{"id":1254153,"date":"2019-02-19T06:00:00","date_gmt":"2019-02-19T03:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/analyse.optim.biz\/?p=1254153"},"modified":"2019-02-19T06:00:00","modified_gmt":"2019-02-19T03:00:00","slug":"the-50-best-movie-soundtracks-of-all-time","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/analyse.optim.biz\/?p=1254153","title":{"rendered":"The 50 Best Movie Soundtracks of All Time"},"content":{"rendered":"
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Lists & Guides<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

The 50 Best Movie Soundtracks of All Time<\/h1>\n
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From Black Panther<\/em> to Clueless<\/em>, Dazed and Confused<\/em> to Purple Rain<\/em>, the music that has defined modern filmmaking<\/div>\n
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By <\/span>Pitchfork<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/div>\n

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From left to right: Purple Rain<\/em> photo copyright Warner Bros., Marie Antoinette<\/em> photo copyright Columbia Pictures, Do the Right Thing<\/em> photo copyright Universal Pictures<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/header>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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With the Oscars coming up this Sunday, Pitchfork is celebrating with our first<\/em>\u00a0Music & Movies<\/em>\u00a0week.<\/em><\/p>\n

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What would the movies be without music? Imagine Do the Right Thing<\/em> without Radio Raheem\u2019s blaring boombox. Or Pulp Fiction<\/em> without Dick Dale\u2019s cataclysmic surf-rock guitar. Or Super Fly<\/em> without Curtis Mayfield\u2019s haunted croon. It\u2019s impossible to do.\u00a0Throughout film history, songs have added glory to struggle, majesty to landscapes, depth to heroes and villains alike. When sound and vision meet, transcendence ensues.<\/p>\n

In looking at the greatest movie music of all time, Pitchfork\u00a0is publishing\u00a0two separate lists this week: best soundtracks and best original scores. Today,\u00a0we discuss soundtracks, which we\u2019re defining as collections of songs that have been used in films. These are usually multi-artist compilation albums, and almost always include songs with vocals and lyrics.\u00a0Stay tuned for the best original scores list later\u00a0in the week. (We’re excluding musicals from\u00a0both lists, as they\u00a0feel like a different category entirely.)<\/p>\n

Though directors are often given sole credit for\u00a0a movie\u2019s soundtrack, many people help bring music to the big screen. Among them, music supervisors\u00a0are an essential and undersung part of process. These are the people who\u00a0find songs and secure their usage in films, which means they\u00a0likely played a huge\u00a0role in shaping your music taste today. So to kick things off, let\u2019s talk to one of cinema\u2019s most accomplished music supervisors.<\/p>\n

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\u201cI\u2019m a Casting Director for Music\u201d: A Conversation With Karyn Rachtman<\/h2>\n

Over the last 30 years, Karyn Rachtman\u00a0has brought her taste and business savvy to some of the most iconic soundtracks of all time:\u00a0Clueless<\/em>,\u00a0Pulp Fiction<\/em>,\u00a0Reality\u00a0 Bites<\/em>,\u00a0Romeo + Juliet<\/em>,\u00a0Moulin Rouge!<\/em>, and\u00a0Boogie Nights<\/em>, just to name a few. Rachtman, who now runs her own music supervision firm, Mind Your Music, and lives in New Zealand, called Pitchfork to talk about career hangups, convincing musicians to participate in scandalous scenes, and one unforgettable dream meeting.<\/p>\n

Pitchfork: When you\u2019re not actively working on a movie, do you look for songs to put on the back burner for future soundtracks?<\/div>\n

Karyn Rachtman: Back in the day, I was a hoarder. I could go into Tower Records with an expense account. If I liked the artwork, if somebody told me about the band, if it was from a different country, I would always pick up whatever cassette was on the shelf. Now, I\u2019m really appreciating the daily mixes on Spotify, even though I always prided myself on being that person who digs through crates. When people just send me general submissions, I usually listen to the more obscure stuff. I figure I\u2019ll hear all the pop stuff anyway, but I\u2019m not really into pop, and I don\u2019t think people are hiring me on projects because I\u2019m going to bring them a pop song.<\/p>\n

Is being a music supervisor way more business-focused than people assume?<\/div>\n

