That Eric Alper

Some albums leave you breathless. Some leave you thinking. And some leave you standing in your living room, staring at the speaker, wondering how you’re supposed to go on with your life now that the music has stopped. The last song on an album is the final word, the lingering note, the goodbye that makes you want to start all over again.

Here are 20 of the greatest album closers of all time:

The Beatles – “A Day in the Life” (Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band)
That final, earth-shattering piano chord lingers in the air like a ghost, making “A Day in the Life” one of the most unforgettable endings in rock history. A masterpiece of structure, storytelling, and orchestration, it’s the sound of pop music realizing it could be art.

Pink Floyd – “Eclipse” (The Dark Side of the Moon)
All that you touch, all that you see, all that you taste—it all fades into the void as “Eclipse” brings The Dark Side of the Moon to a celestial conclusion. The heartbeat that bookends the album leaves you questioning whether it ever really ended at all.

The Rolling Stones – “Moonlight Mile” (Sticky Fingers)
A weary traveler’s ballad, drenched in strings and solitude, “Moonlight Mile” drifts off into the night with one of the most haunting outros in the Stones’ catalog. It’s an exhausted sigh, the sound of a long journey coming to an end.

Led Zeppelin – “When the Levee Breaks” (Led Zeppelin IV)
John Bonham’s thunderous drums alone would make this an all-time classic, but the swirling, apocalyptic production cements it. The world is crumbling, the flood is coming, and Zeppelin leaves you drenched in blues-drenched devastation.

Radiohead – “Street Spirit (Fade Out)” (The Bends)
There are sad songs, and then there’s this. Radiohead doesn’t just close The Bends—they send it off like a soul leaving its body, floating into the ether. The final words? “Immerse your soul in love.” As if you had a choice.

David Bowie – “Rock ‘n’ Roll Suicide” (The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars)
The most dramatic, theatrical, and life-affirming goodbye in rock history. Ziggy’s on the edge, screaming into the void, but at the very last second, Bowie reaches through the speakers and tells you—yes, you—that you’re not alone.

The Clash – “Train in Vain” (London Calling)
Wait, that wasn’t even listed on the album sleeve! The hidden track that became one of The Clash’s biggest hits, “Train in Vain” is an achingly bittersweet kiss-off, proving that London Calling had one more surprise up its sleeve.

Bob Dylan – “Desolation Row” (Highway 61 Revisited)
11 minutes of poetry, mythology, and absurdity, “Desolation Row” is less a song than an odyssey. Dylan leaves you wandering the streets with Einstein, Cinderella, and the Phantom of the Opera, and you’ll never want to leave.

Fleetwood Mac – “Gold Dust Woman” (Rumours)
A slow-burn descent into darkness, “Gold Dust Woman” is Fleetwood Mac at their most spellbinding. Stevie Nicks wails like she’s conjuring something out of the ether, and the song fades into oblivion—leaving you hypnotized.

The Smiths – “I Won’t Share You” (Strangeways, Here We Come)
The last song on the last Smiths album, and it feels like Morrissey and Marr knew it. A quiet, heartbreaking goodbye to one of the greatest bands of the ’80s, whispered over a simple, sighing melody.

Nirvana – “All Apologies” (In Utero)
“Everything’s my fault, I’ll take all the blame.” In hindsight, it’s impossible not to hear “All Apologies” as a farewell. It’s raw, weary, and strangely peaceful—an ending that lingers long after the final notes fade.

Prince – “Purple Rain” (Purple Rain)
Prince didn’t just close Purple Rain—he elevated it. That soaring guitar solo, the cinematic build-up, the sheer emotion in his voice… it’s not just a song, it’s a moment of transcendence.

The Cure – “Untitled” (Disintegration)
A song so delicate it feels like it might dissolve in your hands. Robert Smith’s voice barely rises above a whisper, and then, suddenly—it’s gone. A perfect, devastating ending to Disintegration.

Bruce Springsteen – “Jungleland” (Born to Run)
The last notes of Clarence Clemons’ saxophone solo hang in the air like smoke from a dying fire, and with that, Born to Run comes to an end. “Jungleland” isn’t just the end of the album—it’s the end of a dream.

The Who – “Love, Reign O’er Me” (Quadrophenia)
A storm, a prayer, a reckoning. Roger Daltrey delivers one of his most powerful vocal performances as Quadrophenia reaches its epic climax. The crashing waves, the soaring strings, the desperation in every note—it’s not just an ending, it’s a baptism.

Joy Division – “Decades” (Closer)
Haunting beyond words, “Decades” is the sound of the past collapsing into the future. Ian Curtis’ voice is distant, the synths shimmer like ghosts, and then—the silence.

Wilco – “Reservations” (Yankee Hotel Foxtrot)
A love song? A breakup song? A song about the very nature of existing? Whatever it is, “Reservations” is devastatingly beautiful. The last few minutes of ambient noise leave you suspended in space, wondering if you’ll ever land.

Simon & Garfunkel – “Bridge Over Troubled Water” (Bridge Over Troubled Water)
One of the most powerful finales in folk history, “Bridge Over Troubled Water” feels like a benediction. As the choir swells, you realize: some albums don’t just end—they ascend.

Phil Collins – “Take Me Home” (No Jacket Required)
The perfect way to end an album—so good, Collins even made it his concert closer. Hypnotic drums, soaring melodies, and an emotional weight that builds as the song carries you away. By the time it fades out, you feel like you’ve traveled the world and back.