Top 100 Beatles Solo Songs From the ’70s

The Beatles made their split official in 1970, patching together Let It Be for May release from sessions dating back more than a year. By then, Ringo Starr had already released a solo album of standards called Sentimental Journey. Paul McCartney‘s homespun McCartney was on store shelves, too.

George Harrison released his magnum opus, All Things Must Pass, in November 1970. John Lennon‘s widely heralded Plastic Ono Band arrived a month later. The Beatles solo era was off to a fast start.

The next decade offered Harrison and Starr a long-hoped-for opportunity to shine after so long in the shadows of the Lennon/McCartney songwriting juggernaut.

READ MORE: 20 Beatles Songs That John Lennon Hated

Harrison’s first single, “My Sweet Lord,” became a platinum-selling No. 1 hit. “Give Me Love (Give Me Peace on Earth),” his fourth single, also topped the Hot 100. Starr spun off six straight U.S. Top 10 singles, including a pair of chart-toppers with “Photograph” and “You’re Sixteen,” before his solo career cooled.

McCartney began with a pair of Top 5 singles, including 1971’s No. 1 smash “Uncle Albert/Admiral Halsey” but didn’t notch another chart-topper until his new group hit with 1973’s “My Love.” Wings would become a juggernaut: Every one of their 23 singles reached the U.S. Top 40, with 14 Top 10 songs and six No. 1 hits.

The late Lennon’s lone decade as a solo artist had its ups and downs, but he emerged with a sturdy legacy before being gunned down in 1980 by a deranged fan. The gold-selling “Instant Karma” and multi-platinum “Imagine” both became Top 5 hits, while “Whatever Gets You Thru the Night” soared to the top of the Hot 100.

As shown in the following list of Top 100 Beatles Solo Songs From the ’70s, choice deeper cuts also helped propel their albums to platinum-selling status. By the time their second decade apart began, each had firmly established a legacy of their own.

 

No. 100. “Heart of the Country”
Paul McCartney, Ram (1971)

If the opening song on Side Two of Ram sounds like it burst from an idyllic rural hillside, that’s because, well, it did. “Heart of the Country” celebrated the quiet life Paul McCartney made for himself with Linda McCartney at High Peak Farm in Kintyre, Scotland, far away from mobs of fans – and it did so in an appropriately simple way: McCartney only used six of the available 16 tracks at CBS Studios in New York, with future Wings co-founder Denny Seiwell playing a homemade drum kit constructed from a nearby plastic trashcan.

No. 99. “Cookin’ (In the Kitchen of Love)”
Ringo Starr, Ringo’s Rotogravure (1976)

Ringo Starr released seven consecutive Top 10 U.S. singles between 1971-75, including back-to-back No. 1s in 1973 — the bulk of which had the fingerprints of his former bandmates on them. But as they endured a mid-’70s creative decline, whatever table scraps the former Fabs had for Starr became increasingly difficult to warm over. In keeping, George Harrison and McCartney contributed songs to Ringo’s Rotogravure but not necessarily the best ones. “Cookin’ (In the Kitchen of Love),” however, was something worth celebrating: The best song on a disappointing album also featured John Lennon’s only released sessions work during a five-year late-’70s-era hiatus. Even as Starr’s solo career took a dive, he could still serve as a catalyst.

No. 98. “Daytime Nighttime Suffering”
Paul McCartney b-side (1979)

At one point, this approachable ode to female empowerment was scheduled as the a-side on a stand-alone single that introduced what became the final edition of Wings. Things were still so loose that the McCartneys’ infant son James can be heard crying on the released song just after the two-minute mark. Then McCartney decided to replace “Daytime Nighttime Suffering” with “Goodnight Tonight.” His commercial instincts were correct: “Goodnight Tonight” went to No. 5 in America and the U.K. – even if “Daytime Nighttime Suffering” is the better song.

No. 97. “Tomorrow”
Wings, Wild Life (1971)

For all of their future successes, Wings did not immediately take off. Their debut album was widely panned and barely crept into the U.S. Top 10 – a steep drop off from the chart-topping platinum sales of McCartney’s first two post-Beatles albums. Still, Wild Life wasn’t without its miniature charms. No McCartney album ever is. “Tomorrow,” featuring a guest turn on backing vocals from Beatles engineer Alan Parsons, is both an album highpoint and a bit of a cheat. The track was actually begun in the summer of 1970, between McCartney and Ram – well before the Wild Life era’s brief creative lull set in.

No. 96. “Aisumasen (I’m Sorry)”
John Lennon, Mind Games (1973)

Lennon reworked an earlier demo idea titled “Call My Name” to complete one of the saddest, most painfully open songs about his faltering relationship with Yoko Ono. The Lost Weekend starts as “Aisumasen (I’m Sorry)” concludes.

No. 95. “London Town”
Wings, London Town (1978)

As with the earlier Band on the Run, Wings was whittled down to a trio by the time they completed this album. But the curiously laidback London Town was no Band on the Run. That’s clear from its album-opening title track, which walks right up to the edge of twee. Since-departed guitarist Jimmy McCulloch and drummer Joe English were on the session, but can’t imbue this Denny Laine co-write with the energy and fun of their work on Venus and Mars and Speed of Sound. “London Town” reached the Top 40 on the Billboard Hot 100 but, more tellingly, also No. 17 on the U.S. Easy Listening chart.

No. 94. “Magneto and Titanium Man”
Wings, Venus and Mars (1975)

Impish and ear-wormy, “Magneto and Titanium Man” features McCartney happily inhabiting the Marvel Universe, decades before that was a thing. He’d nostalgically picked up a comic book on a whim during his regular Saturday trip to the market while on vacation in Jamaica and then found himself hooked all over again. “It took some skill – not to mention perspective and imagination – to pull off these illustrations,” McCartney said in The Lyrics: 1956 to the Present. “So, I decided it would be nice to bring these two comic book characters into a song.”

No. 93. “Back Off Boogaloo”
Ringo Starr, Blast from Your Past (1975)

Starr said the title of this glam-rock-y single, co-written with Harrison, was inspired by a catchphrase from the equally glam-rock-y Marc Bolan of T. Rex. Elsewhere, “Back Off Boogaloo” seems to be taking aim at McCartney as Starr makes several not-so-veiled references to his early solo career stumbles. Starr had come roaring into the ’70s with the gold-selling international Top 5 hit “It Don’t Come Easy” while both of McCartney’s 1971 albums had been widely panned. (Ram later earned a deserved critical reevaluation.)

