The Best Hidden Tracks In Rock History

Hidden tracks are among rock 'n' roll's most unexpected and delightful treasures — and some of those extra, unlisted, and unexpected gems are even better than others. The hidden track is essentially a secret song — a free bonus with the purchase of an album that's not listed on the cover, in the liner notes, or on the record or compact disc itself. And that's intentional on the part of the artist. They aimed to play a good-natured prank on the audience or even offer a little gift to devoted fans or those listeners who just kept the album running after they thought it was all over.

Hidden tracks were utilized occasionally in the 1960s and 1970s but really took off as a practice in the 1990s with the widespread adoption of CDs. The unique, groove-based technology of vinyl records and the separate, digital track system of CDs allowed for the inclusion of extra tunes and audio surprises — should listeners know where to look. Sometimes people just stumbled upon them. The phenomenon pretty much died with streaming music and its visible-at-all-times playlists, so let's look back through rock history at the best-ever hidden tracks.

In 1966, The Beatles stopped touring. This allowed the band to focus its energies in the studio, where it got to work on a series of sonically experimental and inventive albums like "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band" and "Abbey Road." The latter 1969 LP included what could be considered rock 'n' roll's first hidden track.

At the very end of "Abbey Road" is "Her Majesty," a complete song that's not even 30 seconds long. Consisting of Paul McCartney singing and accompanying himself on acoustic guitar, it's a wry bit of satire, presented like a folk ballad. The narrator seems to boldly declare the Queen of England to be an objectionable person with few thoughts in her head, yet he loves her — but has to be drunk enough to tell her as much. Intended for the medley at the end of "Abbey Road" proper, "Her Majesty" was plucked out after it was recorded and placed on the LP on its own. It was added too late to include it on the official track listing.

The album "Every Picture Tells a Story" marked a commercial breakthrough in the life of Rod Stewart. Upon its original release in 1971, the sleeve and packaging claimed that the third track on the album was "That's All Right," a cover of a 1940s blues song whose most famous version was Elvis Presley's first ever single in 1954. But inside that section of groove isn't just one old chestnut, but two. It wasn't listed anywhere, so it's a hidden track, but just after "That's All Right" comes a powerful and understated reworking of the 18th-century hymn "Amazing Grace."

There's only guitar and vocals on the track, but it's a landmark of a collaboration. Well over half of the two-minute song — expressing joy over personal spiritual salvation — consists of a virtuosic slide guitar solo from Stewart's Faces bandmate Ronnie Wood. He delivers a passionate and bluesy performance that shows true reverence for that musical form. Stewart lets Wood's picking and plucking steal the show before he comes in with a raspy, subdued lyrical take on the well-known church song, and listeners can practically hear him smiling through the speakers.

In 1979, toward the end of recording "London Calling," The Clash arranged with U.K. rock magazine NME to include a flexi disc with an upcoming issue. Fans who purchased the album would've received a free flimsy record playable on standard turntables that included just one song. The promotion and giveaway ended up not happening, and so The Clash was left with that earmarked song, "Train in Vain," and nowhere to put it. Shuffling and insistent, with a jittery and propulsive drum beat and horn flourishes, "Train in Vain" was written over the span of a few hours and captured in a studio the following day. It's one of the catchiest, most danceable, and pop-oriented songs in the catalog of The Clash, often a serious, politically oriented punk band. 

It was so good that The Clash wanted to include it on "London Calling," and while it would have been possible to do so because the full LP hadn't been completely mastered yet, the packaging and album were already getting printed. Nevertheless, The Clash and their studio engineer, Bill Price, decided to pop "Train in Vain" at the very end of the master so it would fall last in the track order. Records were pressed from that and placed into the sleeves, making "Train in Vain" a hidden song in the form of an unlisted entry. It was later released as a single — officially titled "Train in Vain (Stand by Me)" — and hit No. 23 on the Billboard Hot 100 chart.

Nirvana is the '90s band that defined grunge, helping kick off that phenomenon with its 1991 album "Nevermind." Contained on the same track as the official album ender "Something in the Way," "Endless, Nameless" begins around nine minutes after the conclusion of this "final" song. It captures Nirvana in a raw and visceral form, recorded live with the whole band playing and lacking the sonic sheen and radio-ready polish that producer Butch Vig applied to much of "Nevermind." "Endless, Nameless" is a bitter, vitriolic, and exhausted rant of sentence fragments dealing with the concepts of violence and dying. It's full of some other hallmarks of Nirvana's incendiary live performances: Kurt Cobain smashed his guitar in the studio while making the song, which is drenched in various kinds of feedback. 

Cobain took inspiration for releasing "Endless, Nameless" as Nirvana did from The Beatles. He liked how the band had placed the brief and abrupt "Her Majesty" as a surprise at the end of "Abbey Road" in 1969, and he wanted to do something similar.

With his bands Camper Van Beethoven and Cracker, singer-songwriter David Lowery infused wry and caustic wit and a world-weary attitude into his distinctive brand of alternative rock. One of Cracker's most cynical tunes ever is "Euro-Trash Girl," appearing on the group's 1993 album "Kerosene Hat." The song details a man traveling through Europe, seeing the sights and meeting all kinds of interesting people, and in a subversion of the "wonders of travel" trope, he's repeatedly robbed and exploited. However, he remains unmoved from his fixation on the titular (and derided) woman of his dreams.

Unlisted on the reverse or in the liner notes, "Euro-Trash Girl" was one of three songs placed at the end of "Kerosene Hat." Naughtily assigned track No. 69 (following dozens of silent, four-second-long segments), Cracker issued the secret song as the LP's third single, following the hits "Low" and "Get Off This." It reached No. 25 on the Billboard alternative rock chart in 1994, alternative rock's best year ever, and helped fuel sales of "Kerosene Hat" to gold record status. Not bad for a song that didn't advertise or announce itself.