It\u2019s a creative business, but it\u2019s business. I\u2019m like the casting director for music. Like, tell me what you\u2019re looking for, I\u2019m going to get it for you. In the case of Quentin Tarantino, I got to put in my two cents on Reservoir Dogs<\/em> and Pulp Fiction<\/em>. He knew every song he wanted but he was told he couldn\u2019t have them, like Stealers Wheel\u2019s \u201cStuck in the Middle With You\u201d for Reservoir Dogs<\/em>. I didn\u2019t even have the job and I was on the phone begging and pleading Stealers Wheel members Joe Egan and Gerry Rafferty to let us use it. One of them was religious and didn\u2019t like the idea of using their song to a scene where somebody\u2019s ear gets cut off. And I had to be like, \u201cBy the way, I don\u2019t have any money.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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Paul Thomas Anderson came to me because he wanted to make sure his vision for Boogie Nights<\/em> was delivered and that he got the songs he wanted. It was very hard to get people to commit their songs in a movie about porn. It\u2019s a lot of strategy and planning. How are you going to get these people involved? Most of the time, it all comes down to how good your film is\u2014and in my early career, I worked with great directors.<\/p>\n

When you\u2019re reaching out to musicians and labels, do you always have to describe the scene?<\/div>\n

Absolutely\u2014and sometimes, you play it down. Like for Reservoir Dogs<\/em>\u2019s ear-cutting scene, I would hype up the movie, then if it\u2019s anything that might turn off the publisher or the record company or the artist, you explain the best you can. Sometimes, you selectively leave things out.<\/p>\n

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\"Karyn<\/span><\/div>\n
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Karyn Rachtman. Photo by Johnny Louis\/FilmMagic.<\/p>\n

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Which soundtracks were you most heavily involved in?<\/div>\n

I was very involved in Clueless<\/em> but it was very much [writer\/director] Amy Heckerling. Reality Bites<\/em> was very much a combination of Ben Stiller, me, and the producer. Ethan Hawke brought in a demo tape of Lisa Loeb on Reality Bites<\/em> and it went to No. 1. Have you heard the soundtrack for The SpongeBob SquarePants Movie<\/em>?<\/p>\n

I know Avril Lavigne is on it.<\/div>\n

Oh, she\u2019s the worst part. That was sad. Flaming Lips, Wilco, and Ween are on it, and I got this kooky band from Japan on this great fucking soundtrack. No offense to Avril darling Lavigne, but I was so bummed when the studio made us go with that when we had this incredible quirky record. I had to appease the corporate. Like in Reality Bites<\/em>, you know when they\u2019re sitting in the car and they\u2019re singing \u201cBaby, I Love Your Way\u201d by Peter Frampton? It\u2019s such a cute scene, but then the record company chose a reggae cover of it. It\u2019s so lame. I\u2019m recalling these memories of being angry.<\/p>\n

What\u2019s the business of soundtracks like now, in the age of streaming?<\/div>\n

It\u2019s really interesting. I took a big break from doing soundtracks and I\u2019m back in it now. Around 2000 I started to notice people weren\u2019t buying records. I think for a while there was a lull where soundtracks weren\u2019t as hot or sexy but now, the music industry\u2019s coming back. The resurgence of vinyl helps. There are some great TV soundtracks now, like \u201cRussian Doll,\u201d which uses Harry Nilsson\u2019s \u201cGotta Get Up\u201d many times. Harry Nilsson means everything to me. One day when I was really depressed, I remember saying to myself, \u201cIt\u2019s OK, Karyn, one day you\u2019re going to meet Harry Nilsson.\u201d Then I was doing Reservoir Dogs<\/em> and Quentin didn\u2019t have an end title song. I suggested using \u201cCoconut\u201d by Harry Nilsson, and Quentin said OK. I had to show Harry the film, so I got to meet Harry Nilsson.\u00a0That was a pivotal moment in my life.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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Interview by Kristen Yoonsoo Kim<\/em><\/p>\n

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Listen to selections from this list on our Spotify playlist and Apple Music playlist.<\/p>\n

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\"Immortal<\/span><\/div>\n
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Immortal \/ Epic Soundtrax<\/p>\n