No. 92. “Beware My Love”
Wings, Wings at the Speed of Sound (1976)

The lesser sibling in a suddenly stable two-album run for Wings, At the Speed of Sound overcompensated in an effort to make McCartney’s second band as democratic as his first, far more talented one. The result was sometimes too much Wings and not enough Paul McCartney. Not so “Beware My Love,” a muscular, surprisingly complex McCartney-sung rocker that simply leaps out of the speakers. Even here, however, he continued to stubbornly inhabit the team player role: McCartney held back a bolder version of “Beware My Love” featuring John Bonham rather than Wings drummer Joe English.

No. 91. “Oh My My”
Ringo Starr, Ringo (1973)

Ringo is rightly remembered now for playing host to a Beatles reunion of sorts, as all three of Starr’s former bandmates appeared. “Oh My My” stands out by showcasing Starr’s work with a new collaborator. Producer Richard Perry had recommended Vini Poncia and his co-write on this U.S. Top 5 single opened the door for a lengthy partnership with Starr. Poncia also contributed to 1974’s Goodnight Vienna, 1976’s Ringo’s Rotogravure, 1977’s Ringo the 4th and 1978’s Bad Boy. “Oh My My” emerged from a five-day burst of studio activity that also produced “Photograph” and “You’re Sixteen.”

No. 90. “Cafe on the Left Bank”
Wings, London Town (1978)

This rare up moment on London Town also features ex-Wings members Joe English and Jimmy McCulloch, even if they don’t appear on the album cover. “Cafe on the Left Bank” was inspired in part by a hitchhiking trip that McCartney took to Paris with Lennon in October 1961, and includes some of the resonant scenes the future Beatles observed as wide-eyed kids. The setting for the song’s eventual recording explains a lot about the low-key vibes surrounding London Town. Wings’ first pass was made in May 1977 on a 24-track console installed in a yacht called the Fair Carol, stationed at Watermelon Bay in the U.S. Virgin Islands.

No. 89. “Meat City”
John Lennon, Mind Games (1973)

The wild-eyed rocker “Meat City” was made all the more surprising by its placement at the end of such a contemplative album. As the track careens to a halt, Lennon can be heard saying, “Who is that – who is that and why are they doing those strange things?” Indeed.

No. 88. “Beautiful Girl”
George Harrison, Thirty Three & 1/3 (1976)

Harrison started “Beautiful Girl” with the Beatles, creating something that writer Nicholas Schaffner rightly noted felt like a callback to Rubber Soul. He then tried out the still-unfinished song during May 1970 sessions for All Things Must Pass but ultimately didn’t find a way to complete it until he fell in love with Olivia Arias. Long-time collaborator Billy Preston stopped by to add a remarkable turn at the organ.

No. 87. “Dear Boy”
Paul McCartney, Ram (1971)

At this point in his disintegrating relationship with Lennon, fans could be forgiven for assuming McCartney was directing “Dear Boy” at his former bandmate. Instead, the song referenced Linda McCartney’s first marriage to Joseph Melvin See Jr., with whom she had a daughter, Heather. They divorced in 1965 and See later died by suicide in 2000. “‘Dear Boy’ wasn’t getting at John,” McCartney confirmed years later. “‘Dear Boy’ was actually a song to Linda’s ex-husband: ‘I guess you never knew what you had missed.'”

No. 86. “Bluebird”
Wings, Band on the Run (1973)

No other solo LP so completely underscores the difficult freedom quest McCartney had to undertake, and none is more personal. The unifying theme of escape found throughout Band on the Run is more subtle (and thus more commercial) than the blunt confessional style of former partner John Lennon. McCartney instead uses broader storytelling brushstrokes, skillfully weaving his own desire to break away from the Beatles with outsider stories from those who perpetually wander, the roving eyes of ne’er-do-wells, and (in this case) the soaring freedom of flight.

No. 85. “Nobody Loves You (When You’re Down and Out)”
John Lennon, Walls and Bridges (1974)

Exiled on the other side of the country from Yoko Ono, Lennon finally opened himself to the fear of isolation he once angrily confronted on Plastic Ono Band. But without the closed-fist bravado that marked Lennon’s recordings of five years before. Instead, he submits to the emotions sparked by endings.

No. 84. “Six O’Clock”
Ringo Starr, Ringo (1973)

At this point, Starr had already secured a promise for new tracks from Harrison and Lennon. He worried, probably quite rightly, that McCartney would be a more difficult get. No one had worked with McCartney since the Beatles dissolved into a series of suits and countersuits, but a thaw was underway as those legal matters moved toward resolution. Starr decided to shift sessions from his Los Angeles base to London’s Apple Studios, where he could reestablish a rapport on McCartney’s home turf. McCartney arrived with a song said to be have been cowritten by his wife that would probably count as a throwaway on a Wings record, but works perfectly here.

No. 83. “That Would Be Something”
Paul McCartney, McCartney (1970)

A groovy little lovestruck piffle, “That Would Be Something” is emblematic of this album’s general aesthetic. McCartney layers in every element, including the sung (not played) drum fills. Like a lot of McCartney, there also isn’t much going on lyrically with “That Would Be Something” – and yet it somehow charms. In this way, McCartney had inadvertently set something of a solo standard. (See “Getting Closer,” found later in our list of Top 100 Beatles Solo Songs From the ’70s, among others.) Asked what a “pure McCartney song” might be during a 1986 BBC documentary, he at first demurred. Then McCartney admitted: “Something like ‘That Would Be Something,’ I think is very me.”

No. 82. “Be Here Now”
George Harrison, Living in the Material World (1973)

This feels like the quiet, and then soaringly meditative song Harrison was trying to make with the Beatles on the White Album‘s interminable “Long, Long, Long.” Featuring a drone played on the tanpura, the song is named after one of Harrison’s favorite books by Baba Ram Dass. He completed things with foresighted call to be present that arrived decades before the proliferation of cellphone distractions.

No. 81. “Too Many People”
Paul McCartney, Ram (1971)

Ram, quite obviously, arrived amid a period of very public sniping between McCartney and Lennon. There was the utterly unsubtle cover image of two beetles copulating. Also, the rather silly conceit that his photographer wife was somehow stepping in for John Lennon as a songwriting collaborator. Then McCartney opened with “Too Many People,” a song clearly directed at his former bandmate that risked immediately tanking the whole project with haughty sermonizing. But “Too Many People” rises above its moment, catching a tough groove. It’s helped along by two electric guitar solos that McCartney completed in one take.

No. 80. “Bring on the Lucie (Freda Peeple)”
John Lennon, Mind Games (1973)

Though it appeared on Mind Games, this song grew out of a 1971 demo that heralded Lennon’s bumpy ride toward more radical politics. “Bring on the Lucie (Freda Peeple)” was broadly topical and very sharp witted, however, and that couldn’t be more different than what later arrived on Some Time in New York City.

