Wicked Lyrics – All Songs from the Musical

"Wicked: Original Broadway Cast Recording" – Album Guide to Tracks and Key Scenes

Review

What if the “villain’s” album felt like the real hero’s story? The Wicked cast recording lets you live inside Elphaba’s head, not Dorothy’s shoes. Across seventy-ish minutes, it tracks two young women at Shiz University whose friendship, ambition, and politics collide until Oz itself starts to tilt. You hear gossipy Ozians, a fragile wizard, and a green girl who keeps trying to do the right thing in the wrong system.

On record, the arc is clean. We move from spectacle-heavy crowd numbers into sharp comedy, then into intimate confessions and that now-mythic Act I flight. Idina Menzel’s Elphaba sounds raw but focused, a voice that keeps punching past what the orchestra expects. Kristin Chenoweth’s Glinda sparkles on top — bright vowels, tight riffs, a comic timing you can hear even without seeing the bubble. Together they chart a friendship that starts in mockery, deepens into loyalty, and ends in a choice that still stings on the last chord.

Genre-wise, the album sits squarely in showtunes, but it cheats the edges. Big Broadway ballads carry Elphaba’s moral struggle; fizzy quasi-pop backs Glinda’s social bravado. Faux-classical flourishes announce the Wizard’s polished façade, while darker, almost rock-inflected grooves creep in as Oz slides toward authoritarian propaganda. In short: pop gloss — public image; angular harmonies — inner doubt; soaring belts — moments when someone finally tells the truth.

How It Was Made

The 2003 cast album was recorded fast, Broadway-style. The company had just frozen the show at the Gershwin Theatre when they headed into what was then Right Track Studios in New York for a one-day marathon session. Full orchestra, full cast, long hours; they essentially re-ran the musical in audio form, tightening transitions and cleaning harmonies while the ink on some staging choices was still drying.

Stephen Schwartz produced the album himself, not just composing and writing lyrics but also shaping how the score lives on speakers. He worked with engineer–producers like Frank Filipetti and mastering legend Ted Jensen, making sure dense orchestrations stayed punchy without burying lyrics. You can hear the priorities in the mix: strings and brass are lush, but consonants and punchlines stay razor-clear, so the plot makes sense even to listeners who have never seen Oz’s clockwork dragon.

Compared to earlier “Golden Age” cast albums, Wicked embraces a more contemporary studio sound — wider stereo image, some subtle reverb sweetening, tighter drum presence. Yet it still preserves live-theatre energy. Belts crack a little, ensemble breaths are audible, and chorus textures feel like bodies in a room. Later reissues (fifth-anniversary, deluxe, and 15th-anniversary editions) layered on remixes, international cast cuts, and TV special performances, but that 2003 core remains the spine everyone returns to.

Tracks & Scenes

The album doesn’t just collect songs; it sketches the whole story. Below, I’ll map key numbers to the moments they score onstage — think of it as a guided listen through Shiz, Emerald City, and beyond. Timings are approximate to the Broadway running order rather than exact counter marks on your player.

“Overture / No One Mourns the Wicked” (Company, Glinda)

Where it plays:

Very top of the show, minutes 0–7. The citizens of Oz celebrate the Wicked Witch’s supposed death as Glinda floats in by bubble. While the crowd chants and gossips, she’s asked if she knew the Witch. The overture slides into a brassy, minor-key fanfare that already hints something less clear-cut is coming.

Diegetic or not:

Mostly non-diegetic; the Ozians are “singing their feelings,” not literally performing a song. But Glinda’s public speech sits halfway between political rally and inner monologue.

Why it matters:

It frames the entire musical as a question of narrative control. The album opens on a mob that’s already decided who’s villain and who’s saint — then lets Glinda start to quietly argue with that story.

“The Wizard and I” (Elphaba)

Where it plays:

Early in Act I, shortly after Elphaba’s accidental display of magic at Shiz. We’re in Madame Morrible’s office and then in Elphaba’s imagination. She daydreams about being summoned to the Emerald City, fixing injustice, and becoming the Wizard’s right hand. Onstage, she paces and builds power; on record, you can hear the fantasy blur into obsession.

Diegetic or not:

Non-diegetic — this is Elphaba’s inner vision, scored like a classic “I want” song.

Why it matters:

The track crystallizes her original, almost naïve hope. Later songs twist the same melodic material into something darker, so this first statement is crucial; the album lets you replay the moment when she still believes the system might welcome her.

