Let’s take a trip to a magical time called the 1990s. You just got home from Nobody Beats the Wiz with your favorite band’s new CD. It only cost $18.99. You open the shrink wrap and peel off that weird top label that always left adhesive on the jewel case. Unphased, you throw the album into your CD/cassette/radio (AM and FM!) player. You open up the CD booklet to read along with the lyrics. You dive headfirst into the album, familiarize yourself with the tracklist, and embark on a new musical adventure. After the last track, you get up, dejected that there are no more new songs to learn. You get up to stop the album and officially put it in it’s rightful place (in alphabetical order) in your CD tower. You’re about to press stop when you notice the last track is still playing. Could it be?....one more new song?....a hidden track!
If any part of that experience rings true for you, you know the pure joy, or agony, of discovering a hidden track on an album. They can take many forms – an impromptu jam that the band thought was cool, a funny outtake from the recording sessions, or a full length banger of a song that didn’t really fit the rest of the album’s feel. For our purposes, let’s define a hidden track as a song, outtake, skit, or otherwise entertaining track included on an album that isn’t listed on the official tracklist.
Most of modern music’s early hidden tracks were merely the results of production mistakes. The Beatles are credited with having the first, “Her Majesty,” a 26-second ditty by Paul McCartney on 1969’s Abbey Road. The story goes that Sir Paul hated the song and didn’t want it on the record, but the rest of the band liked it and did – so it was included but never made the original tracklisting on the album, making it “hidden.” Similarly, “Train in Vain” on London Calling by The Clash often gets treated as a secret track from a similar mishap. The song was a last minute addition to the record, but was not listed as one of its tracks. It turned out to be a good decision – the song is one of The Clash’s most recognizable hits.
While there are earlier examples, as noted above, the true golden era for hidden tracks was the early 1990s to early 2000s. How and why did this become such a phenomenon? One of the main reasons was that compact discs were the main medium through which music was consumed in one’s home. Cassette tapes and vinyl records were on their way out. Digital streaming, iTunes, and even early digital pirating (Napster bad) were still in their infancy. Most recordings didn’t reach the 80-minute limit for CDs, which left ample space at the end for them to include some Easter eggs for the lingering listener. The formatting of CDs also made them easier to manipulate to add the extra content at the beginning, during, or after the main songs on a given release.
While the formatting certainly helped, the question remains as to what inspired so many bands to include hidden tracks on their albums? Well, when the most significant release of the decade includes one, it starts to look like a really good idea. Nirvana’s 1991 musical landscape-altering Nevermind (ever heard of it?) includes a nearly 7-minute distortion filled track after the conclusion of “Something in the Way” that has since been titled “Endless, Nameless.” Featuring Kurt Cobain wailing some nearly indecipherable lyrics, it’s Nirvana in their purest, rawest form. The track itself is fine – nothing to write home about – but when the biggest band of the decade does something like this on the biggest record of the decade, it would be reasonable to believe that other bands would follow suit. And for roughly the next decade, that’s exactly what happened.
The 1990s and early 2000s spawned a number of albums with hidden tracks. Some were good, some were bad, some were weird, and some were just straight up vulgar. Some were even singles. We are going to look at some of the highlights and lowlights here and see what kinds of patterns emerge. Keep in mind that there were many more than this, but these are the ones most worthy of mention.
Objectively Bad
We might as well start with the worst of the bunch. We can qualify these songs as objectively bad swings and misses by two of the biggest bands of the ‘90s.
Alice in Chains – Love Song (Sap EP, 1991)
Sometime after the release of Facelift, Alice in Chains’ drummer Sean Kinney had a dream that the band had released an acoustic EP called Sap. So in 1991, the band did just that. Featuring four songs, including one with Chris Cornell on guest vocals (“Right Turn”), the EP is a well-written, mellow bridge between Facelift and Dirt that shows the band’s versatility.
After these four beautiful tracks, Alice in Chains gives us “Love Song,” which features the band switching up their usual instruments. Layne Staley plays the drums and Jerry Cantrell plays the bass. Drummer Sean Kinney mixes in some choppy piano, which is accompanied by members of the band making fart sounds, while Kinney shouts inane things about his gums bleeding through a megaphone. It is far and away the worst song Alice in Chains ever put on tape and the worst song we are going to discuss in this article. Many secret tracks are written with the purpose of being goofy and fun – this one is unfortunately neither.