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50.<\/div>\n

Judgment Night<\/em> (1993)<\/h2>\n

Judgment Night<\/em> is\u00a0a\u00a0forgettable film about a drug-related murder, but its soundtrack maintains a deserved infamy thanks to its peculiar but effective pairing of rappers and rock groups. The real-life mashups of Sonic Youth and Cypress Hill, Biohazard and Onyx, Slayer and Ice-T were seedy, gruff, and electrifying upon release\u2014but mostly, the overall effect was abrasively odd, heavy with middle-school anarchist lyrics like, \u201cChaos, chaos, chaos, chaos\/Don\u2019t give a fuck!\u201d The soundtrack is like a time capsule from an alternate universe, and you can credit (and blame) it, in part, for rap-rock.\u00a0\u2013Matthew Schnipper<\/p>\n

Listen:<\/strong> Sonic Youth and Cypress Hill, \u201cI Love You Mary Jane\u201d<\/p>\n

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\"Hollywood\"<\/span><\/div>\n
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Hollywood<\/p>\n

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49.<\/div>\n

High Fidelity<\/em> (2000)<\/h2>\n

To this day, High Fidelity<\/em> remains Bruce Springsteen\u2019s only acting credit in a film. Sitting at the bedside of Rob Gordon\u2014the film\u2019s record-collecting hero, played with mopey, proto-Seth Cohen narcissism by John Cusack\u2014a muscled \u201990s Bruce rips uncharacteristically bluesy riffs on his guitar and gives questionable advice about getting back in touch with your exes. \u201cThey\u2019d feel good, maybe,\u201d drawls the Boss. \u201cBut you\u2019d<\/em> feel better.\u201d Here is the ultimate fantasy of music fandom: the artists you love speaking directly to you<\/em>, about your<\/em> problems, at the expense of everyone else in the world.<\/p>\n

High Fidelity<\/em>\u2019s soundtrack was tasked with summarizing this mindset in a tidy 15 tracks, and its curation was apparently one of the most difficult tasks in bringing Nick Hornby\u2019s 1995 book to the screen. The 2000 film succeeds by blending old-school favorites (the Kinks, Elvis Costello, the Velvet Underground) with some of the\u00a0previous decade\u2019s\u00a0most promising newcomers (Smog, Stereolab, Royal Trux). With no new music written specifically for the film\u00a0(other than Jack Black\u2019s in-character rendition of \u201cLet\u2019s Get It On\u201d) it reintroduced the idea of the soundtrack as a lovingly crafted mixtape, a trend that extended toward Garden State<\/em> and beyond. \u2013Sam Sodomsky<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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Listen:<\/strong> The Velvet Underground, \u201cOh! Sweet Nuthin\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n

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Warner Bros.<\/p>\n

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48.<\/div>\n

The Shining<\/em> (1980)<\/h2>\n

More than a decade after\u00a02001: A Space Odyssey<\/em>, director Stanley Kubrick reused\u00a0a\u00a0controversial trick.\u00a0Once again, he\u00a0scrapped almost all of the score that had been written for his new film,\u00a0The Shining<\/em>\u2014this time by\u00a0synth innovator Wendy Carlos, who had been essential to\u00a0A Clockwork Orange,<\/em>\u00a0and producer\/vocalist Rachel Elkind\u2014and used only snatches of their work.\u00a0In the final cut, their\u00a0sepulchral electronics\u00a0are only heard\u00a0in the early scene where the Torrance family navigates the steep\u00a0roads\u00a0to their fateful hotel. Still, it is the defining piece of the film, its familiar lumbering rhythm and simple melody haunted by an unease you can never quite identify. In it,\u00a0Carlos establishes the essence of the creeping dread that dominates\u00a0the Overlook Hotel. (The rest of Carlos\u2019 unused score is absolutely worth seeking out, in part to reimagine the ways it might have changed\u00a0The Shining<\/em>\u00a0and in part because it\u2019s terrifying.)<\/p>\n

For the rest of\u00a0his\u00a0film,\u00a0Kubrick opted for the oversized melodrama of modern Eastern European classical music, with the strains of Krzysztof Penderecki\u2019s shrieking strings and Gy\u00f6rgy Ligeti\u2019s orchestral lurches hinting at premonitions and fears left unspoken. Ligeti\u2019s creeping \u201cLontano\u201d poisons moments that should be playful or even innocent; B\u00e9la Bart\u00f3k\u2019s \u201cMusic for Strings, Percussion and Celesta\u201d gives little Danny\u2019s tricycle romps the terror of a sweaty nightmare. But\u00a0The Shining<\/em>, to an extent, is about haunted spaces, so Kubrick uses period pieces\u2014most famously, Ray Noble and his Orchestra\u2019s drifting ballroom ballad \u201cMidnight, the Stars, and You\u201d\u2014to pull ghosts into an unraveling present. These pieces become essential props, as symbolic as Jack\u2019s typewriter\u00a0and as\u00a0alarming as rivers of blood rushing out of\u00a0elevators, shaping a latticework of horror that feels as eternal as whatever lurks in Room 237. \u2013Grayson Haver Currin<\/p>\n

