5 Classic Rock Songs From 1973 We'll Be Blasting On Repeat 'Til The Day We Die

If any era of time represents classic rock at its peak, it might just be the early '70s. The Beatles had broken up in 1970, bands like Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, and The Who were carrying rock's mantle while defining its shape and future, and rock had yet to evolve (or devolve) into its '80s glitzy arena bombast. That last step of rock history arguably started in 1974 with Kiss' debut, making 1973 a kind of apex year for musical complexity, creativity, and musicianship. It produced plenty of songs that we'll be blasting on repeat till the day we die.  

But how do we go about choosing a mere five classic rock songs from a year that granted us albums like Pink Floyd's "The Dark Side of the Moon," David Bowie's "Aladdin Sane," and The Who's "Quadrophenia," to name a few? If we're going to be blasting these songs over and over, they've got to retain some complexity and depth that make them more than a one-note listen. We've also got to choose from a range of classic rock to represent the variety and versatility of music in 1973, like glam (David Bowie), prog (King Crimson), blues-infused (Zeppelin), and so forth. And it might go without saying, but these songs have got to be the best of the best in terms of songwriting.

We already mentioned some of the bands and albums we're highlighting in this article, like Pink Floyd's "The Dark Side of the Moon." We're choosing the masterpiece "Time" from that album for one of our choices, as well as Bowie's stunningly beautiful track, "Lady Grinning Soul," from "Aladdin Sane." Beyond those two, we've got selections from Led Zeppelin, The Who, and King Crimson.

How can we not start off with a song from Pink Floyd's "The Dark Side of the Moon," an album that was the highest-selling album of the entire 1970s, at 50 million copies sold? It's not that Pink Floyd deserves a space in this article because of high record sales, but rather that high record sales indicate the caliber of the music in question (in this case). And because it wouldn't be fair to choose multiple songs from the same artist, we've got to select the incomparable "Time" as a song to play on repeat till death. 

From "Time's" opening clock chimes and derring-do cowboy riff to its dreamy chorus, spacey and vibrant guitar solo, background gospel singers, and unforgettable lyrics ("Hanging on in quiet desperation / Is the English way"), every piece of "Time" stands out as intentional and impeccably composed. It's not just good on the first listen; it reveals greater complexities and value on repeat listens. And even though "Time" was written as one component of an entire, album-long work (and segues into "The Great Gig In the Sky" and its iconic vocalist so perfectly that the two songs act like one song), the song can still be plucked from "The Dark Side of the Moon" and stand on its own merits, even as a single.  

Of course, "Time" isn't just musically excellent, but has a meaningful, universally human message. As writer and Floyd bassist Roger Waters told Rolling Stone about the song, "It describes the predicament of anybody who, growing up ... suddenly realizes that time is going really, really fast." He wrote it at 29, after having "been told that I was preparing for something," and wondering if that something was worth it.

There's a case to be had that "Lady Grinning Soul" from 1973's "Aladdin Sane" is one of David Bowie's best works, no matter the album. The song brims with resplendent, otherworldly beauty, much like the woman described in the song's lyrics: "She'll lay belief on you / Skin sweet with musky oil / The lady from another grinning soul." Driven by gorgeous, magical piano work courtesy Mike Garson, Spanish musical allusions, and imaginative, unexpected chord changes, "Lady Grinning Soul" is a true gem amongst gems, both within Bowie's discography and within the year it came out.

As the name of its album says, "Lady Grinning Soul" comes from Bowie's Aladdin Sane era, one of his most famous personas and looks (with the lightning bolt on the face). A bit brighter and lighter than Ziggy Stardust from Bowie's 1972 album, "The Rise And Fall Of Ziggy Stardust And The Spiders From Mars," Aladdin Sane was "Ziggy goes to America," as Ultimate Classic Rock quotes Bowie. Born partially from fatigue playing the same character night after night while touring, Aladdin Sane — the character and the album — pushed further into unusual, avant-garde musicality. Hence, a song like "Lady Grinning Soul," is pointedly placed at the end of "Aladdin Sane" like a coda to the whole work.   

As far as the song's inspiration is concerned, Bowie once said that it was, "written for a wonderful young girl whom I've not seen for more than 30 years ... When I hear this song, she's still in her 20s, of course" (per Far Out Magazine). Speculation abounds regarding the girl's identity, but in true Bowie fashion, she remains as mysterious as "Lady Grinning Soul" perpetually sounds.

