5 Flop Songs From 1975 We Can't Help But Love

1975 was a heavy-hitting year for blockbuster singles that have stood the test of time. After all, this was the year David Bowie scored his first U.S. No. 1 with his John Lennon collaboration "Fame." Yet not all the definitive tracks from this era that we love today performed quite as well as we might imagine. Bruce Springsteen's "Born To Run," which is today heralded as a classic and his signature song, stalled at No. 23 on the Billboard Hot 100. It just goes to show how competitive the singles chart was at the time. And the truth is that while such placings may seem unthinkable in retrospect, there are plenty more worthy artists from the era whose work sank without a trace when released as a single in 1975.

With that said, here are five incredible tracks from 1975 that, for one reason or another, utterly failed to chart in key markets when first pressed as singles. Four were released in the U.S., while one was released solely in the United Kingdom. Looking back, each example seems a travesty, at least to us, so be sure to give them a listen if you don't know them already, and prepare yourself to enjoy a treat or two.

Yacht rock institution Steely Dan built an enormous loyal following in the 1970s thanks to the duo's exceptional songwriting that smoothly blended jazz, rock, and soul influences. And of course, because of the incredible musicianship on display across the group's albums and live performances, achieved with the use of top-class session musicians. Members Donald Fagen and Walter Becker hit the ground running with early hits such as "Reelin' In the Years" and "Dirty Work," but not all of the band's singles during its imperial period managed to hit the mark ... as 1975's "Bad Sneakers" proves.

"Bad Sneakers" has everything a Steely Dan fanatic could ask for: A driving but laid-back rhythm section, biting lyrics featuring images of pina coladas, tuxedos, and boulevards accompanied by beautiful backing vocals, and of course some rocking lead guitar parts. Somehow, when it was released as the second single from the album "Katy Lied," it utterly failed to bother the Billboard charts and sank without a trace. It has since become a fan favorite and a fixture of Steely Dan setlists, so it seems that perhaps its initial failure was nothing but a matter of timing.

Can you believe it? Can you? No, neither can we. Aerosmith's classic "Walk This Way" failed to chart upon its initial release back in 1975. What was happening back then? Were DJs having an off-year? Or was there something wrong with everyone's hi-fis? In any case, the song performed poorly, as staggering as that might be.

Aerosmith was starting to find its feet in 1975. As well as recording its seminal album "Toys in the Attic," the band was touring extensively and writing on the road. The rudiments of "Walk This Way" apparently came to guitarist Joe Perry during a sound check in Hawaii, while he was playing around with new riffs inspired by The Meters and James Brown. When it came to recording, frontman Steven Tyler claims to have left one set of lyrics in a cab on the way to the studio, forcing him to write another on the wall of the stairwell.

It turned out to be a happy accident. Perry loved the lyrics, and he fit his guitar parts around them. The song was rereleased the following year, and it finally became a No. 10 hit in 1977. It also became legendary when reworked as a rock/hip-hop crossover with Run-DMC in 1986, hitting No. 4 on the Hot 100.

Television is a very weird band, even today. Listening back in 1975, when bandleader Tom Verlaine and his musical conspirators were trying to hone what would be their signature sound, it must have been even weirder. The group's first single, "Little Johnny Jewel," was a statement of intent. It opens with an ominous but groovy bassline that's soon accompanied by discordant lead guitar and motorik drums, and by the time Verlaine's vocals kick in, it sounds like nothing else from the era: An awkwardly catchy, angular gem.

Verlaine reportedly selected the song as the single precisely because of its inaccessibility, much to the chagrin of guitarist Richard Lloyd, who was frustrated that the track was unknown to the small fanbase they had managed to accrue. Worse, the track was seven minutes long, meaning it would span both sides of the 7-inch, limiting radio play and preventing Television from promoting two songs with one release. Lloyd briefly left the band as a result.

It may be a little unfair to describe "Little Johnny Jewel" as a flop — it only received a limited release in 1975 and wasn't going to be topping the Hot 100 without numerous repressings. But it is interesting to remember that Television still languished in relative obscurity during the mid-1970s, especially in the United States. Though the group went on to even greater creative heights with the 1977 classic "Marquee Moon," the band split the next year just as it was gaining some commercial traction. The indifference Verlaine felt toward making "Little Johnny Jewel" a hit arguably characterized the whole of Television's 1970s career.

In the mid-1970s, some of history's greatest progressive rock groups were at the peak of their powers. One of these was the British band Genesis. With both Peter Gabriel and Phil Collins at the helm, the collective was in the midst of delivering one of the most ambitious projects in its discography: "The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway," a double-album rock opera featuring the classic song "Carpet Crawlers."

In prog rock tradition, the album is meant to be taken as a grand whole, with the songs together telling the story of a Puerto Rican hustler on the streets of New York City. Perhaps that's why the single "Carpet Crawlers," taken from the second side of the album, made no impression on the U.K. chart when it was picked as a single in April 1975. Contemporary reviews were unforgiving of its sombre tone and ghostly lyricism, but longtime fans celebrate the song as one of Genesis' most beautiful performances. The strange images summoned by the lyrics contrast bizarrely with the transcendent instrumentation. If you're looking to enjoy "Broadway" in bite-size chunks, this is one way to approach it.

Speaking of beautiful prog rock, Yes was also releasing some of its most celebrated work in 1975. The British band had released its seventh album, "Relayer," in 1974, featuring its epic 22-minute opening track, "The Gates of Delirium." The song contains several movements meditating on the horrors of war, incorporating a wealth of percussion and keys and mind-melting jazz fusion influences. Eventually, it reaches a coda in which the chaos abates and the ravaged landscape returns to a place of mournful calm. It was this section that was selected to become a standalone single, simply titled "Soon," which was released in 1975.

It is a lush arrangement that was certainly more radio-friendly than the more forceful passages of "Delirium," with tasteful, melodic keys from Patrick Moraz and a soaring vocal from frontman Joe Anderson. It may not have been a hit in its own right, but for prog aficionados, it's remembered as one of the most moving passages in Yes' entire discography. It's a uniquely tender piece that perhaps deserved more attention in its own right than it was able to attract as a single.