No. 79. “Woman Don’t You Cry for Me”
George Harrison, Thirty Three & 1/3 (1976)

Harrison began work on “Woman Don’t You Cry for Me” during his guest turn on a Delaney and Bonnie tour held after Abbey Road arrived but before the Beatles officially split. This track briefly became a contender for All Things Must Pass, and then was shelved for years. By that point, the song’s principal innovation had become old hat: This was the first time Harrison tried out slide guitar.

No. 78. “Let Me Roll It”
Wings, Band on the Run (1973)

Lennon and McCartney had finally found common ground again. (But not before Lennon replied to McCartney’s “Too Many People” with “How Do You Sleep?,” a nasty diatribe from 1971’s Imagine.) McCartney now felt comfortable enough to appropriate not just Lennon’s instrumental primitivism but also his raw vocal style – right down to a favorite studio effect that Lennon referred to as the “bog echo.” Lennon nodded McCartney’s way in return, embedding the riff from “Let Me Roll It” into 1974’s “Beef Jerky.”

No. 77. “Old Dirt Road”
John Lennon, Walls and Bridges (1974)

John Lennon’s Lost Weekend shenanigans with Harry Nilsson sometimes came to a very bad end. Even the album they produced together during this era, Nilsson’s Pussy Cats, has its share of questionable moments. Then there’s “Old Dirt Road.” Lennon tended to dismiss this Nilsson co-written deep cut, but it’s a delightful little reverie. Nilsson must’ve thought so, too: He recorded his version for 1980’s Flash Harry, the last studio LP released in Nilsson’s lifetime.

No. 76. “So Sad”
George Harrison, Dark Horse (1974)

“So Sad” was actually an outtake from Living in the Material World, and it’s got the same elegiac tone. Ringo Starr took part in the original session, where Harrison delved into the wreckage of his complicated relationship with Pattie Boyd. Perhaps thinking better of being so nakedly honest, Harrison sat on “So Sad” for a while. By the time it finally appeared on Dark Horse, Alvin Lee of Ten Years After had already released his own version.

No. 75. “Power to the People”
John Lennon, Shaved Fish (1975)

“Power to the People” previewed the more political bent heard on Some Time in New York City – but took a different approach. Unlike the determinedly newsy songs that followed, Lennon crafted a huge, hooky chorus and leveraged a universal theme. Alan White’s doggedly aggressive rhythm moved everything along. Unfortunately, however, that theme was already a bit passe. Lennon later acknowledged that “Power to the People” probably arrived about a decade too late.

No. 74. “Surprise, Surprise (Sweet Bird of Paradox)”
John Lennon, Walls and Bridges (1974)

One of the first songs attempted for Walls and Bridges, “Surprise, Surprise (Sweet Bird of Paradox)” might find Lennon at his most carnal. It’s certainly Lennon in one of his happiest moments. Ironically, the earliest demos were dark ruminations, almost like a ’50s lost-love ballad. (Lennon later cited “Little Darlin'” by the Diamonds as an inspiration.) Now overcome with lusty desire, he makes an improvised vocal reference to the Beatles’ “Drive My Car” as “Surprise, Surprise (Sweet Bird of Paradox)” fades.

No. 73. “Get On the Right Thing”
Wings, Red Rose Speedway (1973)

Another Ram-era leftover, this track has Beatles-esque pretensions — and that gives “Get on the Right Thing” much of its continued resonance. There’s a lot to love here. McCartney sings in the style of his old Little Richard send-ups for one of the last times on an original song. His vocals ascend into a rattling fervor, then whoop and call all the way back down, while still tracing a chaptered compositional style that recalls the best moments from Abbey Road. “Get on the Right Thing” also rocks in a way that drive-by fans might never have guessed after wading through the gauzy web of strings on “My Love,” heard earlier on Red Rose Speedway.

No. 72. “Working Class Hero”
John Lennon, Plastic Ono Band (1970)

With this Bob Dylan-esque three-chord call for a revolution in thought, Lennon’s sharply ironic asides (“if you want to be a hero well just follow me“) are often lost. It’s a shame because this populist message clearly meant a lot to Lennon, as he did hundreds of takes over several days at Abbey Road Studios. Frustrated with the results, Lennon inserted the “tortured and scared you for 20-odd years” verse from a different take to complete “Working Class Hero.”

No. 71. “Junk”
Paul McCartney, McCartney (1970)

“Junk” dated back to the Beatles’ May 1968 Esher demo sessions at Harrison’s house in Surrey. McCartney originally sketched out this song in Rishikesh, India, where the Beatles were studying meditation with Maharishi Mahesh Yogi. They also made a pass at “Junk” during the Get Back sessions in January 1969 at Twickenham, but “Junk” wasn’t properly recorded and released until the subsequent arrival of McCartney. It’s easy to see why he kept circling back: On its surface, “Junk” can be easily mistaken as more patented McCartney romanticism but it’s actually a canny criticism of consumer culture.

No. 70. “Sue Me, Sue You Blues”
George Harrison, Living in the Material World (1973)

He’d released a multiplatinum solo debut and staged a signature all-star charity show, but three years later Harrison was still in court trying to shake free of the Beatles. That prompted one of his sharpest, most Lennon-esque takedowns – complete with the same plucky dobro sound Harrison employed on his former bandmate’s “Crippled Inside.”

No. 69. “Bless You”
John Lennon, Walls and Bridges (1974)

A long-awaited exhale on a sonically overstuffed album. Lennon, then in the midst of an affair but still heartbroken over Yoko Ono, probably needed one in real life, too. The result was a few minutes of introspection as Lennon returned to his estranged wife – though, at this point, only in dreams.

No. 68. “Soily”
(One Hand Clapping, 2024)

Unreleased until its inclusion on 1976’s Wings Over America, “Soily” was actually one of the group’s first original songs. McCartney couldn’t have come up with something that had more flinty brawn, and the song would have jumpstarted Wild Life. He probably shied away from releasing “Soily,” however, because it makes absolutely no sense. “Things like ‘Soily’ – ‘the cat in the satin trousers says its oily,'” McCartney later ruminated. “What was I on?” The best version of “Soily” was actually from a rockumentary in August 1974 – but that take wouldn’t be issued until some 50 years later.

