You know that song “Come Tomorrow” by the Yardbirds? Sure you do. It has Keith Reif’s yearning chorus, “Come tomorrow – will I be older – Come tomorrow – maybe a soldier – Come tomorrow – will I be bolder – Than today,” over Jeff Beck’s innovative feedback. Cool song, all the way around.
But real Yardbirders know it’s not called “Come Tomorrow,” even though Reif sings that phrase more than anything, and it forms the spine of the chorus. It’s really called “Maybe a Soldier,” a less prominent piece of the chorus. It's kind of a sly counterstep for all of us uneducated fans who just assume whatever the singer sings the most will naturally be the song’s title. Very counter-culture of the Yardbirds, don’t you think?
OK – before all my fellow aging hippies start penning letters to the Times or venting on Reddit, or wherever we all now go to express outrage, I will end this charade and admit I do know the Yardbirds classic is not called either of those names. It’s “Shapes of Things.” (Honestly.) That is the opening line of the song. I guess Reif and company didn’t feel like exerting any further energy in titling the thing so they just named it after the first line. That’s what W. S. Gilbert used to do in all those Gilbert & Sullivan operettas, and if it was good enough for him, well, I suppose it was good enough for the Yardbirds.
A dozen songs with titles that sometimes confuse and confound fans
I further suppose, being psychedelic rockers, they were also paying homage to H.G. Wells’ seminal futurist novel The Shape of Things to Come, written a few decades earlier. Wells absolutely would have been a psychedelic metalhead had such a thing existed in the 1930s. So I think it’s a good title for the song – just a wee bit confusing. And that is what we are talking about today. Obscure song titles. The ones where you think it’s called something else.
Here are the criteria for today’s list. The title has to be an actual lyric in the song. So we’re not choosing “A Simple Desultory Philippic” because Paul Simon never sings those words. (No one ever would.) Nor are we choosing “Brain Stew,” which you may know as “On My Own, Here We Go,” since that’s what Billie Joe Armstrong keeps singing in the chorus.
And we’re not picking quirky little twist titles like “Mary Jane’s Last Dance,” which might have been “Last Dance With Mary Jane,” had Tom Petty not been such a contrarian, or “What’s Up,” had Linda Perry not been concerned audiences would confuse her 4 Non Blondes hit with Marvin Gaye’s “What’s Going On?”
All right – enough of what the list isn’t. Here’s what it is.
“ROCK & ROLL STEW” by Traffic (1971)
What it might have been called: “Gone, Gone, Gone”
Not only does Jim Capaldi sing the phrase “gone, gone, gone” way more than the title lyrics “rock & roll stew” (by my count, it’s about a twelve-to-one ratio), but the opening riff of the entire song is the “gone, gone, gone” melody. The title lyrics, on the other hand, are the final words of the final verse. Kind of sneaking it in right at the wire, if you ask me.
“THE STORY IN YOUR EYES” by The Moody Blues (1971)
What it might have been called: “Listen to the Tide Slowly Turning”
OK – Justin Heyward doesn’t exactly sing “Listen the tide slowly turning” as many times as Capaldi sings “gone, gone, gone.” He only sings it twice. But it is the first line of the chorus. “The story in your eyes” is buried in the middle of the second verse. Still, I think this was a good choice. “The story in your eyes” has a certain poetry about it. “Listen to the tide slowly turning” is a pedantic command. And the Moody Blues could get kind of pedantic.
“VINCENT” by Don Mclean (1972)
What it might have been called: “Starry, Starry Night”
Everybody knew “American Pie” was called “American Pie.” It was all over the chorus. Nobody knew Don Mclean’s follow-up was called “Vincent,” in honor of its subject, Vincent Van Gogh. The lyrics “starry, starry night” lead off each verse. Vincent has two obscure references in two separate verses. I think this one probably should have gone with the popularly mistaken title.
“LONG TRAIN RUNNIN’” by The Doobie Brothers (1973)
What it might have been called: “Without Love”
Or, “Without Love, Where Would You Be Now.” That was the chorus. Tom Johnson sings those lyrics about ten times. He sings the phrase “long trains runnin’” in the middle of the first verse. It’s not even technically the title since he pluralizes the “trains.” But I gotta say, I’m pretty much a sucker for all pre-Michael McDonald Doobie Brothers’ music, so I’m Ok with this title. It’s pretty cool, actually.
“LONG TALL GLASSES” by Leo Sayer (1974)
What it might have been called: “I Can Dance”
I’m not including any parenthetical titles on this list. You know, like C + C Music’s “Gonna Make You Sweat (Everybody Dance Now)” or Rupert Murdoch’s “Escape (The Pina Colada Song).” The ones where they stick the commonly assumed titles into parentheses. I figure you gotta go with your gut. If you want to call it “Escape” because you think “The Pina Colada Song” is a stupid name, chances are you’re right.