Another piano-driven song and final song on its album, "Love Reign O'er Me" from The Who's "Quadrophenia" is a fitting, emotionally explosive end to a colossal, ambitious, theatrical concept album. Roger Daltrey delivers a gonzo vocal performance on a track that finishes the album's day-in-the-life-of story about a young Englishman named Jimmy. 

After going through some ups and downs charted by "Quadrophenia's" songs, the lyrics of "Love Reign O'er Me" describe the conclusion that Jimmy reaches about life: "Only love, can make it rain / The way the beach is kissed by the sea." Beauty like this makes the song, and all of "Quadrophenia," worth listening to again and again even if the music wasn't superb, which it is — especially "Love Reign O'er Me's" descending guitar line during the chorus as it overlaps with the rest of the song's chord changes. It's masterful stuff.

"Love Reign O'er Me" has additional layers even beyond its composition and overall Bildungsroman tale (coming-of-age tale) about Jimmy. Pete Townshend wrote the song and incorporated himself and his fellow band members into it in the form of aspects of Jimmy's personality. As Ultimate Classic Rock breaks it down, there's vocalist Roger Daltrey ("a tough guy, a helpless dancer"), drummer Keith Moon ("a bloody lunatic"), bassist John Entwistle ("a romantic"), and himself, Pete Townshend ("a beggar, a hypocrite"). In this way, "Love Reign O'er Me" acts as a snapshot of The Who in 1973, a band that would be fractured over time — much like Jimmy's mind — by line-up changes, tragedy, and infighting. This lightning-in-a-bottle aspect only adds to the song's value over time.

In a few short years following the release of their 1969 self-titled debut album, Led Zeppelin had released four studio albums and become the biggest band in the world. Come 1973, they broke records by drawing a crowd of 56,800 into Tampa Stadium following the release of their fifth album, "Houses of the Holy." The album is particularly musically diverse, unusual, and draws heavily from Zeppelin's nerdcore leanings. The J.R.R. Tolkien-inspired "Over the Hills and Far Away" might have nearly 174 million listens on Spotify, but we're going with the ominous, dark, subdued, and Norse myth-inspired "No Quarter" as a song we can listen to forever and ever.

"No Quarter" works so well in part because it sounds like a jam session. It's got a hypnotic, almost mystical trance-like quality, especially in its meandering middle section, weirdly doubled and overlapping vocals, warbling synths, and short and grimy repeating riff. The song induces an almost drug-like dream state in the listener, is imminently re-listenable, and only gets better each time.

Part of "No Quarter's" meandering, floaty sound comes from its compositional history. An early 1970 version of the song (available on YouTube) shows that the song started as an uptempo rocker, albeit one with some of the same eerie qualities as the song's final version. If Zeppelin didn't hone the song to its final, "Houses of the Holy" form, it would have still been excellent (especially drummer John Bonham's work), but would have run the risk of being less unique. But, even the song's earlier version sounds very much like a jam session ramble, one that shone through in the spontaneous feeling of the final version.

Finally, we come to a dark horse entry on our list, if only because King Crimson is the dark horse anytime they show up. For the uninitiated, King Crimson is the avant-garde of the avant-garde. It's alien music from a cosmic future of human transcendence. Even if you don't think a track like "Larks' Tongues In Aspic, Part One" from 1973's "Larks' Tongues In Aspic" is enjoyable to hear, it'll take days of repeat listening just to begin to untangle its endlessly fascinating composition. Its inventiveness, density, and uniqueness make it worth listening to again and again.

Basically, it's far more accurate to think of "Larks' Tongues In Aspic, Part One" as a classical piece of music fused with 20th-century electric instruments and released through the veneer of early '70s classic rock. It's "through-composed," meaning it's built using end-on-end sections that don't repeat, like "Happiness is a Warm Gun" by The Beatles, rather than a typical, looping verse-chorus structure. Heck, minutes eight to 12 (out of almost 14) are almost totally composed of a single violin frantically scrabbling away. This is music to make you wonder how it was written. 

As to that question, we need to look to King Crimson's "resident mad scientist" (as The Miscellany News put it), Robert Fripp, who headed up the band. To give you an idea of Fripp's headspace, he once said, "Music is the cup which holds the wine of silence. Sound is that cup, but empty. Noise is that cup, but broken" (quoted on DGM Live). Uh, sure. In that case, we can blast the cup of "Larks' Tongues In Aspic, Part One" on and on and on.