No. 67. “Isn’t It a Pity (Version Two)”
George Harrison, All Things Must Pass (1970)

Harrison’s second version of “Isn’t It a Pity” followed its original contours as a rejected demo for the Beatles, with Phil Spector‘s epic production touches replaced by a more intimate atmosphere that allowed Eric Clapton‘s guitar to move closer to the listener. The appearance of the Leslie recalled sessions for Abbey Road, too.

No. 66. “Letting Go”
Wings, Venus and Mars (1975)

From its first gnarled riff (courtesy of the underrated, gone-too-soon guitarist Jimmy McCulloch), “
Letting Go” sets a roiling and strikingly dark tone completely at odds with their pop-perfect hit “Listen What the Man Said” from the same album. Instead, McCartney explores that narrow space between love and obsession to great effect – though much fewer sales. “Listen What the Man Said” went to No. 1, while this brassy, blues-soaked gut punch stalled at No. 39.

No. 65. “The Lord Loves the One (That Loves the Lord)”
George Harrison, Living in the Material World (1973)

You’d be forgiven for expecting another anodyne paean to Krishna teachings. Instead, Harrison stormed through this album’s earthiest, most muscular attack, highlighted by ones of his finest slide performances.

No. 64. “Getting Closer”
Wings, Back to the Egg (1979)

Is there a more curious moment in the McCartney solo catalog than his use of “my salamander” as a term of endearment on this track? Seriously, a slimy, amphibian wall-crawler? Even so, because he’s Paul McCartney, “Getting Closer” is still propulsively enjoyable. Credit guitarist Lawrence Juber’s simply monstrous riff. In the end, this song might have crept higher on our list of the Top 100 Beatles Solo Songs From the ’70s if he hadn’t returned to a now career-long habit of tossed-off finishes. Here, he inexplicably abandons the song’s tightly packed construct after a couple of minutes for a swirling, utterly confusing fade out.

No. 63. “Big Barn Bed”
Wings, Red Rose Speedway (1973)

On the preceding Ram, McCartney returned to “Ram On” with a reprise that connects directly to the first song on Wings’ second album: “Who’s that coming round that corner? / Who’s that coming round that bend?” is also the opening line of “Big Barn Bed.” In fact, this track’s history goes back even further. Yet “Big Barn Bed” is another example, and perhaps the best one, of how McCartney could put everything he had into a song – except a proper conclusion. Thankfully, the first half of this is so perfect, so joyous and loved filled, that it carries Wings past another bad end.

No. 62. “Going Down on Love”
John Lennon, Walls and Bridges (1974)

As with “Surprise, Surprise” from elsewhere on Walls and Bridges, “Going Down on Love” started out much differently. Early versions matched the gritty stripped-down honesty of 1970’s Plastic Ono Band. Then Lennon started adding parts, most notably a tough little horn section. A song that was once this bleak exploration of the drama surrounding his love life was transformed – in sound, anyway. A check of the lyric sheet confirms that a directionless Lennon was standing at the very edge of an emotional abyss.

No. 61. “Let ‘Em In”
Wings, Wings at the Speed of Sound (1976)

McCartney scheduled his first U.S. tour since the Beatles’ final bow in 1966 – but only after rushing out the doggedly democratic At the Speed of Sound. The LP shot to the top of the charts over seven non-consecutive weeks as Wings’ blockbuster tour continued into the summer of ’76, powered in no small way by McCartney’s feather-light Grammy-nominated “Let ‘Em In,” one of two consecutive gold-selling Top 5 smashes. Some of those found knocking at the front door were real friends and relatives and some weren’t. Ironically, McCartney later married Nancy Shevell, who has both a “Sister Susie” and a “Brother Jon.”

No. 60. “Early 1970”
Ringo Starr, single (1970)

“Early 1970” reflects Starr’s perspective in the emotional days after the Beatles split. McCartney had taken his bandmates to court, while Harrison, Lennon and Starr continued to appear on one another’s albums. “For the first time, it was me commenting on the breakup and Paul’s attitude towards us at the time – when he was suing the three of us,” Starr said in the liner notes to Photograph: The Very Best of Ringo Starr. In keeping, Starr sounds certain that the trio he’ll work with Harrison and Lennon again. As for McCartney? “When he comes to town,” Starr sings, “I wonder if he’ll play with me?”

No. 59. “Venus and Mars / Rock Show”
Wings, Venus and Mars (1975)

Recorded in part at local impresario Allen Toussaint’s Sea Saint Recording Studio in New Orleans, Venus and Mars reflected the settled atmosphere surrounding McCartney (and Wings). He’d firmly established himself outside of the Beatles, so there was suddenly time to look toward the stars. “Rock Show,” featuring Toussaint on piano, provided a winking travelogue to send fans home as McCartney name checked favorite concert venues. Record buyers pushed the third single from Venus and Mars to No. 12 in the U.S., but U.K. listeners were apparently not into astronomy. “Venus and Mars/Rock Show” didn’t chart at all there.

No. 58. “Dear Friend”
Wings, Wild Life (1971)

Often thought of as a response to Lennon’s Imagine-era sniping, “Dear Friend” actually dated back to the sessions for Ram – well before the acid-tongued “How Do You Sleep?” hit store shelves. McCartney is attempting to mend the divide, but in a haltingly conciliatory way: This moody, minor-keyed rumination begins with four unanswered questions, underscoring his sad confusion. A series of turbulent, well-placed fills from drummer Denny Seiwell, who’d be a cornerstone of Wings’ first incarnation, only add to the drama. Richard Hewson’s strings arrive with a crescendo, like a heart breaking.

No. 57. “To You”
Wings, Back to the Egg (1979)

A blast of new-wave inventiveness, “To You” finds McCartney employing these Ric Ocasek hiccups and post-punk howls, while guitarist Laurence Juber furiously saws away over a fidgety beat – then runs his guitar, in a moment of smeared brilliance, through an Eventide harmonizer during these totally wackadoo solos. Nowhere else on Back to the Egg is there a greater sense of the fizzy future that never was for the final lineup of Wings. In a few years, of course, this sound would be airing wall-to-wall on MTV.

No. 56. “Ballad of Sir Frankie Crisp (Let It Roll)”
George Harrison, All Things Must Pass (1970)

Harrison takes us along on ahis own travelogue through the mystical, humorous and quite charming Friar Park, the Victorian Gothic mansion in Henley-on-Thames once owned by Crisp.

No. 55. “I Know (I Know)”
John Lennon, Mind Games (1973)

As Lennon’s relationship with Ono began to falter, he offered a mea culpa in song not unlike “How?” and “Jealous Guy” from Imagine. Curiously, he also might have been reaching out to someone else with whom he was estranged: McCartney debuted his new band Wings with 1971’s Wild Life, and the track list included a song called “Some People Never Know.” The opening riff on “I Know (I Know)” also strongly resembles “I’ve Got a Feeling” from the Beatles’ last-released album, Let It Be.