“What Is This Feeling?” (Elphaba, Glinda, Company)

Where it plays:

Still in Act I, back in the Shiz dorm. Elphaba and Galinda (not yet “Glinda”) have just been forced to room together. They write letters home, insisting they loathe each other, while classmates chime in like a mocking Greek chorus. Onstage it’s choreographed chaos; on album, the counterpoint of their complaints does the heavy lifting.

Diegetic or not:

Partly diegetic — they are literally “writing letters” — but the harmonic build takes it into full musical-theatre abstraction.

Why it matters:

It’s the friendship’s zero point, the sour baseline from which every later reconciliation grows. You hear how similar they actually are in rhythm and phrasing, even as they insist they’re opposites.

“Dancing Through Life” (Fiyero, Company)

Where it plays:

Mid Act I. Carefree prince Fiyero has just arrived at Shiz and preaches a philosophy of studied laziness. The sequence jumps from the quad to a party at the Ozdust Ballroom. Glinda weaponizes peer pressure with a “gift” hat, Nessarose watches Boq through a painful crush, and Elphaba stumbles into social humiliation that flips into acceptance.

Diegetic or not:

Mostly non-diegetic, though the ballroom band is implied. The number flows over multiple short scenes and staging pictures.

Why it matters:

The track is almost a mini-episode. It defines Fiyero’s privilege, Glinda’s capacity for cruelty and remorse, and Elphaba’s first taste of belonging. The easy groove underlines how lightly the popular kids treat choices that will shape other people’s lives.

“Popular” (Glinda)

Where it plays:

Still in Act I, late evening in the shared dorm room after the Ozdust party. Glinda has decided to “make over” Elphaba. Furniture moves, shoes fly, and she lectures on posture, hair, and the politics of likeability. On audio you hear Elphaba’s reluctant giggles and Glinda’s breathless commitment to her bit.

Diegetic or not:

Non-diegetic — it’s heightened, but rooted in a real conversation and makeover session.

Why it matters:

The song’s peppy exterior hides a brutal thesis: image shapes fate. The album nails the joke rhythms but also catches the moment Glinda’s performance cracks and genuine affection for Elphaba peeks through.

“I’m Not That Girl” (Elphaba)

Where it plays:

Quietly near the end of Act I, after Elphaba has clocked her own feelings for Fiyero and decided they’re a bad idea. The scene is simple — her alone, maybe one lamppost, maybe a corridor — but on record it feels like the show’s breath being held. Piano, small string writing, and one voice thinking itself into surrender.

Diegetic or not:

Non-diegetic, an introspective soliloquy.

Why it matters:

This is the album’s stealth heartbreaker. It shows Elphaba choosing loyalty to Glinda over her own desire, long before politics force a bigger choice. The restrained vocal contrasts beautifully with the storm to come.

“One Short Day” (Elphaba, Glinda, Company)

Where it plays:

Late in Act I, as the two friends arrive in the Emerald City. The song jumps through tourist snapshots: green-tinted boulevards, oddball citizens, and the imposing doors of the Wizard’s palace. Onstage it’s full of choreography and visual gags; the album underscores the thrill of finally reaching the center of power.

Diegetic or not:

Non-diegetic, though it riffs on the idea of a city anthem.

Why it matters:

It’s the high-point of Elphaba and Glinda’s alliance with the establishment. Musically it’s all bright brass and rhythmic chanting, so when the Wizard’s true nature emerges later, you can feel the betrayal against this earlier optimism.

“Defying Gravity” (Elphaba, Glinda, Company)

Where it plays:

Act I finale, roughly 70 minutes into the stage show. Elphaba has discovered the Wizard’s cruelty and refused to help him spin it. In the scene, she tries to flee, Glinda begs her to stay, guards storm in, and Elphaba grabs the broom that will make her a legend. The album captures the ascending key changes as she literally rises above the crowd.

Diegetic or not:

Entirely non-diegetic; this is operatic inner resolve set to sound and light.

Why it matters:

This is the Wicked track — the one most listeners know even if they never buy a ticket. It marks the moment Elphaba stops chasing institutional approval and instead accepts being “wicked” on her own terms, musically powered by that “Unlimited” motif stretching itself to a breaking point.

“Wonderful” (The Wizard, Elphaba)

Where it plays:

Act II, after the time jump. Elphaba has come back to confront the Wizard. He spins his autobiography as a charming patter song, with a bit of soft-shoe energy as he explains how perception beats truth in politics. Onstage he shows off toys and projections; on record, you just hear smooth charisma and a little desperation underneath.

Diegetic or not:

Mostly non-diegetic, but it mimics a vaudeville routine he might actually perform.