Smashing Pumpkins – I’m Goin’ Crazy (Gish, 1991)
Gish, the first Smashing Pumpkins record, ends with a beautiful acoustic song called “Daydream,” one of the few songs in their catalog to feature bassist D’Arcy Wretzky on vocals. Clocking in at around 2 minutes, it was included on the band’s first demo with Corgan on vocals, but the band decided that D’Arcy’s version was “prettier and colder.” It serves as the perfect ending for a great debut album – or so we think.
Following around 20 seconds of silence, a hidden track called “I’m Goin’ Crazy” begins, featuring Corgan on vocals and repeating the line “I’m goin’ crazy,” mixed with a few other lyrics. The song lasts for about a minute, and it’s not terrible, save a cringe-worthy curse thrown in for no reason, but the question remains as to why this track was even necessary. In the 2011 reissue of Gish, Corgan claims that this track was intended as a joke, but the song plays more seriously than that. Could it be that he didn’t want any tracks on the album without him singing? A noted control freak, it’s a completely plausible theory, especially after he gave up lead vocals on the previous track. The inclusion of the song seems frivolous, at best. Even worse, “Daydream” would have been a beautiful, somber way to end the record. The inclusion of Corgan’s little joke confuses that feeling and leaves the listener scratching their head. Way to ruin it, Billy.
Parental Advisory
Sometimes, the hidden tracks found on your favorite albums were vulgar just for the sake of being vulgar. The next three tracks really earned these bands the parental advisory sticker, and based on their content they are fully warranted.
311 – Fuck the Bullshit (Music, 1993)
Built on their cult like following in the greater Nebraska area and renowned live shows, 311 released their major label debut Music in 1993. The rap/rock band from Omaha delivered a consistent set of songs with impressively tight musicianship and equally impressively immature lyrical content.
One of the staples of their famed live shows was a track titled “Fuck the Bullshit.” When recording Music, the band’s record label was rightfully hesitant about including a song with such a title on the album. To work around this problem, the band named the final track on the album “Fat Chance,” and placed “Fuck the Bullshit” as a hidden track after it. “Fat Chance” amounts to Nick Hexum and SA Martinez, the band’s drug dealer turned rapper, rhyming over a generic beat and shouting out Eddie Offord, a famed producer for ELP and Yes who somehow ended up producing their early albums. Once it ends, the band kicks into “Fuck the Bullshit,” with fat chance being what the band had to say about excluding the song from their debut album. The music is tight – the lyrics are not, and contains enough expletives to make you blush. Hexum summarizes the song, and 311, best in the track when he says “super dumb lyrics make you think I’m a clown, I don’t give a fuck, it’s time to throw down.” Exactly, Nick.
Blink 182 – Fuck a Dog (Take Off Your Pants and Jacket, 2001)
Blink 182’s fourth album, Take Off Your Pants and Jacket, maybe their most complete album, was released in 2001 with three separate versions with different color CDs: a red airplane, a pair of yellow pants, and a green jacket, to match with the circle graphics on the cover art. Depending on which version you purchased, you had the pleasure of hearing two hidden tracks on each for a total of six between the three versions of the album.
If you purchased the version with the yellow pants disc, then you’ve had the distinct pleasure of hearing the timeless classic “Fuck a Dog” as a hidden track. The song begins with a catchy, poppy riff and immediately shifts into Tom DeLonge asserting his desire to fornicate with a canine. The object of Tom’s desire shifts during the song from a mother to a father to a sister (with a cameo from a Mexican pirate), but alas: he could only find the dog. It’s par for the course for Blink – immaturity was their hallmark. Twenty some odd years later, the song is still pretty funny, especially if you’re not expecting it.
Tool – Maynard’s Dick (Salival, 2000)
Long before Tool was known for being that band that waited 13 years between releases, they had a string of excellent albums in the ‘90s, some of which will be discussed later. Salival isn’t one of them. It was released in 2000 as a sort of rarities compilation, featuring live and unreleased tracks, including a cover of Led Zeppelin’s “No Quarter” which actually worked its way into their live show at one point.