No. 54. “Behind That Locked Door”
George Harrison, All Things Must Pass (1970)

Originally aimed at Dylan, as he planned a huge comeback appearance with the Band at the Isle of Wight Festival, “Behind That Locked Door” became a stirring message of encouragement that we all can use from time to time.

No. 53. “Nobody Loves You (When You’re Down and Out)”
John Lennon Walls and Bridges, (1974)

Exiled on the other side of the country from Ono, Lennon finally opened himself to the fear of isolation he once angrily confronted on Plastic Ono Band. But without the closed-fist bravado that marked Lennon’s recordings of five years before. Instead, he submits to the emotions sparked by endings.

No. 52. “Little Lamb Dragonfly”
Wings, Red Rose Speedway (1973)

Though included on Wings’ second album, this song’s history is given away in the personnel credits.
Ram-era guitarist Hugh McCracken appears with the McCartneys, Denny Seiwell and Denny Laine. “Little Lamb Dragonfly” was initially inspired by a real life lamb that McCartney couldn’t save at his rural Scottish farm, but the song never came into focus. Then Laine stepped in with a lyrical assist, while Seiwell helped with the arrangement. The orchestration was then completed by Beatles producer George Martin, hinting at the wider reunion to come with “Live and Let Die.” Curiously, despite all of that teamwork, the songwriting credit only mention Paul and Linda McCartney.

No. 51. “Helen Wheels”
Paul McCartney single (1973)

“Helen Wheels” finds the McCartneys rambling in a trusty Land Rover from the farm to London. The single, a pun on “hell on wheels,” had its own circuitous journey. Wings’ three-piece edition recorded “Helen Wheels” during sessions for Band on the Run, then issued it as a stand-alone single. Imagine the surprise felt by McCartney’s American label managers when the production version of Band on the Run arrived without this raucous No. 10 hit. Calls were made and McCartney agreed to let Capitol Records slip in “Helen Wheels” as track eight, between “No Words” and “Picasso’s Last Words (Drink to Me).”

No. 50. “Don’t Let Me Wait Too Long”
George Harrison, Living in the Material World (1973)

The impish original working title of this deeply religious album was The Magic Is Here Again, which – even as a joke – was guaranteed to be an overpromise after Harrison’s triple-album debut. Still, “Don’t Make Me Wait Too Long” was one of the times when his long-awaited studio follow-up approached that kind of hyperbole. A masterpiece of coiled anticipation.

No. 49. “Back Seat of My Car”
Paul McCartney, Ram (1971)

“Back Seat of My Car” is pretty unfocused: It’s too overstuffed with ideas, too reliant on multi-tracked McCartneys, not as rustic as his solo debut and somehow tossed-off sounding anyway, and simply too long. Yet this song still underscores what makes Ram such a wildly inventive gem. It’s gutsy and un-precious at one point and then a testament to McCartney’s enduring pop sensibilities at others. As he bolts from ’50s-era rock to cocktail-lounge crooning to swooning violins, and back again – all inside of this one final track, mind you – there is a sense of limitless possibility.

No. 48. “Whatever Gets You Thru the Night”
John Lennon, Walls and Bridges (1974)

At this point, Lennon’s flinty solo career hadn’t yet produced a No. 1 single. He broke the spell with a song inspired by a cribbed phrase from TV – this time after channel surfing into a late-night evangelist. Lennon’s friend Elton John was so confident the song would hit that he made a now-famous bet that led Lennon to his last-ever concert performance.

No. 47. “Listen What the Man Said”
Wings, Venus and Mars (1975)

“Listen to What the Man Said” presents as a breezy romp, but sessions for the smash single were actually a painstaking drag. That is, until a key contributor came in and nailed his part on the very first try. McCartney was trying to work through things with his core group even though Wings were recording in the New Orleans neighborhood of Gentilly, a locale that could have provided a wealth of native and visiting talent. Finally, someone at Sea-Saint Studio mentioned that Tom Scott, the well-known jazz saxophonist, lived nearby. His turn gave “Listen to What the Man Said” the push it needed. Wings’ suddenly had their eighth consecutive Top 10 Billboard smash, and the fourth of their seven total No. 1 singles.

No. 46. “Run of the Mill”
George Harrison, All Things Must Pass (1970)

The emotional toll of the Beatles’ troubles was writ large during a song Harrison initially composed before they reassembled for Abbey Road. Spector actually allowed for a rootsy, Band-like structure in a moment of surprising restraint later underscored when one of Harrison’s initial run-throughs appeared on 2012’s Early Takes Vol. 1. Spector didn’t add much; he didn’t have to.

No. 45. “Another Day”
Paul McCartney single (1971)

McCartney’s debut solo single was another everyman tale that became the first song recorded during sessions for Ram. Drummer Denny Seiwell once accurately described “Another Day” as “Eleanor Rigby in New York City.” McCartney had arrived with this in his back pocket after running through several embryonic versions with the Beatles in January 1969. The completed take, with serrated guitar contributions from David Spinozza, became a Top 5 hit in America and U.K. McCartney described it all as “thrilling,” in The Lyrics: 1956 to the Present, “though tinged with sadness. It also felt like I had something to prove, and that kind of challenge is always exciting.”

No. 44. “This Song”
George Harrison, Thirty Three & 1/3 (1976)

Harrison had much more success when he hilariously lampooned the whole “My Sweet Lord” legal mess rather than trying to reverse-engineer a solution like he did for the 2001 reissue of All Things Must Pass.

No. 43. “How Do You Sleep?”
John Lennon, Imagine (1971)

Half of the Beatles took part in this savage assault on McCartney, as Lennon made biting references to “Yesterday,” Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band and McCartney’s solo hit “Another Day.” So, is “How Do You Sleep?” a low point in their very public post-split bickering? Or one of George Harrison’s coolest-ever turns on the slide? Answer: yes

No. 42. “Call Me Back Again”
Wings, Venus and Mars (1975)

McCartney refused to rest on his laurels after the outsized successes of the trio-recorded Band on the Run. Instead, he set about rebuilding Wings in advance of a far more stylistically diverse recording. Venus and Mars it remains an amiable artifact from a time when – likely, in part, because of those recent multi-platinum sales figures – he finally seemed free of the weight of his Beatles fame. That allowed him to try out things like this simmering deep cut, which may be the best Wings song you’ve never heard. Tony Dorsey’s bright brass blasts send McCartney into howls of pain, as he shreds a lyric reportedly aimed at his missing friend, John Lennon.

