easy or They’re Gonna Crucify Me.
Led Zeppelin | Black Dog (Hey Hey Mama) / The Immigrant Song (Land Of The Ice & Snow)
Led Zeppelin have a stupid number of songs in this category, but I thought I’d single out two of the ones which are universally well known. The Immigrant Song is a rarity in the Zeppelin catalog: It was released as a single, with Hey Hey What Can I Do as the flipside, everywhere but Japan where they opted for Out On The Tiles (another Zep song where the title doesn’t feature in the lyrics at all). The Immigrant Song was written while the band were touring Iceland, thus all the nordic themes which, out of context, sound cringey and pretentious. Still, nobody was immigrating. It should have been called The Tourist Song or The Working Visa Song. The track opens the band’s third album, while Black Dog opens the untitled fourth one, commonly referred to as Led Zeppelin IV. Hmmm — untitled, eh? This prompts me to point out that not only does Zeppelin have a bunch of songs whose titles aren’t in the lyrics, but none of their album titles are reflected in the lyrics on those albums, either — with the exception of the live soundtrack The Song Remains The Same (1976). Houses Of The Holy (1973) would count, but the namesake song containing that lyric is actually on Physical Graffiti (1975). When it comes to songs with non-lyric titles, Black Dog is probably the least inspiring. It is named for a black Labrador retriever seen on the grounds of Headley Grange where the band was recording. Black Dog‘s famous riff is credited to bassist John Paul Jones, who also arranged the song. If you’ve ever tried to play along with the drums, you can thank JPJ for that. Creative little bastard. The arrangement is actually cooler than the riff itself, which is just the lick from Howlin’ Wolf’s 1969 electric version of Smokestack Lightning— sped up.
As best I can tell, here are the rest of Zep’s songs that fit into this category, in no particular order: D’yer Mak’er, Hats Off To (Roy) Harper, Boogie With Stu,The Wanton Song, Achilles Last Stand, The Rover, Carouselambra, The Battle of Evermore, Out On The Tiles, Wearing And Tearing, Candy Store Rock, Over The Hills And Far Away, Four Sticks, Royal Orleans, Tea For One, Hots On For Nowhere, Trampled Underfoot, Sick Again, Black Country Woman, Bron-Yr-Aur Stomp, The Crunge and Ten Years Gone.
Jethro Tull | Hymn 43 (If Jesus Saves, He Better Save Himself)
Ian Anderson‘s self-styled “blues for Jesus” is an attempt to take potshots at Christianity, while pointing out that most American youth worshipped rock stars instead. The track is the highlight of the excellent Aqualung album, and fits into its religion vs. God central theme.
Talking Heads | Life During Wartime (This Ain’t No Party, This Ain’t No Disco)
Here’s another example of a song which ended up getting its refrain added to the title in parentheses. When it first appeared on the 1979 album Fear Of Music, the song was listed only as Life During Wartime. The single, however, added “This Ain’t No Party… This Ain’t No Disco… This Ain’t No Fooling Around” after the title. It wasn’t a huge hit as a single, but remains one of the band’s best and best-loved songs. It came from a jam, with David Byrne’s lyrics creating images of an urban revolutionary, hiding out and surviving on peanut butter.
Jefferson Airplane | White Rabbit (Go Ask Alice)
This psychedelic classic (about Alice’s Adventures In Wonderland) could have been called any number of things — Go Ask Alice, Feed Your Head or One Pill Makes You Larger. It’s such a menacing song — building and building. Vocalist Grace Slick wrote the song when she was still in her previous group The Great Society. They even recorded it — longer, but nowhere near as heavy. It’s meant to illustrate to parents that the stories they read to their kids might just be loaded with groovy, drug overtones in a different context.
The Who | Baba O’Riley (Teenage Wasteland)
Just as Pink Floyd took their name from two people (blues artists Pink Anderson and Floyd Council), The Who’s thunderous work of rock genius is named after Pete Townshend’s guru Meher Baba and influential minimalist composer Terry O’Riley. The working title for Townshend’s home demos was Baba, who had recently died when Townshend started writing it in 1970. The refrain and focus of the song is “teenage wasteland” — which Townshend has said came to him after observing the teenage crowds at both Woodstock and the 1969 Isle Of Wight Festival.