The crowning achievement on this album, however, is the hidden track that follows “L.A.M.C.,” which is basically the automated menu you’d hear when calling Los Angeles Municipal Court set to an ominous drum beat. About 30 seconds after it concludes, we hear the first chords of “Maynard’s Dick,” which – you guessed it - is a tribute to lead singer Maynard James Keenan’s wrench. Over Adam Jones’ acoustic guitar, Keenan asks the audience if they’d like to “glide a mile six inches at a time on Maynard’s dick.” The song eventually kicks in to the point where Maynard is screaming the song’s title over and over, but not before instructing the listener to “put it right on top of (their) forehead.” As ridiculous as this may seem, it is far and away the best song on this particular release, and is actually a well-written and hilarious song.
Musical Interludes
Another popular way bands worked in secret songs was to take a random jam or piece of music that didn’t fit into the album and throw it at the end (or beginning) of their latest release.
Days of the New – The Boner Track (Days of the New, 1997)
Travis Meeks and Days of the New are one of the all time saddest stories in the ‘90s music scene. Written when he was 17 years old, Days of the New’s eponymous first album (with the yellow cover), is one of the most impressive works of the era. Using exclusively acoustic guitar, Days of the New found a new angle for post-grunge which really worked with Meeks’ rugged vocals. The combination led to a string of successful singles on their first album. The good times would not last, unfortunately. Meeks would go on to fire his band after this album. He would release two more eponymous albums (green and red covers) under the Days of the New moniker, but none were as well written or successful as the first. Meeks himself would fall into drug addiction and Days of the New has remained inactive since 2001.
Following the conclusion of the final track of their first album, “Cling,” after some silence we get an entirely instrumental hidden track that has since been named “The Boner Track.” Which is exactly what a 17-year old boy would name a bonus track, because it’s hilarious. The track features the sound of a subtle thunderstorm underneath acoustic guitar and bongo drumming, which creates the perfect coda to a very underrated record.
Gin Blossoms – Barking Dog (Congratulations…I’m Sorry, 1996)
The Gin Blossoms second major label release Congratulations… I’m Sorry isn’t the classic that New Miserable Experience was, but it showed the band moving on with a strong collection of songs in the wake of the passing of their original guitarist Doug Hopkins. Hopkins was the creative force behind the Blossoms’ biggest hit, “Hey Jealousy.” He committed suicide in late 1993 only 2 weeks after receiving a gold record for his composition of the song. The title of the record in part refers to Hopkins’ death, as the band described it as the range of everything said to them since the release of their first album.
The album concludes with one of the best offerings the Blossoms have on this record, a somber song called “Competition Smile.” The song crescendos with some heart felt vocals from frontman Robin Wilson and fades out. We encounter 30 seconds of silence and are greeted by a disjointed, swingy jam that leads to, as the title implies, a dog barking over the guitars and drums. The dog actually nails the vocal line and the album concludes. It’s a bit of a throwaway track, and not really necessary, but I really just wanted to write about the Gin Blossoms – one of ‘90s rock’s most unheralded bands. Their first two albums are highly recommended for anyone reading this article.
311 – Transistor Intro (Transistor, 1997)
The best description of 311’s Transistor that I’ve ever heard is that it’s the product of a band with a bunch of good ideas that smoked entirely too much weed. If you’re familiar with 311 and their fan base, you’ll know that this is likely the case. Transistor is a unique release for many reasons. It features 21 tracks that show 311’s range as a band as it alternates between the rap rock they’re known for, the reggae that they’re influenced by, and many different styles in between. But for the purposes of our discussion, it’s unique for another reason: it features a hidden track in the pre-gap of the album’s first song, also named “Transistor.”
To get to the track, you need to hit play and rewind the CD for about 2 minutes. After you’ve done this, the track now known simply as “Transistor Intro” will begin to play. It starts out with some simple power chords and leads into a spacey solo from Tim Mahoney, which leads into Transistor pretty seamlessly. Although nothing great by 311’s standards, it sets the tone for the spaced-out contact high journey you’re about to take with the band.
Weirded Out
The next two artists featured in this category have a history of marching to the beat of their own drummer, even when its two of the best in the business.
Queens of the Stone Age – The Real Song for the Deaf (Songs for the Deaf, 2002)
Queens of the Stone Age – Feel Good Haha of the Summer (Songs for the Deaf, 2002)
Rising from the ashes of the stoner rock genre-defining band Kyuss, Queens of the Stone Age were launched to worldwide fame with their quasi-concept album Songs for the Deaf in 2002. The album tries to replicate the experience of driving through the desert and flipping through radio stations with various interludes featuring members of the band posing as DJs introducing tracks. Josh Homme, the band’s guitarist and primary singer, enlisted the help of Dave Grohl on drums and Mark Lanegan of Screaming Trees on guest vocals to create what is still to this day the band’s best album.
