The Sickest Album Openers In Rock History

While the wonderful world of streaming encourages listeners to dive into musical playlists created by algorithms, most of the artists who created that music would prefer that we listen to it the way they intended it: by playing an album in its entirety, in the order in which the songs appear. For the listener, the rewards are bountiful. Hearing isolated songs from albums such as Pink Floyd's "Dark Side of the Moon" or The Who's "Tommy" pales in comparison to enjoying these albums as a whole, which were intricately constructed to create a musical experience meant to take the listener on a journey.

Some albums are blessed with solid opening tracks, but for an album opener to really be truly sick, it must immediately grab us by the collar, throw us into the passenger seat, and then zoom off, taking us on a musical adventure to points unknown. When we considered the best album-opening tracks, we didn't just settle for merely good songs, but great ones that not only set the tone for what's to come, but also instantly demand the listener's attention.

When exploring the untold truth of The Beatles, one of the grand ironies is that the band recorded its finest album right before its bitter breakup. The band's swan-song album, "Abbey Road," is widely regarded as its magnum opus, and that begins with the stunning opening track, John Lennon's "Come Together." 

The song begins with what many listeners assumed was a sonically modified recording of a rotary phone dialing, but is actually Lennon's electronically altered voice hissing, "Shoot me," just as Paul McCartney's doom-laden bass line begins its slow and steady progression. Lennon's opening lyrics, "Here come old flat-top," were lifted from Chuck Berry's "You Can't Catch Me," but from there the lyrics shift to the nonsensical with phrases like "ju-ju eyeball," "toe jam football," and "walrus gumboot." 

As the song continues, "Come Together" takes an ominous turn with the line, "Hold you in his armchair, you can feel his disease," the music building to a crescendo with a combination of funky organ (courtesy of Billy Preston) and Ringo Starr's deliberately primitive drumming. Meanwhile, Lennon's raunchy, distorted rhythm guitar contrasts with George Harrison's slick solo, all combining in a song that Rolling Stone deemed to be one of the Fab Four's top 10.

Among all the classics in the Stones' canon, it's clear that "Gimme Shelter" has held up well over the years, one of five rock songs from 1969 that sound even cooler today. The opening track on the band's 1969 "Let It Bleed" album kicks off with a somewhat hypnotic quavering guitar progression, a slow samba groove, and the gentle "oooh" of female backup singers. Then Charlie Watts' drums kick in, and the song punches into its unmistakable rock rhythm.  

"Ooh, a storm is threatening/ My very life today," front man Mick Jagger sings in the ominous opening verse. "If I don't get some shelter/ Ooh yeah, I'm gonna fade away." Yet the song turns even darker when the chorus erupts, with Jagger — joined by singer Merry Clayton — warns that war is "just a shot away." As the song builds, Clayton takes control, stealing the song with her powerful pipes as she sings, "Rape, murder, it's just a shot away." (Listen closely just after the three-minute mark, and an appreciative "whoo!" can be heard in the background after she nails it.)

Does this represent the Stones' greatest moment? That's a matter of opinion, although it speaks volumes that both Rolling Stone and other music industry media outlets have declared "Gimme Shelter" to be the band's best song ever. In any case, rock fans would be hard-pressed to find a stronger track with which to open an album.

For his 1965 album "Bringing It All Back Home," Bob Dylan pushed past his folk troubador image with his first LP to feature backing from a rock band (although he hedged his bet a bit, with one side of electric material, the other acoustic). For his follow-up, "Highway 61 Revisited" (released later that same year), he went nearly all electric. Those who purchased the album at the time, and plunked down the needle on side one, were greeted with a song unlike anything that Dylan — or, for that matter, anyone else — had ever produced, the sprawling "Like a Rolling Stone."

Sure, it's now become one of the most familiar songs in rock history, but imagine hearing it for the first time. First comes a jangling combo of drums, bass, and tinkling, honky-tonk piano, with Dylan's caustic, rapid-fire lyrics launching immediately: "Once upon a time you dressed so fine/
You threw the bums a dime in your prime, didn't you?" Clocking in at around six minutes — a ridiculously long time for a pop single at that time — the song progresses, with shimmering guitars as Dylan sneers and taunts. Then, session musician Al Kooper (who claimed he'd never played the instrument before that session), improvises the now-iconic organ riff that crystallizes everything. Now this is how you open an album.

In May 1967, weeks before The Beatles introduced psychedelia into the mainstream with "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band," Jimi Hendrix broke new ground in guitar virtuosity with his debut album, "Are You Experienced." Acclaimed rock guitarists like Eric Clapton and Jeff Beck were humbled by the technological innovation and inventiveness that Hendrix displayed, all of which was crystallized in the album's first track, "Purple Haze." 

From the opening discordant guitar notes that begin the song, "Purple Haze" was a song that expanded the limits of what a guitar was capable of. Meanwhile, Hendrix was also pushing the limits of reality itself — fueled with LSD — as haunting voices echo in the background and feedback-influenced guitar effects reverberate throughout (the trippy lyrics were reportedly influenced by a sci-fi novel). While there are several other extraordinary songs on "Are You Experienced," none can top the majestic weirdness and sheer originality of the track that kicks off the album.

Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers broke through with its self-titled 1976 debut, bolstered by hit singles "Breakdown" and "American Girl." It would be the band's third album, "Damn the Torpedoes," that really put Petty and the Heartbreakers over the top, led by the strength of the opening track "Refugee." 

"Refugee" is pure Petty at his most defiant, boasting lyrics inspired by the battle he was engaged in with his record label at the time. Guitarist Mike Campbell's guitar riffs are stunning, raw, and menacing, while Petty's vocals are imbued with intensity. 

Capturing that song was no mean feat, requiring an unbelievable 100 takes before they felt they'd gotten it right. Part of that, Campbell revealed to Classic Rock, was because of the key it was in. "It's a hard song to sing because it's at the top of [Petty's] range, and there were times when he would go: 'I can't hit those notes tonight, guys. We're going to have to leave it off the list.'" Ultimately, when reflecting on the untold truth of Tom Petty, "Refugee" ultimately became the song against which all other Heartbreakers songs were measured. "It's an albatross," Campbell laughingly admitted. "But it's a good problem to have."