But I could swear that even though Leo Sayer’s hit is commonly referred to as “I Can Dance” in parens today when it was released, it just went by “Long Tall Glasses.” I’m sure one of you has a copy of Just a Boy lying around somewhere and can confirm or deny this for me. BTW – I think the same thing may apply to “Gonna Make You Sweat,” but I’m not as sure about that one.
“SIR DUKE” by Stevie Wonder (1976)
What it might have been called: “You Can Feel It All Over”
Stevie sings some version of the phrase “feel it all over” about a thousand times. He sings “Sir Duke,” a reference to Duke Ellington, once in the middle of a verse. The bottom line – it’s Stevie Wonder. He can do whatever the hell he wants. It’s going to be a smarter decision than any I would make.
“SECOND HAND NEWS” by Fleetwood Mac (1976)
What it might have been called: “Lay Me Down in the Tall Grass”
“Let Me Do My Stuff” sounds a little too generically vulgar, but the “tall grass” title could have worked. That’s as close to a chorus as you’ll find in the opening track of Rumours, one of the titanic albums in rock & roll history. “I’m just second news” just shows up in the outro, and though it is oft-repeated, it comes during the fade-out. Somehow, as with all of Rumours, that suits the tone of the break-up album perfectly.
“THREE LITTLE BIRDS” by Bob Marley & the Wailers (1977/1980)
What it might have been called: “Every Little Thing is Gonna Be All Right”
“Don’t Worry About a Thing,” the opening words that are repeated throughout Marley‘s song, were kind of usurped by Stevie Wonder’s “Don’t You Worry ‘Bout a Thing” a few years earlier. The second half of the catchy chorus could have been the title – a lot of people assume it is. But I like “Three Little Birds.” As with “Story in Your Eyes” or “Long Train Runnin’,” it just has more poetry. When it was eventually released as a single three years after it appeared on an album, it became one of the Wailers' biggest hits.
“BRASS IN POCKET” by The Pretenders (1979)
What it might have been called: “Gonna Use My Arms”
And that’s just the pre-chorus. There were lots of titles Chrissie Hynde and James Honeyman-Scott could have chosen for one of their first singles. Apparently, a lot of people also know it as “I’m Special.” “Brass in pocket” just shows up once in the opening verse. It’s catchy slang for having some money to spend, and as such, it becomes a logical first in the list of things Hynde plans to use to get “some of your attention.”
“TOUCH OF GREY” by The Grateful Dead (1987)
What it might have been called: “I Will Get By”
The highest-charting Dead song ever. Lyricist Robert Hunter was a Californian who was said to be distantly related to Scottish poet Robert Burns. Perhaps that’s why the Dead opted for the traditional English spelling “grey” instead of “gray.” As with a lot of Hunter's lyrics, there is a subtlety and wit to his words, which almost slips by unnoticed.
He hides the title in a middle verse, “Every silver lining’s got a touch of grey,” and then brings it back in a totally different context toward the end – “Oh well, a touch of grey – Kind of suits you anyway.” Did I ever tell you about when I tried writing a song? One of the lines went, “Feel so lonely I could die – Think I’ll eat some more peach pie.” So, I’ll defer to Hunter.
“LAZY EYE’ by Silversun Pickups (2006)
What it might have been called: “I’ve Been Waiting”
There’s not really a chorus in Silversun Pickups’ first single. It’s kind of a verse-bridge-outro surrounded by jagged guitars. “I’ve Been Waiting” is the opening lyric, which is repeated a couple of times. I initially figured that was the name. I would never have guessed it was “Lazy Eye,” which Brian Aubert just kind of rushes through in the middle of a verse. I suppose that’s more prominent than the title of the next hit they scored – “Well Thought-Out Twinkles,” which I don’t think shows up in the lyrics at all.
“LITTLE LION MAN” by Mumford & Sons (2009)
What it might have been called: “Not Your Fault But Mine”
I would have preferred “Not Your Fault But Mine.” I think that would have been catchy, and it kicks off the chorus. “Little lion man” is slipped into the middle of the verse. It’s repeated once, but it’s not nearly as prominent as the “not your fault…” phrase. Still, in a beautifully scripted song with simple-sounding lyrics that belie a more serious examination of self-reproach, the cryptic title is a solid choice. We don’t know for sure who the “little lion man” is. A father’s son? A younger version of Marcus Mumford’s narrator? Kind of makes you think.
Which, I suppose, isn’t such a bad tack for a song title to take. I mean, they can’t all be “Love Me Do,” right?