(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction
Keith dreamt the fuzz riff, taped it half-asleep, and woke up holding the sound of teenage frustration.
Keith dreamt the fuzz riff, taped it half-asleep, and woke up holding the sound of teenage frustration.
Maseo's cackle, Danger Mouse at the desk, and a song Albarn dreamed up driving past California windmills toward Coachella.

Sixteen years old, the lyrics done in half an hour, the title from a 1976 photo of George Brett.

Yorke came straight from a Jeff Buckley gig, sang three takes at RAK, then burst into tears.

Frusciante drew the sparse riff from The Cure's "Carnage Visors" on his first album back, and Kiedis indicts Hollywood.

Denied the Lauryn Hill sample, West had Syleena Johnson sing the part, and got his first solo top ten.

Nina Hagen handed Kiedis a jacket from her closet, and Frusciante ran his solo backwards over Flea's jam-session riff.

Mitchell threw back a Hawaii hotel curtain, saw mountains above a parking lot, and wrote pop's sunniest protest song.
Projected onto sixty-six buildings worldwide before anyone had heard it, with Frank Ocean closing over a Hungarian prog sample.

Beck cut that riff himself through a broken twenty-watt amp while the Dust Brothers stacked Purdie drums beneath it.
Joplin cut this satirical prayer for luxury goods a cappella in one take, three days before she died.

A looping saxophone, a software test engineer named Wanz on the hook, and six weeks atop the Hot 100.

Ric Wake heard the demo, played it for Lopez, and both loved it; it went to number one in Britain.

Rasted got the idea at a Danish kitsch exhibition, and Mattel's trademark suit lost to the parody defense.