Gimme Shelter
Merry Clayton's voice cracking on "murder" is the sound of the sixties ending, mid-take, in one syllable.
Merry Clayton's voice cracking on "murder" is the sound of the sixties ending, mid-take, in one syllable.

Nine questions, no answers, and the song the civil rights movement adopted whole and never gave back.
Faithfull handed Jagger Bulgakov, Richards turned the folk sketch into samba and played both bass and the solo.
Called Walpurgis until the label balked at the witchcraft, and Butler aimed the lyric at politicians who start wars.

Zeppelin played Reykjavik in 1970, and Plant came back with Vikings, Valhalla, and that double-tracked wail.

Simon learned it from Martin Carthy in London; Garfunkel wound an anti-war lyric through the ballad as counterpoint.
Steve Nieve's piano lifts its shimmer from "Dancing Queen," and Costello's biggest UK hit smuggles Belfast into a singalong.

McCready's riff was a Ten outtake, and Vedder improvised a lyric he has been rewriting onstage ever since.

Armstrong spent two months doubting the lyrics until Cavallo pushed him; it went to number one on modern rock radio.

A chorus close enough to All the Young Dudes that Bowie got a writing credit, and Butch Vig produced.

Rice-Oxley built it from Yeats's poem about an Irish airman, a pilot too high up to hear the guns below.