The last track on an album is the postage stamp that completes the whole experience of listening to a record, and closers are the songs that bring a sprawling close to proceedings. Here at The Indiependent (being the generous people that we are), we have decided to pick the most iconic album closers that simply make you wish they could last forever. This is part of a double feature where we chose our favourite album openers and closers, so make sure you check out ‘The Indiependent’s Best Album Openers Ever’, too
Grew Up At Midnight // The Maccabees
Possibly the sweetest song on this whole list, the finale to The Maccabees third album ‘Given To The Wild’ is almost angelic. It continues the running themes of love and relationships from the bands first two albums yet ‘Grew Up At Midnight’ feels like the end of a relationship. From twinkling beginnings, Orlando Week’s beautifully delicate voice drifts over solemn guitars that slowly build to a gorgeous explosion of pure joy with the shout along lyrics of “We grew up at midnight / We were only kids then” you can’t help but get swept up in the beautiful atmosphere of the track. ‘Grew Up At Midnight’ could possibly be one of the most underrated songs of the past years but its still one of the best finishes to an album ever recorded.
Words by Joe Cadman
What Became Of The Likely Lads // The Libertines
It’s evident that ‘What Became of the Likely Lads’ has become a cult anthem in its own right. It appears as the closing track of The Libertines self-titled second album. The lyrics of the song were intended to outline the collapse of Doherty and Barat’s friendship which led to the subsequent collapse of the band but they have been interpreted by swathes of disaffected adolescents lamenting a lost youth and a growing pressure of mundane responsibilities. Shadowed by infectious guitar riffs and Doherty’s trademark scratchy vocals, the song is a product of its time, adopted by the disaffected generation that The Libertines have come to represent.
Words by Beth Chaplow
A Certain Romance // Arctic Monkeys
“You just cannot get angry end an album in the same way”
Just as certain as the sun rises (and, indeed, goes down), Alex Turner and Co. know how to wrap up an album, faff-free. And no album-closer comes quite as close to tugging on the ol’ heartstrings like ‘A Certain Romance’ does. It’s a lucid ode to humanity, drizzled with that same dulcet Yarksheer drawl that we’ve grown accustomed to over the last decade. The last, lingering chords still hit me for six even now – as the plucking ebbs away, you can’t help but feel it’s the final twang of adolescence itself. What a way to rubber-stamp the album that started it all for the ever-present Arctic Monkeys
Words by Jacob South-Klein
Will It Be This Way Forever? // The Courteeners
When I first bought ‘Falcon’ I remember sitting through the whole album. When I heard the dark sounds, “A bicycle shop at the end of the road”, I knew that this would be one of my favourite song by The Courteeners of all time. The simple lyrics “Naive, Young and Not Too Clever” that have become copied and pasted into god knows how many twitter bios become a shouted chorus at any Courteeners gig. This song is the perfect closer to the album because it shows the darker sounds of The Courteeners, the more mysterious sounds that they can produce.
Words by Brigid Harrison-Draper
Come Back // Foo Fighters
Foo Fighters aren’t really known for having songs that amass to longer than five minutes. That was until the release of One by One in 2002, with the closing song of the record – ‘Come Back’ – clocking in at nearly eight minutes long. For a closer, it really ties the eleven songs on the record together. One by One is Foo Fighters most aggressive record, with heavy, amplified guitars and pounding drums being a recurring theme throughout each song. ‘Come Back’ is no different, it really manages to collect together all the emotions from the previous ten songs and compile them into an epic anthem, showcasing the Foo’s more experimental side.
Words by Sophie McEvoy
Champagne Supernova // Oasis
Whilst every single one of Oasis’ seven albums has reached number one in the UK, (What’s The Story) Morning Glory? is largely considered their best and most successful. Closing the album is, similarly, one of the band’s most popular and acclaimed tracks, “Champagne Supernova”. A seven minute anthem full of notoriously strange lyrics than even writer Noel Gallagher doesn’t understand, “Champangne Supernova” is one of the most instantly recognisable tracks of recent years, and it closes an album of stellar tracks with one of its best. As one of the bands greatest tracks, having it close the album makes you want to listen to it from the beginning all over again – definitely the sign of a good closer.
Words by Amie Bailey
In The Presence Of Enemies Pt. 2 // Dream Theater
For the best album closers it is always best to build up a climax and give the listener some sort of reward for listening to the whole album. Dream Theater’s album Systemic Chaos closes with In The Presence of Enemies Part 2 that carries on from part 1 (shocker, I know) and showcases the culmination and resolution of the character the song follows. Right from the get go Dream Theater build up the tension before unleashing this marvellous solo and instrumental music that not only sounds creatively wonderful but also links back to the beginning of the album. This great musicianship in this closer binds together this story that has spanned across a lengthy epic and rewards listeners with a unique musical experience – something that’s hard to come by.
Words by Joshua Jones
Glory Hallelujah // Frank Turner
‘Glory Hallelujah’, from Frank Turner’s fourth album England Keep My Bones, is the perfect concluding track. Entering the intro with lyrics “brothers and sisters, have you heard the news? / The storm has lifted and there’s nothing to lose” epitomises the tone of the album as a whole: an album of love, loss, hope, despair and pride. The use of an organ alongside acoustic guitar adds an anthemic feel. With carefree, life-loving vibes, ‘Glory Hallelujah’ reflects other tracks from the album such as ‘If I Ever Stray’ and ‘Wessex Boy’. Cleverly, Turner concludes the track with the same melody he opens it with in first track ‘Eulogy’, and ends England Keep My Bones on an inspiring note, rounding up the journey on which he takes the listener throughout the album.
Words by Rachel Davis
Riders On The Storm // The Doors
Its difficult to put my almost unfathomable admiration for this song into words. To my mind, it is without a doubt one of, if not the blues masterpiece of the 20th century. Before Jim Morrison utters a single word of the title, the cumulative yet calm mood is set after a distant clap of thunder to pre-empt the pattering of rain that accompanies Ray Manzarek’s creeping chords and emulative, frantic high notes. Even though the original version that brings The Doors’ 1971 album L.A. Woman to a fitting conclusion, is over seven minutes long, every piece of the puzzle is so encapsulating that it’s length is hardly noticeable.
Words by Alex Graham
Promise // Ben Howard
For me, a great album has to sound complete. It has to sound finished and it has to leave a sense of closure, and few albums do this like Ben Howard’s Every Kingdom. The reason for this is the feeling of calm and serenity that floods through you with the closing track ‘Promise’. The song is over six minutes long, but no point feels stretched out and no part feels unnecessary; instead, the long fade-in, beautiful lyricism and slow acoustic guitar picking makes you want to close your eyes and forget the world, just for those six tranquil minutes. It definitely leaves a sense of closure, and it does so in a way that you never want it to end.
Words by Ashley Moss
The Suburbs (Continued) // Arcade Fire
While The Suburbs’ opener is akin to the opening credits of an American sitcom, its closer is a much more harrowing yet cathartic affair. The honky tonk-ing piano is cast aside in favour of searing reverb-drenched strings, whose soaring melancholic dominance is broken only by Win Butler’s haunting rasps of “If I could have it back / All the time that we wasted / I’d only waste it again.” This is the sound of a band gazing ruefully over their shoulder at that last summer that finally gave way to adulthood.
Words by Thomas Johnston
[Feature compiled by Joe Cadman]