No. 41. “You”
George Harrison, Extra Texture [Read All About It] (1975)

Harrison had returned to drink and drugs, and Extra Texture couldn’t have strayed further from his religious moorings — or from the free-spirited uplift that made his initial post-Beatles records such pleasant surprises. This Top 20 U.S. hit – actually a relic from a shelved 1971 solo album by Ronnie Spector – takes you right back. Still, it says a lot when the best thing on an LP is essentially a table scrap.

No. 40. “Arrow Through Me”
Wings, Back to the Egg (1979)

“Arrow Through Me” might be the most unjustly forgotten McCartney single. How did this R&B-infused soft-rock pastry – featuring a funky keyboard bass line and an endlessly inventive undulating poly-rhythm from final Wings drummer Steve Holly – somehow only peak at No. 29? Holly recorded two drum parts, one at half speed, while McCartney dove headlong into the emerging no-guitar New Wave aesthetic. Couple all of that with a bright blast of horns and the result is a long-awaited update of what had become Wings’ tried-and-true silly-love-song template.

No. 39. “God”
John Lennon, Plastic Ono Band (1970)

In the album’s most important statement, Lennon blithely pushed aside fallen idols – from Dylan to religion to his old band – flatly declaring that “the dream is over.” He was moving on: After naming and then discarding all of those earlier talismans, Lennon concluded with a quiet affirmation of his love for Ono.

No. 38. “My Love”
Wings, Red Rose Speedway (1973)

Sure, the lyrics are saccharine – and the strings even more so. But McCartney just sells it, and then Wings guitarist Henry McCullough steps forward. He had to fight for that searing solo moment, and then nail it live in the studio. “Paul had this particular thing that he wanted me to play. That was the point of no return,” the late McCullough said in 2011. “I said, ‘I’m sorry, I can’t do this. I have to be left as the guitar player in the band. I want to have my own input, too.’ He says, ‘What are you going to do?’ I didn’t know.” McCartney’s no-doubt stunned response, he later admitted, was simply: “F—ing great.”

No. 37. “Love Comes to Everyone”
George Harrison, George Harrison (1979)

He should know. Harrison completed this song in early 1978, after some time away. He’d marry Olivia Arias and then become father to Dhani during the sessions for a self-titled comeback album. Clapton and Steve Winwood stopped by his home studio to complete things.

No. 36. “Isolation”
John Lennon, Plastic Ono Band (1970)

“Isolation” is the flipside of “God,” as Lennon admits deep insecurity surrounding his new post-Beatles existence. At one point, everyone but Starr drops out, and his insistent cadence feels like it’s mimicking Lennon’s terrified arrhythmia.

No. 35. “I’d Have You Anytime”
George Harrison, All Things Must Pass (1970)

Every bit as moving as Abbey Road triumphs like “Something,” with a Beatle-ish guitar signature and lyrical assist by Bob Dylan. What a gutsy opening song for such an enormous undertaking.

No. 34. “Out the Blue”
John Lennon, Mind Games (1973)

Lennon provided a peek into the mounting panic that surrounded his fracturing relationship with Ono on this often-overlooked ballad: “I was born just to get to you. Anyway I survived, long enough to make you my wife.” He completed things with soaring strings that sounded like a sadder, more honest version of Phil Spector’s cloying arrangement for “The Long and Winding Road.”

No. 33. “Uncle Albert/Admiral Halsey”
Paul McCartney, Ram (1971)

McCartney’s first solo U.S. No. 1 single harkened back to the way he worked toward the end of his time with the Beatles. He’d been the principal architect of a medley that dominated the second side of Abbey Road. Originally titled “The Long One,” it featured a series of joined song snippets. Lennon later trashed the concept as nothing more than a desk-clearing exercise, but something sparked for McCartney creatively. After following a more stripped-down, personal path on McCartney, he completed this technicolor outburst of sewn-together ideas with ever-shifting cadences, styles, collaborators and melodies. “Uncle Albert/Admiral Halsey” was the Abbey Road assemblage, taken to a fizzy kitchen-sink zenith.

No. 32. “With a Little Luck”
Wings, London Town (1978)

After two monster mid-’70s albums and a celebrated world tour, Wings promptly began falling apart. As sessions for London Town ended, the group was reduced once again to the trio of Denny Laine and the McCartneys – but five years later, they couldn’t pull off another Band on the Run. Instead, London Town often feels small scale and too precious, but not this R&B-influenced synth-driven U.S. smash. “With a Little Luck” taps into a well of emotion not heard elsewhere, hinting at McCartney’s feelings as his band split. Of course, what this project desperately needed was a jolt of punky attitude. McCartney must have realized it, as he subsequently set about restructuring Wings for a final time.

No. 31. “Crackerbox Palace”
George Harrison, Thirty-Three and a Third (1976)

The album’s title was a take off on the RPMs for vinyl and Harrison’s age on the proposed release date, and it held great playful promise. Only the record wasn’t released until his 33 2/3 birthday, in a preview of looming label issues. Too bad, since Thirty-Three and a Third was a vast improvement over Extra Texture, highlighted by this incredibly fun Top 20 hit. “Crackerbox Palace” was about the estate of friend Lord Buckley, putting an expectedly different spin (for Harrison anyway) on the line: “Know that the Lord is well.”

No. 30. “Silly Love Songs”
Wings, Wings at the Speed of Sound (1976)

Oh good, a pop star complaining about his critics. But this is no bitch session – thanks to a creator who’s in complete command of his muse. There’s artistry everywhere within this compulsively listenable confection, from the gorgeous layered vocals to the dancing interchanges between horns and strings. Then there’s a pushed-forward, endlessly entertaining bass line that bears a passing resemblance to “Sha La La” by Al Green. Fans clearly agreed that there was nothing wrong with that, sending “Silly Love Songs” to No. 1 the Hot 100 for five non-consecutive weeks.

No. 29. “All Things Must Pass”
George Harrison, All Things Must Pass (1970)

Harrison initially gave “All Things Must Pass” to Billy Preston when the Beatles rejected it. By the time Preston’s version arrived in September 1970, Harrison had thankfully decided to reclaim this track. Like “Run of the Mill,” his subsequent update was influenced by the the Band’s recent Music From Big Pink.

No. 28. “Love”
John Lennon, Plastic Ono Band (1970)

Lennon deftly paints a mirror-image portrait of two lovers responding to one another, in one of his simplest, most touching lyrics. Interestingly, Phil Spector – not Lennon – plays the similarly elliptical piano part. “Love” actually started out as a guitar-based demo.