Why it matters:

The track crystallizes the show’s view of propaganda. The Wizard openly celebrates spin, and the sprightly music makes that seduction uncomfortably fun to listen to.

“As Long As You’re Mine” (Elphaba, Fiyero)

Where it plays:

Mid Act II, at Kiamo Ko. Elphaba and Fiyero hide from the chaos swirling in Oz and finally admit their feelings. The staging often keeps them wrapped in shadows and mist; on the album, the groove drops down to a low, pulsing intimacy, built on the same chords that once opened the show.

Diegetic or not:

Non-diegetic — it’s their private moment crystallized in song.

Why it matters:

This is where the score’s leitmotifs pay off. The opening’s eerie progression turns into something sensual and protective, underlining how Elphaba’s “wickedness” now includes the courage to want something for herself.

“No Good Deed” (Elphaba)

Where it plays:

Later in Act II, also at Kiamo Ko. Fiyero has apparently been captured and tortured. Elphaba tries spell after spell to save him, then finally breaks and declares she will stop trying to be “good.” Onstage the lighting closes in; vocally, this is the fiercest material Menzel gets on the album.

Diegetic or not:

Non-diegetic, a full-blown breakdown aria.

Why it matters:

If “Defying Gravity” is the public revolution, “No Good Deed” is the private one. The album’s hard rhythmic punches and snarling belts mark Elphaba’s shift into embracing the label “Wicked Witch” as armor.

“For Good” & “Finale: For Good (Reprise)” (Elphaba, Glinda, Company)

Where it plays:

Near the very end of Act II. At the castle, Glinda and Elphaba meet one last time before the world believes the Witch is dead. They acknowledge how profoundly they’ve changed each other, then stage the illusion that will let Elphaba vanish. The reprise folds this private goodbye into the public narrative of the finale.

Diegetic or not:

Non-diegetic, though it plays over concrete, plot-heavy action with the torch-bearing mob outside.

Why it matters:

On album, “For Good” has become the show’s emotional calling card — sung at graduations, farewells, memorials. It’s where the politics fall away and the story collapses down to two friends choosing different paths, but refusing to erase each other.

Notes & Trivia

• The album omits the Act II song “The Wicked Witch of the East.” Producers worried it spoiled too much plot for listeners who hadn’t yet seen the show and found it awkward to adapt for a stand-alone audio experience.
• Short reprises of “The Wizard and I” and “A Sentimental Man” also don’t appear; the recording prioritizes musical and narrative momentum over including every tiny callback.
• Gregory Maguire contributed a brief synopsis and foreword for the original CD booklet, linking the musical back to his 1995 novel while acknowledging how much the stage version reshapes his darker book.
• The score is intensely thematic. The same chord progression that drives “As Long As You’re Mine” and the opening bars also underpins “No One Mourns the Wicked,” constantly blurring love, fear, and legend.
• Schwartz hides a nod to “Over the Rainbow” inside the so-called “Unlimited” theme. It’s a little inside joke about who really gets to sing the iconic Oz melody in this version of the story.
• The 5th-anniversary edition unearthed “Making Good,” an early Elphaba song cut from the show, letting fans hear a “proto-Elphaba” wrestling with destiny in a slightly more earnest register.
• International recordings — German, Japanese, and others — reused the original orchestral tracks in some cases, with local casts singing over the New York band’s playing.
• Later film soundtracks (Wicked: The Soundtrack and Wicked: For Good – The Soundtrack) re-recorded most of these numbers with the movie cast, but the 2003 album remains the reference point everyone argues against or bows to.

Reception & Quotes

When the album first dropped in December 2003, reviews were mixed. Some critics found the score too polished, too much in dialogue with Disney and mega-musical formulas. Others already heard the craft and character detail that fans would later champion. Over time, the commercial story simply steamrolled doubts: the recording picked up the Grammy for Best Musical Show Album and climbed back onto the charts again and again, especially when the stage show opened in new territories or when the films reignited interest.

By the 2010s and 2020s, the conversation had shifted. Instead of “Is this good enough?” the question became “Which version do you love more: 2003 Broadway or the later film albums?” Many listeners stick with the stage recording for its slightly rougher edges and the chemistry between Menzel and Chenoweth, while newer fans sometimes meet the score first through the movies and then double back here.