The album also features three hidden tracks. The first, “The Real Song for the Deaf,” is another pre-gap track that forces the listener to rewind the CD. The song begins with a computerized voice saying “Huh? What?” and proceeds with about 90 seconds of sounds and bass delivered at a frequency which would allow deaf people to feel the vibrations. The sounds were allegedly produced by the band rubbing a balloon on a microphone to get the proper frequency. The track leads perfectly into the sound of a car’s ignition starting at the start of “You Think I Ain’t Worth a Dollar,” and the album begins.
The next hidden track on Songs for the Deaf is actually a reprise of a song from the band’s sophomore effort Rated R. On that album, the Queens recorded a song called “Feel Good Hit of the Summer” which features Homme repeating the names of illicit drugs over a heavy bass riff. The song is later reprised on Rated R after a softer track called “In the Fade.” On Songs for the Deaf, we get another reprise of this song with the lyrics replaced with maniacal laughing on “Feel Good Haha of the Summer,” which appears after the last listed track, “Song for the Deaf.” That’s two reprises if you’re keeping score at home.
Both tracks are plenty weird – but neither are the best hidden track on the album. We’ll get to that, and more from Josh, later on.
Tool – The Gaping Lotus Experience (Opiate EP, 1992)
Tool – Disgustipated (Undertow, 1993)
If you want to talk weird, Tool and Maynard are right at the forefront. We’ve already covered a song he wrote about his dick. He also routinely painted himself blue or dressed up as Robocop before going on stage during this era due to stage fright. The band itself is known for odd Claymation videos, albums based on the Fibonacci sequence, and songs about L. Ron Hubbard, Carl Jung and the shadow achetype, and California breaking off of the United States and floating into the Pacific. Weird may not be a strong enough description.
Back in ’92, from the first EP (Opiate), the band showed itself to embrace their eclectic personality with a hidden track following the title song of the album called “The Gaping Lotus Experience.” The song begins with Maynard explaining that his friend took some acid and now thinks he’s a fire engine. Another friend took ecstasy and trying to hump his La-Z-Boy. Keenan laments that he’s getting bored again, and the song ends. Maynard’s friends sound like a bad time.
On their 1993 full-length debut Undertow, Tool pushes the envelope a bit more with a pretty insufferable 15-minute secret track called “Disgustipated.” Starting with bizarre animal sounds, the song shifts to Keenan doing his best televangelist impression, followed by chants of “Life feeds on life, this is necessary” over a mechanical beat. The chants continue for an unnecessary amount of time, until we are mercifully greeted with a faint buzz for the remaining 10 minutes of the song. On the original CD version, once the chants end, the CD rifles through tracks up to the number 69 before the album ends. Hilarious! On second thought, maybe this should’ve been included in the first section of the article. All-time bad track.
South of the Border
Though not the most popular method for hidden tracks, bands would sometimes throw a curveball with tracks in a foreign language. For the two examples below, they chose Spanish, with mixed results.
Beastie Boys – El Rey y Yo (Hello Nasty, 1998)
The Beastie Boys always put out albums that had a little bit of everything on them: some rap, some rock, some bizarre interludes. They were also notorious for sampling; so much so that the copyright laws needed to be rewritten after their 1989 classic Paul’s Boutique was released. Their 1998 classic Hello Nasty included all of these, with a surprise hidden track in the midst of the first few tracks of the album. In between the second and third tracks of the album, “The Move” and “Remote Control,” the band snuck a sample of “El Rey y Yo” by the Los Angeles Negros in the pre-gap to track 3. As the CD moves from track 2 to 3, the time of the 40-second track appears in the negative as it plays, counting down to 0:00 before the beginning of “Remote Control.” The incredibly catchy sample works very well as a bridge between the tracks, like most things the Beasties did. I can’t tell you what it means but I can sing every word for you.