No. 27. “Let It Down”
George. Harrison, All Things Must Pass (1970)

Look at Harrison, establishing the loud/soft approach that would define alternative rock back when all of those flannel-wearing guys were still twinkles in their pop’s eyes.

No. 26. “Live and Let Die”
Wings, Live and Let Die soundtrack (1973)

A rock opera crammed into one overstuffed Grammy-winning single, “Live and Let Die” features, in order, a sad requiem for the ’60s, a thunderous George Martin score and a weirdly effective reggae-styled middle eight. Over the top? There simply is no top here. But that mirrors the James Bond viewpoint for which it was written, while pointing directly to the success Wings would have at mixing and matching seemingly divergent elements into a broader theme on Band on the Run. Subsequently, “Live and Let Die” would become a fireworks-blasting mainstay of every McCartney concert appearance.

No. 25. “Blow Away”
George Harrison, George Harrison (1979)

A soul-lifting track about clearing skies and opening hearts that’s aged as well as any solo Beatles single. Maybe better.

No. 24. “Oh My Love”
John Lennon, Imagine (1971)

Lennon takes a breath between excoriating empty-suited politicians and ex-bandmates to lay bare tender affections for Yoko Ono. “Oh My Love” was the only song on Imagine where she initially earned a co-songwriting credit, though Ono’s name was later added to the title track, too.

No. 23. “Every Night”
Paul McCartney, McCartney (1970)

McCartney quickly came up with the first two lines before stalling out. He seemed to be getting closer to a conclusion during a couple of run throughs with the Beatles in January 1969, but “Every Night” was left on the cutting-room floor. Finally, a burst of inspiration struck in February 1970 while mixing “That Would Be Something” for the McCartney album. He completed “Maybe I’m Amazed” (found later in our list of Top 100 Beatles Solo Songs From the ’70s) and “Every Night,” the latter of which boasts an intriguing song structure: There’s no chorus; instead, McCartney simply returns to “every night” at the beginning of every verse.

No. 22. “My Sweet Lord”
George Harrison, All Things Must Pass (1970)

Docked several spots because he lost that court case. An American publishing company famously won a $600,000 judgment after claiming that it sounded too much like the early ’60s hit “He’s So Fine.” The court ruled that Harrison “subconsciously plagiarized” the song. Oddly, Harrison countered that he had, in fact, stolen it – but not from the Chiffons. Instead, he said it was originally inspired by Edwin Hawkins Singers’ “Oh Happy Day.”

No. 21. “Mind Games”
John Lennon, Mind Games (1973)

What if “I Am the Walrus” had an anti-war thread running through it? You might just get the title track from Mind Games, as Lennon tosses off Lewis Carroll-ish references to “druid dudes” and “mind guerillas” while railing against the ongoing conflict in Vietnam. That careful balance of fantasy and message likely helped it into the U.S. Top 20.

No. 20. “Isn’t It a Pity (Version One)”
George Harrison, All Things Must Pass (1970)

Harrison just wouldn’t give up on this one. “Isn’t It a Pity” was notably tried during January 1969 Beatles sessions under the not-very-intriguing title of “George’s Demo.” (Perhaps unsurprisingly, it went nowhere.) At that point, he’d apparently been fooling around with some form of this song since the Revolver period. When he finally got a chance to record it, Harrison paired the frankly titanic first version of “Isn’t It a Pity” with “My Sweet Lord” to create his double A-side debut solo single.

No. 19. “How”
John Lennon, Imagine (1971)

A song that thematically wouldn’t have felt out of place on Plastic Ono Band, “How” revealed a similar depth of self-doubt and fear, but presented things – like much of the Imagine project – in a sleeker, more approachable way. That doesn’t mean it was boring: Lennon’s jolting syncopations smartly echo his own insecurities.

No. 18. “Beware of Darkness”
George Harrison, All Things Must Pass (1970)

“Beware of Darkness” originally opened Side Three of Harrison’s post-Fab creative outburst, capturing both the mood and the moment in a reserved, and very Harrison-esque manner. It’s a showcase for his fellow musicians, as sessions evolved into loose amalgams overseen by the mercurial Phil Spector. Yet, Harrison remains the center point, as he matches a lyrical meditation on overcoming life’s harder moments (he simply refuses to give into “the pain that often lingers“) with an arrangement that might draw this album’s clearest line back to the Beatles.

No. 17. “Jealous Guy”
John Lennon, Imagine (1971)

“Jealous Guy” eventually became one of the most covered of Lennon’s solo tracks, with more than 100 reinterpretations — most notably by Roxy Music, whose update became a huge U.K. hit after Lennon’s murder. And yet this song still completely belongs to its author. Lennon creates this incredibly atmospheric music bed then sings with an unmatched fragility.

No. 16. “Imagine”
John Lennon, Imagine (1971)

Lennon himself actually nailed it: This song is “anti-religious, anti-nationalistic, anti-conventional, anti-capitalistic – but because it is sugarcoated, it is accepted.”

No. 15. “Mother”
John Lennon, Plastic Ono Band (1970)

Lennon switched from guitar to piano as he worked out this tortured wail for his missing parents, with Starr providing a smartly economical and fill-free rhythm that only added to the lyric’s stabbing emotion. Lennon recorded the shredding finale in single-line takes to save his voice. His pain is simply excruciating.

No. 14. “Jet”
Wings, Band on the Run (1973)

It took a surprising amount of time, but with “Jet,” the early-’70s McCartney finally started sounding like the late-’60s McCartney again. Full of soaring Beatles-esque ambition, and no small amount of swagger, this power pop gem is as impossible to decrypt as it is impossible to ignore. Was Jet about a dog? A pony?? In the end, it didn’t matter. The first single from Band on the Run was just that good. Even cut down for radio, “Jet” zoomed into the Top 10 on the Billboard chart.

No. 13. “Your Love Is Forever”
George Harrison, George Harrison (1979)

Harrison spent some time puttering around the grounds during his time away from the music business. “I like gardens; I like the pleasure they give you,” he told Rolling Stone back then. “It’s like a meditation in a way.” This sense of contentment permeated the small-scale, endlessly charming LP which followed, and “Your Love Is Forever” was its heart and soul. Harrison employs an era-appropriate cycle of seasonal metaphors to craft one of his most truly enduring ballads, then completes things with some of his loveliest slide work.

No. 12. “Gimme Some Truth”
John Lennon, Imagine (1971)

Originally demoed during the sessions that produced Let It Be, “Gimme Some Truth” melds Lennon’s love of witty banter with a knack for the devastating take down. As he rails against the hypocrisy and villainy of the day, Harrison can be found brutally sawing on his guitar.