“Tuneful and often witty, with Chenoweth getting the glittery show material and Menzel taking the adult-contemporary heart songs.” — AllMusic

“Fresh evidence that Broadway needs a new, galvanizing musical direction…yet the performances and production are lush.” — Entertainment Weekly

“What began as an underdog cast album has become a generational touchstone, outliving trends and even some of its early critiques.” — later critical reassessment

“I thought I was just buying a souvenir. Instead I got a roadmap to half my twenties.” — common fan sentiment, echoed in interviews and forums

Commercially, the album has been a slow-burn juggernaut, moving from early chart modesty to multi-platinum status over two decades. Spikes in streaming followed the show’s 10th, 15th, and 20th anniversaries, as well as the release of the two-part film adaptation.

Interesting Facts

• “Defying Gravity” and “For Good” have become real-world ceremony staples — heard at graduations, weddings, memorials, and even political rallies that borrow their language of choice and change.
• The album’s chart peak on the Billboard 200 actually arrived many years after release, boosted by anniversary marketing and the first film’s massive promotional cycle.
• A 15th-anniversary edition folded in live TV performances from the special A Very Wicked Halloween, effectively turning the album into a mini-history of how the score lives outside the proscenium.
• The German recording, using the same orchestral tracks, helped launch a long-running Stuttgart production that created its own local fandom and memes, completely in emerald German.
• Stephen Schwartz’s use of recurring motifs — especially the “Unlimited” theme — has become a popular teaching example in music-theory and dramaturgy courses.
• Because the album leaves out “The Wicked Witch of the East,” some first-time listeners were genuinely shocked when they finally saw Nessarose’s big story beat onstage.
• The cast recording quietly ties the Broadway musical to the later film soundtracks; its success made the argument that the score could carry a giant studio movie nearly two decades later.
• Fans often talk about owning multiple physical versions — original CD, anniversary reissue, colored-vinyl pressings — purely for the evolving liner notes and artwork.

Technical Info

• Title: Wicked: Original Broadway Cast Recording
• Year: 2003 (recorded November 10; released December 16)
• Type: Cast album / musical theatre soundtrack
• Primary composer–lyricist: Stephen Schwartz
• Book (stage source): Winnie Holzman, based on Gregory Maguire’s novel Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West
• Label: Decca Broadway
• Recording venue: Right Track Studios, New York City; mastered at Sterling Sound
• Principal vocal cast: Idina Menzel (Elphaba), Kristin Chenoweth (Glinda), Norbert Leo Butz (Fiyero), Joel Grey (The Wizard), Carole Shelley (Madame Morrible), Michelle Federer (Nessarose), Christopher Fitzgerald (Boq), William Youmans (Doctor Dillamond)
• Length: just over 70 minutes, 19 tracks (majority of the stage score, minus select reprises and “The Wicked Witch of the East”)
• Music direction/orchestrations: Musical supervision and vocal arrangements by Stephen Oremus; orchestrations primarily by William David Brohn
• Awards: Grammy Award for Best Musical Show Album; multiple later reissues with bonus material
• Notable editions: 5th-anniversary special edition (2008), 10th-anniversary deluxe edition (2013), 15th-anniversary edition (2019) with live TV tracks
• Chart and certification notes: Debuted modestly, later re-entered and climbed the Billboard 200, reaching a higher peak in 2024; certified multi-platinum in the U.S. after years of cumulative sales and streaming.
• Relation to other releases: Serves as the audio template for the later film soundtracks Wicked: The Soundtrack (2024) and Wicked: For Good – The Soundtrack (2025), which re-record the score with the movie cast.

Key Contributors

Questions & Answers

Do I need to know the Oz story to enjoy the album?

No. The recording includes enough narrative signposts that you can follow the friendship, politics, and key twists just by listening.

Why is “The Wicked Witch of the East” missing from the cast album?

It was left off for pacing and spoiler reasons; producers felt it was hard to present cleanly on audio without giving away crucial Act II plot turns.

Which edition should I start with in 2025?

If you’re new, start with the original 2003 album (any streaming version). Then dip into the anniversary releases for “Making Good,” international tracks, and live specials.

How different are the film soundtracks from this Broadway recording?

The film albums adjust keys, orchestrations, and some lyrics for cinematic storytelling, but the basic song order and emotional arc still mirror the 2003 cast.

Is this a good entry point if I’ve never seen a stage musical?

Yes. The album works almost like an audio drama with songs — you’ll get character, plot, and a full emotional payoff even without the visuals.

Sources: Wikipedia (Wicked musical & musical album); Wikidata; CastAlbums.org; RIAA and Billboard reports; Playbill and Broadway news features; official Wicked the Musical site; press coverage of Lencia Kebede, Allie Trimm and the 2020s Broadway company.