Smashing Pumpkins | Bullet With Butterfly Wings (Rat In A Cage)
Smashing Pumpkins frontman Billy Corgan wrote the band’s first big hit during a tumultuous time for him personally — going through a divorce and coming to terms with the death of his mother. The lead single from the double LP Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness, it won a Grammy in 1997. The song has its origins during the recording of the band’s previous album Siamese Dream, when they jammed it as “the world is a vampire.” The followup single 1979 was the band’s biggest hit — getting up to No. 2 in Canada and No. 12 in the U.S.
Black Sabbath | Paranoid (Finished With My Woman)
Like Bohemian Rhapsody, one of the reasons it’s difficult to find a title for Paranoid is the song has no chorus — just verses and a bridge. There’s not even any repeated lines. Paranoid’s working title was The Paranoid and Geezer Butler’s lyric in the final verse is often misheard: “I tell you to enjoy life, I wish I could but it’s too late.” Not “end your life.” The song was nearly banned as a result. Paranoid was a late addition to the album which bears its name. The record was originally supposed to be called War Pigs, after the epic opening track — thus the wonderfully cheesy album artwork. But Warner Brothers thought Paranoid has broader appeal.
Blur | Song 2 (Woo Hoo!)
Like The White Stripes’ Seven Nation Army, this is one of those times where the NHL grabbed a song out of my universe and smeared it all over theirs. And I don’t want them back. Blur’s anthemic Song 2 came out in 1997 and was meant to be a bit of a joke. Initially, it was an acoustic song with the famous “woo-hoo” bits represented by whistling. Instead, the band decided to record the song as a bombast pseudo-grunge anthem to mess with their record label — who, correctly sensing its commercial appeal, loved it instead.
The name comes from the track’s planned position on the band’s fifth, eponymous album. If anything, it could be called Pleased To Meet You.
Bee Gees | New York Mining Disaster 1941 (Have You Seen My Wife, Mr. Jones?)
What a delightfully cheery title, eh? Somehow, this was The Bee Gees’ first hit. A far cry from Jive Talkin’. Don’t go Googling said mining disaster — there wasn’t one. Well, there was in 1939, but not 1941. The mining disaster The Bee Gees were influenced by actually happened in Wales. They just thought New York sounded cooler. The band did an Area Resident trick for the guitars — one tuned to open D and the other in standard tuning. Played together, it sounds quite cool, especially given the song is in A minor. High five, dudes. Now try it with one guitar tuned to open D, another to open G and the lead guitar set up in standard tuning.
The Band | The Weight (Take A Load Off, Fanny)
Robbie Robertson was strumming his Martin guitar, coming up with the chord sequence, when he noticed the instrument was manufactured in Nazareth, PA. That gave him the opening line, “I pulled into Nazareth…” and just like that, a Canadian penned one of the greatest Americana songs of all time. The song gets its name by stepping back from the narrative. The main character is asked by his friend Fanny to connect with some of her acquaintances. In doing so, he gets more and more put upon. Weighted down. The characters — Fanny, Crazy Chester, Carmen and Anna Lee — are all based on real people the band knew.
Nazareth | Hair Of The Dog (Son Of A Bitch)
From Nazareth, Pennsylvania to Nazareth, Scotland now. The Scottish rockers wanted to call their 1975 album and song Son Of A Bitch, but their label wouldn’t go for it. A pun was the compromise — a son of a bitch could be described as the heir of the dog, which became Hair Of The Dog. I only just learned this.
CSN | Suite: Judy Blue Eyes (You Make It Hard)
Like Nazareth, the song title of Crosby, Stills & Nash’s first hit is a play on words for Sweet Judy Blue Eyes. It was written by Stephen Stills for Judy Collins, whom I have met. I can assure you her eyes are worth singing about. They are devastatingly beautiful. That said, this is a breakup song. Stills was planning on ending things after the pair had been dating for two years.
The Righteous Brothers | Unchained Melody (Woah, My Love)
The Righteous Brothers (neither of whom are named Righteous, lol) had a huge hit on their hands with this in 1965 — a decade after it was written as the theme song for a prison film called Unchained. Never to be confused with Unchained by Van Halen, Unchained Melody was written by Alex North in the 1930s, with lyrics by Hy Zaret in 1955 when it was completed for the film soundtrack and initially sung by Todd Duncan. Hal Bartlett produced the film, and pressured Zaret to include the word “unchained” in the lyrics, but he steadfastly refused, making him the patron saint of this here column.