Listen:<\/strong> Ray Noble and His Orchestra, \u201cMidnight, the Stars, and You\u201d<\/p>\n

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\"Arista\"<\/span><\/div>\n
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Arista<\/p>\n

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47.<\/div>\n

Waiting to Exhale<\/em> (1995)<\/h2>\n

The Waiting to Exhale<\/em> soundtrack, with its signature soul snares and weightless melodies, is still an essential self-care listen. On it, producer-songwriter Babyface assembled an Avengers team of the most powerful and graceful women in R&B, relaying the film\u2019s themes of female empowerment, individuality, and kinship.\u00a0It became one of the 15 highest-selling soundtracks of all time, going seven times platinum, and includes a laundry list of moody \u201990s hits. The invincible Whitney Houston sounds supremely comfortable paired with Babyface\u2019s soothing drums on \u201cExhale,\u201d Chaka Khan\u2019s smoky rendition of \u201cMy Funny Valentine\u201d shines over the woozy R&B snap-filled melody, and Brandy\u2019s funky \u201cSittin\u2019 Up in My Room\u201d\u00a0serves as a youthful dance anthem. The soundtrack is an uplifting and joyful ode to black women\u2019s power and love, especially for themselves. \u2013Alphonse Pierre<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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Listen:<\/strong> Chaka Khan, \u201cMy Funny Valentine\u201d<\/p>\n

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\"Trunk\"<\/span><\/div>\n
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Trunk<\/p>\n

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46.<\/div>\n

The Wicker Man<\/em> (1973)<\/h2>\n

The Wicker Man<\/em> is never what you expect it to be. Like its hero, a Scottish police sergeant trying to find a missing girl in a pagan community, the New York musician Paul Giovanni was a stranger to the old Celtic folkways he was hired to investigate for Robin Hardy\u2019s haunting horror film. His outsider\u2019s ear for both the then-booming British folk scene and its ancient antecedents made the music he composed the ideal mirror for\u00a0such a twisted journey. The opening song is a tightly harmonized adaptation of Scottish poet Robert Burns\u2019 \u201cThe Highland Widow\u2019s Lament,\u201d nearly abrasive in its mournful mountain-air beauty. Sex is a frequent topic for the film and music, rendered in forms both profane (the absolutely filthy drinking song \u201cThe Landlord\u2019s Daughter\u201d) and sacred (\u201cWillow\u2019s Song,\u201d the set\u2019s dirty-minded but gorgeous standout). Rousing community singalongs and sparse hymns of ritual sacrifice weave conflicting narratives of their own. It\u2019s a soundtrack that casts strange shadows and remains ungraspable, like a tongue of flame. \u2013Sean T. Collins<\/p>\n

Listen:<\/strong> Paul Giovanni, \u201cWillow\u2019s Song\u201d<\/p>\n

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TDE \/ Aftermath \/ Interscope<\/p>\n

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45.<\/div>\n

Black Panther<\/em> (2018)<\/h2>\n

Before this soundtrack, Kendrick Lamar\u2019s vision of Africa was vague. He endorsed a \u201cZulu love\u201d and wanted to be\u00a0adored like Nelson Mandela, but these gestures used Africa as a hazy proxy of blackness. The Black Panther<\/em> soundtrack gives\u00a0such ideas more life and dimension, rooting them in the voices and sounds of a fuller African diaspora. Linking artists from Canada, California, South Africa, and the United Kingdom, Kendrick renders blackness as global and multifaceted.<\/p>\n

It\u2019s funny that this expansion occurs through a historically corny comic book character now owned by Disney, but that odd backdrop isn\u2019t taken for granted. Superhero comics traffic in wish fulfillment, and imagination is in abundance here. SOB X RBE perform as rowdy anti-heroes; Future villainously celebrates his sexual conquests with giggly scats; Zacari and Babes Wodumo resolve conflict through sensual dance. The soundtrack falls flat when the ideas are too basic,\u00a0but the record generally rises to the occasion, positioning Kendrick and the many worlds he links as parts of a brilliant whole. Wakanda is a zany idea, and in Kendrick and co.\u2019s hands, it almost feels real. \u2013Stephen Kearse<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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Listen:<\/strong> SOB X RBE, \u201cParamedic!\u201d<\/p>\n

