Secret songs of the CD era: what is a hidden pregap?
One of the great losses of music‘s physical medium era is the potential for hidden songs or in-joke foibles woven into the CD’s digital manufacturing.
Be it Korn’s superstitious demand to start 1998’s Follow the Leader on track 13 after 12 tracks of silence, Nine Inch Nails’ Broken EP flashing 99 song counts on the player’s display, or the sudden fright of Nirvana’s ‘Endless, Nameless’ blasting out the speakers when forgetting to stop Nevermind‘s haunting ‘Something in the Way’ closer. Hell, Radiohead even snuck an extra booklet behind 2000’s Kid A‘s tray in the initial copies.
Another curious relic of the CD age was the pregap. On certain players, a negative time offset would be displayed, revealing the data that preceded the following track, showing as a brief minus countdown on any given track’s timecode. These two seconds or so would typically feature silence, but occasionally could be filled with a piece of music, such as Limp Bizkit‘s penchant for interludes that smatter 2000’s Chocolate Starfish and the Hot Dog Flavored Water.
Under this principle, it was entirely possible to input information in the pregap before the first track. Such nuggets were impossible to detect, as any CD player would simply read the disc’s information and begin where it was supposed to, at 0.00 “index 01” in its table of contents. While impossible to reach on Walkmans or simplified players, a typical home player with a sophisticated display could detect any preceding information on track one’s negative zone and experience it by simply ‘rewinding’ the CD from its beginning.
So, how many artists got in on the pregap fun? Well, quite a lot, although most of the inclusions were merely studio outtakes, in-joke japery, and the odd forgettable remix. 2 Many DJs snuck in their ‘Soulwax Elektronic Mix’ of Kylie Minogue’s ‘Can’t Get You Out of My Head’ on 2003’s As Heard on Radio Soulwax Pt. 2, and dour indie-Scots Arab Strap hid a version of Star Wars‘ ‘Ben Kenobi Theme’ in 1999’s Cherubs. Even grindcore losers Anal Cunt got in on the act, masking a characteristically gristly and godawful take on The Doors’ ‘Hello, I Love You’ on 1993’s Morbid Florist.
Some pregap Easter eggs serve as conceptual treats for the album they’re ensconced in. Slightly past their golden age, Public Enemy planted ‘Ferocious Soul’ at the start of 1994’s Muse Sick-n-Hour Mess Age, a rap tirade against the state of hip-hop set to a sloppy drumbeat spat by a thoroughly narked Chuck D.
Rammstein darkly included a snippet of the doomed Japan Air Lines Flight 123 disaster on Reise, Reise, and Queens of the Stone Age slipped in ‘The Real Song for the Deaf’ on 2002’s third LP, offering little more than a low bass rumble flanked by studio chatter that perfectly illustrates it’s music for the deaf angle.
On occasion, an entire song was included. Blur audaciously included ‘Me, White Noise’ for 2003’s Think Tank album, many a Blur fan going years before ever hearing what became a cult favourite until finally afforded mass exposure on streaming and expanded reissues.