Rush | The Spirit Of Radio (Invisible Airwaves)
One of the greatest prog rock songs ever committed to tape, Rush’s The Spirit Of Radio is lyricist/drummer Neal Peart’s love letter to pre-commercial, free-form FM radio, which he would listen to in his car on the way to band rehearsals and recording sessions. The direct inspiration comes from Brampton’s CFNY. In order to mimic free-form radio, the song features sections performed in different musical styles.
Buffalo Springfield | For What It’s Worth (Stop, What’s That Sound?)
Sucks for Buffalo Springfield and Stephen Stills in particular, that their first single was their biggest hit. I think the first time I heard it was a cover version by The Muppets. The initial single release featured (Stop, Hey What’s That Sound) in brackets, but the later appearance on the band’s debut album just lists it as For What It’s Worth. It was inspired by the Sunset Strip curfew riots of 1966. It’s quite likely the original title of the song was something closer to its chorus, but it became For What It’s Worth as a result of Stills’ pitch to Atlantic Records. “I have this song here, for what it’s worth, if you want it…”
Bob Dylan | Positively 4th Street (You Gotta Lotta Nerve) / Rainy Day Women #12 & 35 (Everybody Must Get Stoned) / Subterranean Homesick Blues (Look Out Kid)
Perhaps you’ll come away from this piece with the notion that Canada seems to love songs with non-lyric titles. Bob Dylan’s Positively 4th Street was actually a No. 1 hit in Canada in 1965. It was his followup to Like A Rolling Stone. Its working title was Black Dally Rue, and similar to a few others listed here, it doesn’t have a chorus — just verse after verse of nastiness directed at those who didn’t support him before he was famous. Rainy Day Women was recorded in a single take, which may not surprise you given its charming looseness. It was inspired by Dylan hearing Ronnie Milsap’s version of Let’s Go Get Stoned, later recorded by Ray Charles. The song is just meant to be a goof — Dylan playing around with stoning as a punishment, and getting stoned as recreation. When asked at a 1966 press conference for some official insight into the deeper meaning of the song, he kept up his ruse: “It’s about cripples and orientals and the world in which they live. It’s a sort of Mexican thing, very protest… and one of the protestiest of all things I’ve protested against in my protest years.” Finally, Subterranean Homesick Blues — with its inspired, brilliant, and oft-copied accompanying video — is Dylan being inspired by both beat poetry and Chuck Berry’s Too Much Money Business. For me, it’s his I’ve Been Everywhere. Dylan showing off what he does best — string words together that don’t necessarily belong together, but sound fantastic together.
Sugarhill Gang | Rapper’s Delight (I Said A Hip-Hop, the Hippie to the Hippie The Hip A-Hip Hop and You Don’t Stop)
Sugarhill Gang’s Rapper’s Delight was to hip-hop what Bill Haley’s Rock Around The Clock was to rock ’n’ roll. The 1979 track by the New Jersey trio has a cool — if obscure — distinction for Canadians. Rapper’s Delight got into the Top 40 in the States and went to No. 3 in the U.K., but it hit No. 1 in Canada (along with the Netherlands and Spain). Recorded in a single take, the song set the standard for rap music for the next five or six years. It’s in the Grammy Hall of Fame.
Neil Young | After The Gold Rush (Look at Mother Nature on the Run in the 1970s)
Neil Young’s effective environmental ballad from his album of the same name. Old Neil says when he visits new places, he has a habit of trying to imagine what they looked like 100 years ago (I do the same thing!). It was this practice which led to the writing of After The Gold Rush, and even notions of a screenplay about devastating flood in California. It was recorded at his home in Topanga Canyon.
New Order | Blue Monday (How Does It Feel?)
Power, Corruption & Lies was New Order’s second album, and the one which really put to rest any comparisons to the former Joy Division, through their full embrace of electronic music. It was during this time that the band completed the single Blue Monday, which was included on some CD and cassette copies of the album that my friends had. Initially, however, Blue Monday was a separate 12″ single — with iconic, die-cut cover art by Peter Saville. It remains the best-selling 12″ single of all time. In 1983 it managed to both fit in with the Eurodisco hits, and still stand apart as an alternative track. Blue Monday is an early example of a song that uses samples — in this case, Uranium by Kraftwerk. And it’s yet another example of a song without a chorus.
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Area Resident is an Ottawa-based journalist, recording artist, music collector and re-seller. Hear (and buy) his music on Bandcamp, email him HERE, follow him on Instagram and check him out on Discogs.