Cherry Poppin’ Daddies – Zoot Suit Riot [Spanish] (Zoot Suit Riot, 1997)
There was maybe a 4-month window in the ‘90s where swing bands were popular again. It shortly followed the ska window, which we all miss very dearly. The awfully-named Cherry Poppin’ Daddies were a swing outfit out of Portland, Oregon that released their one hit “Zoot Suit Riot” during this smallest of small windows when they could have been popular. Released on a best-of compilation (??), the album features a Spanish version of “Zoot Suit Riot” as a hidden track after the album’s alleged conclusion. The song is exactly the same, except lead singer Steve Perry (not that one) sings every lyric in Spanish, save the song’s namesake. Estas a Zoot Suit Riot, indeed, Steve Perry. Only in the ‘90s.
Do It A Cappella
We’ve had musical interludes without vocals already, so why not some vocals without music? I’m told that in the business, we call that “a cappella.”
Hootie and the Blowfish – Motherless Child (Cracked Rear View, 1994)
Hailing from Charleston, South Carolina, Hootie and the Blowfish started out as a college bar band. Their debut album Cracked Rear View sold over 21 million copies, making it one of the most commercially successful albums of all time. Carried by four massive singles, the band was launched into heavy rotation on MTV and pop radio. While they would never reach this pinnacle of success again with any future releases, Cracked Rear View is a classic album that plays through flawlessly and stands the test of time.
The album concludes with a gorgeous piano track titled “Goodbye.” Lead singer Darius Rucker’s unique, soulful voice shines through in many parts of the album, but mostly on this final track. Following some silence, we get a 40-second a cappella hidden track where Rucker repeats the line “Sometimes I feel like a motherless child.” The track showcases the lead singer’s strong voice and ends the album on a hauntingly somber note. A great ending to a great album.
Alanis Morissette – Your House (Jagged Little Pill, 1995)
Around the same time that Hootie was dominating the charts off the success of their debut, Alanis Morissette burst onto the alternative scene with her first worldwide release called Jagged Little Pill. The album’s angsty first single, “You Oughta Know,” catapulted the young Canadian singer/songwriter into the mainstream limelight. There would be 5 subsequent singles released from Jagged Little Pill, including “Ironic” and its iconic music video. The album has sold 33 million copies worldwide and, like Cracker Rear View, is one of the best-selling records of all time. Morissette’s incredible vocals carry the album regardless of lyrical content, which varies from scorn for a former lover to current affections and everywhere in between - a classic record from an incredibly talented songstress.
The album’s last track is a remixed version of “You Oughta Know.” As the remix concludes, we’re met with a minute of silence, before Alanis begins in on an a cappella number titled “Your House.” It was originally written with guitar parts, however, the producer and singer decided it sounded better solely as a vocal track. The song follows Alanis as she asks her beau if he would forgive her for a number of misgivings, mostly focused around her sneaking into his house and using all of the amenities. Midway through, Alanis realizes her beau is now her former beau, as he went to meet another lady at midnight. The lyrics turn mournful. Her isolated vocals are hauntingly powerful as she asks her now former lover if he would forgive her if she cried all afternoon, a feeling we can all identify with. She probably should’ve called first. The track provides a beautiful display of Morissette’s incredible voice and could have easily been included as a regular track on the album – but actually works better with only vocals.
Lounge Act
Sometimes, the artist would go for a whole new style…
Kyuss – Lick Doo (Welcome to Sky Valley, 1994)
Long before Josh Homme was the face of Queens of the Stone Age, he was the guitarist in a band named Kyuss. Kyuss formed in Palm Desert, California in the late 1980s and went on to release four albums which defined the genre of “stoner rock,” which the likes of Monster Magnet and countless others would try to replicate throughout the 1990s. The band gained popularity in the desert through generator parties, where they would stage a concert in the desert with the help of generators to plug in their amps and microphones. The band achieved their unique, fuzzed out sound that through lower tunings and manipulations of bass amplifiers.
Welcome to Sky Valley, the band’s third album, is a cult classic in the metal scene, alongside it’s predecessor, 1992’s Blues for the Red Sun. These two albums represent the best that Kyuss has to offer in their catalogue. Welcome to Sky Valley concludes with “Whitewater,” a heavy riffed, heartfelt lyrical song with an awesome, extended jam to conclude the record. Following shortly after is a hidden track written in a lounge style sung by lead singer John Garcia entitled “Lick Doo.” For about a minute, Garcia abandons his usual course vocal style and croons to a potential suitor that they “can and will lick his big fat doo.” Sources are confused on exactly what this means, but if taken literally, it amounts to Kyuss telling the audience to eat shit. The song is unexpected and weird – which is about right for Homme and company – and is sharp contrast to the majesty of “Whitewater.” Which might be the point, as the band never took themselves very seriously and were in their early 20s when recording this masterpiece.