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\"London<\/span><\/div>\n
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London \/ Domino<\/p>\n

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44.<\/div>\n

Gummo<\/em> (1997)<\/h2>\n

Harmony Korine burst on the film scene in the mid-\u201990s like a problematic Robert Bresson, obsessed with cinematic voyeurism and heavy metal. The art-house prodigy supposedly cast his debut film in less than an hour \u201cout of, like, Burger Kings and slaughterhouses,\u201d which gives Gummo<\/em> a very Cassavetes-covered-in-rats feel, and its soundtrack further carved out a niche for Korine\u2019s sublime, nihilistic worldview. Speed riffs and morbid howls from \u201990s black, death, and stoner metal cut into the film\u2019s unsettling v\u00e9rit\u00e9 scenes, but his use of pop music stands out even more. A snippet of Madonna\u2019s \u201cLike a Prayer\u201d blasts as a gawky young boy tapes a bundle of utensils together and \u201clifts weights\u201d in his basement. The movie ends in the pouring rain while the entirety of Roy Orbison\u2019s \u201cCrying\u201d plays, as a mute boy wearing bunny ears gets kissed in a pool and then holds up a dead cat as a prize for the audience. The song swells magnificently, creating dirtbag art at its finest. \u2013Jeremy D. Larson<\/p>\n

Listen:<\/strong> Sleep, \u201cSome Grass\u201d<\/p>\n

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MCA<\/p>\n

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43.<\/div>\n

American Graffiti<\/em> (1973)<\/h2>\n

American Graffiti<\/em> is a hall-of-mirrors of nostalgia, and music guides the experience. George Lucas\u2019 film unfolds over one long night at the end of summer 1962, as high school kids cruise around the streets of Modesto, California, with the radio on, thinking about their futures. The hits they hear\u2014by Buddy Holly, the Beach Boys, Frankie Lymon & the Teenagers, and Chuck Berry\u2014are presented by Wolfman Jack, the legendary disc jockey hosting the show they\u2019re all glued to. These songs mostly date from the mid-to-late \u201950s, so by \u201962, for the characters in the film, they already carry the ache of time gone by. This longing is echoed and amplified by Lucas, who is looking back on this transitional moment a decade later, when he and his generation of Baby Boomers were about to turn 30.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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American Graffiti<\/em>\u2019s soundtrack itself has a yearning eloquence: The two-LP set consists of the songs featured in the film in the order they appear, and it retains Wolfman\u2019s intros and hepcat patter. So it\u2019s not just a collection of songs used or a sampler of timeless hits from the era\u2014it was also a way to relive the experience at home in the pre-VCR era, an audio prompt encouraging your mind to dream the pictures. \u2013Mark Richardson<\/p>\n

Listen:<\/strong> The Beach Boys, \u201cSurfin\u2019 Safari\u201d<\/p>\n

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Epic<\/p>\n

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42.<\/div>\n

Singles<\/em> (1992)<\/h2>\n

When one of the most famous songs in \u201cPortlandia\u201d\u00a0refers to the \u201cdream of the \u201990s\u201d being alive in the Pacific Northwest,\u00a0they\u2019re singing about the dream of\u00a0Singles<\/em>. In 1992, Seattle\u2019s grunge\u00a0scene\u00a0met an\u00a0American economic boom,\u00a0and the earnestness of the era translated into a soundtrack with\u00a0an\u00a0edifice of deepness but a heart full of jangle. Surprisingly, among tracks from Pearl Jam, Alice in Chains, and Soundgarden, it\u2019s \u201cDyslexic Heart\u201d by the Replacements\u2019 Paul Westerberg that stands up as the most memorable\u2014his \u201cna na na\u201d refrain\u00a0is probably the one that’s been\u00a0stuck in your head for the past 27 years, and deservedly so. \u2013Matthew Schnipper<\/p>\n

Listen:<\/strong> Paul Westerberg, \u201cDyslexic Heart\u201d<\/p>\n

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\"United<\/span><\/div>\n
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United Artists<\/p>\n

