Born to Run
Months of wall-of-sound overdubs poured into one getaway car, and every word still sounds like escape.
Months of wall-of-sound overdubs poured into one getaway car, and every word still sounds like escape.

Redding cut the vocal three days before the plane crash, and Cropper finished it into the first posthumous American number one.

One chord, no changes, Sumlin's guitar circling, and Wolf's howl answering the trains whose sparks named the song.

Dylan recut it in Minneapolis with his brother producing, then spent decades rewriting a story already told out of order.

Bombs Over Baghdad at 155 beats per minute, drum and bass colliding with a gospel choir and a guitar solo.

One man, one electric guitar, no band; the Chess single that later named a magazine and a British group.

Collins's chords sat unused for two years until Van Zant found the melody; the long outro was his onstage rest.
Browne could not finish the second verse, Frey did, and Leadon's double-time banjo drives the Eagles' debut single.

Two days of writing with Jeff Lynne, Mike Campbell's twelve-string, and Ventura Boulevard turned into the whole San Fernando Valley.

Petty cut it on the Fourth of July, 1976, and Roger McGuinn heard the Byrds so clearly he covered it.

Taylor on bass, Jimmy Miller drumming the coda, and a lyric Jagger got from a housekeeper who played dice.
Johnson's 1936 triplet figure run through an amplifier, Sonny Boy Williamson on harmonica, and a riff everybody stole.

Hunter's lyric folds in a 1970 New Orleans bust, and the Library of Congress declared the record a national treasure.

Sub Pop pressed it as a one-off single in 2001; three years later Garden State made it a generational password.
Ernie Maresca offered it to Nino and the Ebb Tides first; buried as a B-side, it went to number two.

Mike Campbell's fuzz riff, then a closing solo of nearly two minutes he nailed in a single take.

H.C. Speir set up the June 1929 session, and Patton's first Paramount release still sounds like the Delta's starting point.
Cut in two New York studios in June 1969, with Mordor and Gollum folded into a restless road song.

Ezrin cut an eight-minute jam down to three, and John Lydon mimed along to it to join the Sex Pistols.
Densmore's bossa nova drum feel, Krieger's riff borrowed from a Butterfield blues cover, and a refrain their producer censored.