Stone Temple Pilots – My Second Album (Purple, 1994)
When asked why the Stone Temple Pilots titled their second album Purple, lead singer Scott Weiland was quoted as saying it was “because it sounds fucking purple.” After the success of their debut album Core, STP was looking to distance themselves from similar grunge acts after constant comparisons, specifically to Pearl Jam. They achieved this goal with Purple, which showed the band displaying a more diverse set of songs that balance the hard driving guitar riffs and vocals they showed on their debut with acoustic and stripped down numbers that work just as well.
The album concludes with “Kitchenware and Candybars,” a song in the stripped down acoustic style described above. Over acoustic guitar, Weiland softly delivers wistful lyrics about being last to know and being sold down the river, before the rest of the band kicks in. The rest of the band eventually kicks in to the track which peaks at its end. It remains one of STP’s most underrated contributions.
Approximately a minute later, we are met with something completely different. Piano and horns lead into a lounge style track, leading off with the lyrics “The second album…twelve gracious melodies,” which explains why the back cover art of the album displays the same phrase written on a cake. The song plays on for three minutes, mentioning an old time singer named Johnny Mathis for an entire verse, and concluding with the crooner signing about this being the second album. Bizarre, but appropriate.
Upon further research, the song was written and performed by a guy named Richard Peterson. This song, titled “Second Album” is the first song on his second album, creatively titled The Second Album. The story goes that Dean DeLeo, STP’s guitarist, saw a picture of Peterson with Johnny Mathis on a radio station wall and asked about who he was. Upon discovering Peterson’s discography, the band took a liking to his records and would play them prior to going on stage. When it came time to throw in something extra on their second album, STP had the perfect song in mind to describe it: “Listen to…. twelve great tunes” - including the secret one.
Harbingers
At other times, they might be trying to show you what’s to come in the future…
Reel Big Fish – Cool Ending (Turn the Radio Off, 1996)
As alluded to before, there was a brief time in the mid ‘90s when ska was all the rage for about 8 months. After the breakthrough success of No Doubt, bands like Reel Big Fish and the Mighty Mighty Bosstones were able to put out singles which entered the top 20 of popular music and all seemed right with the world. Reel Big Fish were able to do so on the heels of their greatest hit, “Sell Out,” during which lead singer Aaron Barrett daydreams about quitting his fast-food job to become a rock star. The band endeared fans with their use of humor, during their songs and live show, which led to a significant run of major label albums which received less and less airplay as the third ska wave sadly faded.
Turn the Radio Off is far and away the band’s best effort – a great album that’s equal parts funny and rocking without a weak track. The album’s last song, “Alternative, Baby,” ends with one last horn note before we’re met with two minutes of dead air. Known as “Cool Ending” originally, the hidden track on Turn the Radio Off eventually became “I’m Cool” on the next Reel Big Fish album titled, in perfect RBF fashion, Why Do They Rock So Hard? Barrett is solo on the hidden track, shredding an acoustic guitar and proclaiming that you know he’s cool when all the guys want to be his friend and all the girls want to hold his hand – but quickly laments that he stole all of his songs and he’s probably going to be sued. The song is perfectly tongue-in-cheek, like most of the band’s songs. Barrett then instructs the listener to “turn the radio off,” concluding the best album the third wave of ska had to offer.
Queens of the Stone Age – Mosquito Song (Songs for the Deaf, 2002)
We’ve finally arrived at the third hidden track from Songs for the Deaf. Tucked away after “Feel Good Haha of the Summer,” “Mosquito Song” features some impressive acoustic guitar work from Alain Johannes, a long-time Queens of the Stone Age contributor. Set under the hot sun, Josh Homme serenades us about mosquitos coming to suck our blood. Describing humanity as “all of us food, that hasn’t died,” the song is not exactly uplifting. It’s haunting and brooding melody leads us to an orchestral interlude, before a reprise of the demoralizing chorus mentioned above. Despite the song’s grim nature, this is one of the best hidden tracks of the entire era and could have easily been featured on the album’s actual tracklist.
More so, the lyrics of “Mosquito Song” give us a peek into the future. During the second verse, Homme asks “Where will you run? Where will you hide?” and follows with a simple rhyme: “lullabies to paralyze…” The phrase would be used as the title of the next Queens of the Stone Age album, released in 2005.