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41.<\/div>\n

Midnight Cowboy<\/em> (1969)<\/h2>\n

Midnight Cowboy<\/em>\u2019s soundtrack melds original material and pre-existing songs with seamless grace. Much like the film\u2019s two central characters\u2014Jon Voight\u2019s wannabe sex worker cowboy and Dustin Hoffman\u2019s sickly con artist\u2014they are opposite forces that create an unlikely harmony. Crucially, Harry Nilsson\u2019s \u201cEverybody\u2019s Talkin\u2019,\u201d a cover of Fred Neil\u2019s country folk ballad, bookends the film. In the beginning, the melodic jangle of the guitars captures the optimism and na\u00efvet\u00e9 of a cowboy leaving the South for the big city. Yet the lyrics of escapism and new pastures\u2014\u201cI\u2019m going where the sun keeps shining\/Through the pouring rain\u201d\u2014also\u00a0reflects\u00a0the character\u2019s final journey as he leaves the city.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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Likewise, John Barry\u2019s main theme is embedded in the film; its mournful, fragile solo harmonica underscores the pair\u2019s loneliness and detachment as they navigate an unforgiving city. Subtle yet sweeping strings float behind, a far cry from Barry\u2019s bold, striking stringwork in \u201cThe James Bond Theme\u201d\u2014instead they appear here as a ghostly presence. During the Warhol party scene, the psychedelic rock of Elephants Memory (who later became John Lennon and Yoko Ono\u2019s backing band) adds another dimension to a soundtrack that is as eclectic as it is singular. \u2013Daniel Dylan Wray<\/p>\n

Listen:<\/strong> Harry Nilsson, \u201cEverybody\u2019s Talkin\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n

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\"MCA\"<\/span><\/div>\n
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MCA<\/p>\n

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40.<\/div>\n

Brown Sugar<\/em> (2002)<\/h2>\n

The\u00a0Brown Sugar<\/em>\u00a0soundtrack is perfect because every time a song plays in the film, it connects directly with Taye Diggs\u2019 outfit. Early on, when we\u2019re meeting his character, Dre\u2014a high-powered A&R man for the definitely-a-scam Millennium Records, wearing his best get-money suit\u2014Mos Def\u2019s \u201cBreakdown\u201d blares imperially. Then, as Diggs begins to realize he\u2019s in love with his childhood friend, Sidney, and pulls out his skintight turtleneck to prepare for some deep thoughts, the soundtrack offers up Erykah Badu and Common\u2019s duet \u201cLove of My Life.\u201d Finally, when Dre wins the love of Sidney, wearing a white sweater fit for a Macy\u2019s ad, in kicks Mos Def\u2019s heartfelt, Kanye West-produced jam \u201cBrown Sugar.\u201d The whole soundtrack is spiritually\u2014and sartorially\u2014aligned with the best of what early-2000s R&B and hip-hop had to offer. \u2013Alphonse Pierre<\/p>\n

Listen:<\/strong> Erykah Badu, \u201cLove of My Life (An Ode to Hip-Hop)\u201d [ft. Common]<\/p>\n

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\"Work<\/span><\/div>\n
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Work \/ Sony<\/p>\n

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39.<\/div>\n

The Last Days of Disco<\/em> (1998)<\/h2>\n

The nightclub at the heart of Whit Stillman\u2019s film, set in the early \u201980s, is a hotbed of drama: girl-on-girl pettiness, sexual psychodramas, and fraudulent schemes. And most of the characters are self-centered, privileged white yuppies. But somehow New York\u2019s most insufferable people still make the city feel intoxicating, especially when their carousing is soundtracked with so many hits. When the film opens with Carol Douglas\u2019 euphoric pop song \u201cDoctor\u2019s Orders,\u201d it is so healing that we momentarily forget how this club\u2014and the entire community it represents\u2014is already doomed. Dancefloor anthems from Chic, Diana Ross, and Sister Sledge drop back-to-back, with all the urgency of a DJ trying to preserve their dying scene for one last night. Though the film was made nearly 20 years after disco\u2019s heyday, its\u00a0energy feels both of a time and timeless. Even as it stages disco\u2019s funeral, the film captures that feeling of hearing \u201cGood Times\u201d at the club while shyly sipping on a vodka tonic, pushing off daylight for a little longer. \u2013Kristen Yoonsoo Kim<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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Listen:<\/strong> Carol Douglas, \u201cDoctor\u2019s Orders\u201d<\/p>\n