No. 11. “Photograph”
Ringo Starr, Ringo (1973)

This former U.S. chart-topper suffers some from the age in which it was recorded, as Starr must contend with a Spector-ish storm of strings, and an army of backup singers and sidemen including another drummer, a saxophonist and three (!) guitarists. It was a sound that co-writer George Harrison favored at the time, but Spector was actually nowhere to be found. Richard Perry produced Ringo, and the orchestral arrangements are by Jack Nitzsche. In the end, “Photograph” served updated Starr’s sad-sack Mop Top character sketch into 1973’s shag-carpeted present tense. It helped make this the first Beatles solo album to invoke their golden era with any measurable success – from its Sgt. Pepper takeoff of a cover to the appearance of all four former Beatles on separate songs.

 

No. 10. “Instant Karma”
John Lennon, Shaved Fish (1975)

This appropriately named tune, Lennon’s third solo single, was recorded at Abbey Road Studios the same day it was written. “Instant Karma” didn’t, as hoped, hit the shelves at record stores within 24 hours of completion — but it did arrive just 10 days later.

No. 9. “Junior’s Farm”
Paul McCartney single (1974)

Following the success of Band on the Run, McCartney took the rebuilt Wings lineup into recording sessions at Nashville, where they stayed at a farm owned by Curly Putman Jr. – and the cool-rocking “Junior’s Farm” was born. Guitarist Jimmy McCulloch makes an explosive debut with Wings, eliciting a happy shoutout from McCartney. He’s joined by an absurd cast of characters that includes a poker man, Oliver Hardy, an Eskimo, an old man at a grocery and a sea lion. That was some farm, apparently.

No. 8. “I’m the Greatest”
Ringo Starr, Ringo (1973)

This wouldn’t have worked if its author had handled lead vocals, but in Ringo Starr’s hands, “I’m the Greatest” becomes an exuberant parody of cocksureness. This song is so ironic and perfectly timed throughout that it tops even the bigger hits on this list. Lennon plays piano and sings, while Harrison joins in with a stinging guitar part. Together, they provide this fizzy counterpoint to the Starr’s customary undercurrent of melancholy. This is perhaps the closest the Beatles ever got to reforming, not just in the sense of there being three of them in the room, but also in the way the song turns expectations on their ear. This doesn’t sound like the solo Beatles trying to sound like “the Beatles,” a rare thing.

No. 7. “What Is Life”
George Harrison, All Things Must Pass (1970)

A towering rocker from Harrison’s six-times platinum-selling solo debut, “What Is Life” actually warranted Spector’s Wall of Sound approach. He ended up assembling a who’s-who session: Members of Badfinger added extra layers to a sweeping exclamation of passion, while the background vocals were credited to the George O’Hara-Smith singers — Bobby Whitlock and Clapton, the future nucleus of Derek and the Dominos. The results couldn’t be more widescreen – and yet “What Is Life” never loses its sense of intimate joy.

No. 6. “I Found Out”
John Lennon, Plastic Ono Band (1970)

Lennon unleashes a series of kill shots aimed at politicians, drugs, religion (“from Jesus to Paul“), parents, society – you name it – and Starr’s rugged cadence boldly echoes every rebuke.

No. 5. “It Don’t Come Easy”
Ringo Starr single (1971)

A No. 4 smash in both the U.S. and Starr’s native England, “It Don’t Come Easy” was originally credited to Starr alone, but bootleg demos have since surfaced that show Harrison performing a guide vocal for Starr. (Further evidence is perhaps provided during 1971’s Concert for Bangladesh, when Starr forgot the words to this song on stage.) Nevertheless, “It Don’t Come Easy” remains one of Starr’s signature moments, and one that would have been right at home on any late-era Beatles project. That’s fitting since the single was initially produced by George Martin, and also featured Harrison on electric guitar. Members of Badfinger originally sang “Hari Krishna” – OK, now you know it was actually Harrison’s song – over a portion of the instrumental segment on the track.

No. 4. “#9 Dream”
John Lennon, Walls and Bridges (1974)

Lennon rarely looked back, which made a return to the sound of his 1967 creative apex with the Beatles as surprising as it was welcome. The narcoleptic mysticism of “#9 Dream” – Lennon said “ah bowakawa pousse, pousse” actually came to him in a dream – would have fit right in on Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band or Magical Mystery Tour. But it didn’t start out that way: Lennon’s original demo – simply titled “So Long” – was based on a contemporary string arrangement he’d written for Harry Nilsson’s 1974 cover of “Many Rivers to Cross” on Pussy Cats.

No. 3. “Give Me Love (Give Me Peace On Earth)”
George Harrison, Living in the Material World (1973)

In a way, there wasn’t any other direction to go but smaller. After all, Harrison had already reached No. 1 in both the U.S. and U.K. with the expansive “My Sweet Lord,” then organized a huge Bangladesh benefit concert. So he gathered a tightly knit quartet of confidants – only Gary Wright, Klaus Voormann, Jim Keltner and Nicky Hopkins were on hand – to record something Harrison later described as “a prayer and personal statement between me, the Lord and whoever likes it.” Turns out everybody did. Harrison’s ever-expressive slide took center stage, rather than a tsunami of sidemen, while his message became more direct. All of it worked in tandem to render universal truths about healing and forgiveness. Oh, and another No. 1 song.

No. 2. “Band on the Run”
Paul McCartney, Band on the Run (1973)

From their lowest moment arose Wings’ greatest triumph, as a band searching for direction after a pair of member defections crafted an ageless Grammy-winning multi-part paean to escape. With the arguable exception of Ram, no McCartney album so successfully blended his interests in the melodic, the orchestral, the rocking and the episodic. Somehow all of that fizzy creativity is found in miniature within its title track, too. And to think, it all started with a throwaway complaint former bandmate George Harrison made as an Apple Corps meeting dragged on: “If we ever get out of here.”

No. 1. “Maybe I’m Amazed”
Paul McCartney, McCartney (1970)

McCartney didn’t aspire to the Beatles’ layered achievements on Sgt. Pepper Lonely Hearts Club Band or Abbey Road, but instead came off as a loose, surprisingly unvarnished expression — like someone trying to work out his own sound. That can be the album’s strength, but also a notable weakness. Some of this, quite frankly, just sounds like noodling around. But then there was “Maybe I’m Amazed.” Begun while with the Beatles, the song finally emerged from a very different place: McCartney is simply boiling with emotion, both light and dark. Yet, this moment of tucked-away utter brilliance didn’t initially get its due. Until finally, in 1977, when it did – as a live remake from Wings went to No. 10.

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