Subjectively Good
Finally, and rarely, the band would put some of their best work at the end of the album and not even list it as a track.
Eels – Mr. E’s Beautiful Blues (Daisies of the Galaxy, 2000)
If you aren’t familiar with Eels, you probably aren’t alone. The band’s first hit was a song called “Novocaine for the Soul” released in 1996. The memorable black and white video for the song got significant airplay on MTV. Frontman Mark Oliver Everett, the main creative force behind Eels, sings about the boredom of everyday life, a common theme in the ‘90s, and Jesus and his lawyer coming back while the band members levitate and play their instruments.
The band’s second biggest hit, “Mr. E’s Beautiful Blues,” came approximately four years later off of their album Daisies of the Galaxy. Though the band released it as their lead single, the song is nowhere to be found on the tracklisting of the record. Everett had placed it as a hidden track on the album as a joke of sorts. The bandleader must find poor marketing to be very funny, as there really aren’t any other worthwhile songs on this album. In hindsight, Mr. E may want a mulligan on releasing the band’s second best song as a hidden track. Regardless, this is the first case we’ve seen of a hidden track being released as a single, and a successful one at that.
Everclear – Hating You for Christmas (So Much for the Afterflow, 1997)
Art Alexakis and Everclear from Portland, Oregon put out two of the most underappreciated albums of the ‘90s: Sparkle and Fade and So Much for the Afterglow. The former gained the band popularity in the mainstream, mostly from the hit single “Santa Monica.” That set the stage for the latter album to be set up for success from the beginning with a slew of popular singles, including “Everything to Everyone,” “I Will Buy You a New Life,” and “Father of Mine.” Commercially, So Much for the Afterglow is Everclear’s most successful record and probably their most complete effort as a band. Like many of the other bands we’ve discussed, they would never replicate that success.
The last song on the album, “Like a California King,” is criminally underrated. Art reflects on himself and writes the song from the perspective of an outsider skeptically lamenting Everclear’s success. “watch[ing] them burn like a California king.” The song climaxes with Art wailing “What makes you think you are better than me?” before the song fades out and with the antagonist “watch[ing] [Art] burn like a California king.”
After a minute of dormancy, perhaps the best hidden track of this era emerges with the sound of Christmas bells. For a moment, the listener might think they’re going to hear a nice cover of a holiday classic. Those thoughts are quickly erased when Art starts in: “Thanks for the Christmas card!” He launches into a number of things he doesn’t want to her about from his ex: her new car, her new boyfriend, everything working out for her, her swinging new place, and how everyone thinks it’s great. Eventually, Art admits that he’s actually depressed by all of this (you’d never guess it) and wishes he could have a drink and make these memories disappear. “Hating You for Christmas” builds on the energy of “Like a California King” and is one of the best songs on this album, while also providing a holiday classic for the dumped.
The End of an Era
As you can see, the hidden tracks from this era are a really mixed bag. Regardless of quality, the best part of these kinds of songs is that they allow the band to show a bit of their personalities to make you laugh, cry, or be flat out disgusted. In some cases, the results are hilarious, while in others, it makes you glad that you don’t know the band personally. Judge for yourself by listening to this playlist of the songs discussed in this article here. Most songs are present on streaming services, but some still remain unavailable, even on YouTube.
Since the dawn of the digital music era, the hidden track has become a thing of the past. It’s much harder to hide a track in a system where everything is labeled. Some of these tracks still exist as intended on streaming services like Spotify, but you already know they’re coming in most cases. The resurgence of vinyl has seen these tracks either listed on the back or cut from the records completely for space considerations. New albums and reissues are often marketed as having bonus tracks, but again, we know those are coming. And they were usually left off the original issue of the album for a reason (they stink).
Sadly, the hidden track is likely a thing of the past. Some artists, like Jack White, have hidden tracks in their vinyl if you know where to find them, but the ease of access from the CD in the era we’ve discussed added the element of surprise that makes these tracks great. As far as nostalgia goes, it didn’t get better than realizing your favorite band snuck on an extra track under the guise of the album being over. Hearing them today, listeners can reminisce about the first time they sat and listened to their favorite album the whole way through.
I still laugh every time I hear that awful Richard Peterson song at the end of Purple. And I think that’s exactly the way the band intended it to be.