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\"Warner<\/span><\/div>\n
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Warner Bros.<\/p>\n

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38.<\/div>\n

Performance<\/em> (1970)<\/h2>\n

In Donald Cammell and Nicolas Roeg\u2019s\u00a0Performance<\/em>, Mick Jagger serves as a cultural readymade, preloaded with associations as the singer of the 1960s\u2019 most dangerous and Dionysian rock band. Fittingly, the soundtrack resembles a parallel-world Rolling Stones album. Producer Jack Nitzsche, an architect of Phil Spector\u2019s Wall of Sound, had also played keyboards on four of the Stones\u2019 peak-period LPs. Singer Merry Clayton, the show-stealing elemental force on \u201cGimme Shelter,\u201d dominates here with her unique brand of psychedelic, psychotic gospel: jousting with Bernie Krause\u2019s sinister Moog on the title track, humming and moaning with hair-raising intensity on the climactic \u201cTurner\u2019s Murder.\u201d Randy Newman\u2019s rasp and Ry Cooder\u2019s slide guitar align fully with the Stones’ sound circa \u201cHonky Tonk Women.\u201d Nitzsche\u2019s own compositions are somewhat slight by comparison, but he does offer a supremely late-\u201960s decadence title in \u201cRolls Royce and Acid.\u201d There\u2019s also a terrific turn from Jagger himself on \u201cMemo From Turner,\u201d in which he fuses his own insolent white-blues persona with the psyche of an East London gangster. Roeg would try the pop-star gambit once more with Bowie on\u00a0The Man Who Fell to Earth<\/em>, but while that film vies with\u00a0Performance<\/em>\u00a0for Greatest Rock Movie Ever, the film\u2019s soundtrack pales next to its Jagger-infused predecessor. \u2013Simon Reynolds<\/p>\n

Listen:<\/strong> Mick Jagger, \u201cMemo From Turner\u201d<\/p>\n

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\"Hollywood\"<\/span><\/div>\n
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Hollywood<\/p>\n

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37.<\/div>\n

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind<\/em> (2004)<\/h2>\n

Perennial L.A. cult figure Jon Brion\u2019s Eternal Sunshine<\/em>of the Spotless Mind<\/em>\u00a0score, rich in filigree, has all the hallmarks of his own music and his more pointillist collaborations with Fiona Apple, though the brief cues often pull up agonizingly short of fully realizing that promise. But the bruised heartache that left his solo album on the major-label shelf for years was the perfect match for a film that crystallized the impossibility of a perfect love, exploding into its ultimate form with Beck\u2019s devastating cover of the Korgis\u2019 \u201cEverybody\u2019s Got to Learn Sometime.\u201d Even the most invested follower of Brion\u2019s work\u00a0would\u2019ve been surprised by his trajectory after this soundtrack, which\u00a0elevated him from a f\u00eated figure within\u00a0a tight local scene to a go-to collaborator for Kanye West and Spoon. \u2013Laura Snapes<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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Listen:<\/strong> Beck, \u201cEverybody\u2019s Got to Learn Sometime\u201d<\/p>\n

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\"Verve<\/span><\/div>\n
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Verve Forecast<\/p>\n

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36.<\/div>\n

Marie Antoinette<\/em> (2006)<\/h2>\n

Being a teenager sucks, especially when your excessive partying manages to piss off an entire nation. That\u2019s the gist of Sofia Coppola\u2019s courtiers-and-Converses film\u00a0Marie Antoinette<\/em>, a pop-art explosion that attempts to view Antoinette\u2019s fraught time on the French throne through the lens of her rushed adolescence. The film\u2019s expertly curated soundtrack channels that teenage essence more effectively than the film itself; alongside selected harpischord sonatas and understated piano, the dystopian majesty of Siouxsie and the Banshees\u2019 \u201cHong Kong Garden\u201d reigns, an extended string-laden intro adding to the pomp and circumstance. The Cure and the Strokes are present and accounted for, while the Radio Dept.\u2019s gorgeously hazy indie pop perfectly complements the natural-light approach of cinematographer Lance Acord. Although the soundtrack\u2019s intentional anachronisms fueled the \u201cpop video\u201d criticisms the film initially faced, its embrace of teenage alienation and abandon feels universal. \u2013Larry Fitzmaurice<\/p>\n

Listen:<\/strong>\u00a0Siouxsie and the Banshees, \u201cHong Kong Garden\u201d<\/p>\n

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\"DRG\"<\/span><\/div>\n
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DRG<\/p>\n

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35.<\/div>\n

Withnail and I<\/em> (1987)<\/h2>\n

Following two struggling actors with an unquenchable thirst for drinks and drugs,\u00a0Withnail and I<\/em>\u00a0is a British cult favorite that captures the last gasp of London\u2019s swinging\u00a0\u201960s and the hangover after. Music is used sparsely and wisely in the film; the acerbic, caustic, and cripplingly funny dialogue often needs little assistance. When it is employed, it\u2019s brilliant: King Curtis\u2019 live cover of Procol Harum\u2019s \u201cA Whiter Shade of Pale\u201d clogs the screen as densely as the cigarette smoke that fills\u00a0our\u00a0antiheroes\u2019\u00a0apartment, amping up the claustrophobia as the camera pans across a tableau of domestic misery and filth. Jimi Hendrix screeches from the speakers as the pair leaves London, booze firmly in hand; once they\u2019re in the countryside, the original music of David Dundas and Rick Wentworth conjures a more pastoral and melancholic tone. The clash between potent rock and more plaintive acoustic folk captures the main characters\u2019 duality:\u00a0Withnail (Richard E. Grant) is all pomp and exuberance, with \u201cI\u201d (Paul McGann) as his sensitive foil. \u201cWithnail\u2019s Theme,\u201d by Dundas and Wentworth, has a fairground quality, woozy and disorienting, mimicking the young wastrel\u2019s constant drunkenness. The entire soundtrack has a similarly intoxicating effect. \u2013Daniel Dylan Wray<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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Listen:<\/strong> Dundas and Wentworth, \u201cWithnail\u2019s Theme\u201d<\/p>\n

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\"Maverick\"<\/span><\/div>\n
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Maverick<\/p>\n

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34.<\/div>\n

Kill Bill Vol. 1 & 2<\/em> (2003, 2004)<\/h2>\n

Quentin Tarantino is a self-proclaimed vinyl nerd, a collector who often conceptualizes scenes by sorting through his stacks for the perfect sound. His\u00a0Kill Bill<\/em>\u00a0films are breathless\u00a0acts of pastiche, splicing together interpretations of Blaxploitation, spaghetti Western, martial arts, and even anime into Uma Thurman\u2019s pursuit of vengeance. Likewise, the dual soundtracks serve as sort of auditory hyperlinks, musical keys to Tarantino\u2019s catacomb of references. Both volumes swing wildly, from Luis Bacalov\u2019s somber Old West mix of strings and harmonica to the irrepressible thrust of Isaac Hayes\u2019 \u201cRun Fay Run,\u201d from the pan flute vibes of Gheorghe Zamfir to the funk-rock bombast of Japanese guitarist Tomoyasu Hotei. Bits of dialogue and incidental music from RZA weave these fragments together, turning\u00a0the sets into personal listening sessions of Tarantino\u2019s cherished\u00a0finds. Nearly two decades on, the results feel prescient of our current curator culture,\u00a0in which\u00a0you\u2019re allowed an intimate peek\u00a0into\u00a0a sharp mind. \u2013Grayson Haver Currin<\/p>\n

Listen:<\/strong> Isaac Hayes, \u201cRun Fay Run\u201d<\/p>\n

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\"Capitol\"<\/span><\/div>\n
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Capitol<\/p>\n

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33.<\/div>\n

Clueless<\/em> (1995)<\/h2>\n

If in the summer of 1995, while driving your Jeep to the mall to pick up some knee socks from Contempo Casuals, you tuned into your local modern rock radio station, there was a 90 percent chance you\u2019d hear an artist from the Clueless<\/em>\u00a0soundtrack.\u00a0Spanning meat-and-potatoes alt-rock (Counting Crows, Cracker), ska (the Mighty Mighty Bosstones), Britpop (Supergrass, the Lightning Seeds), pop-punk (the Muffs, the Smoking Popes), and even, in Cher Horowitz\u2019s words, \u201cmaudlin\u201d \u201ccry-baby\u201d music (Radiohead! As if!), these 14 tracks embodied the wild, anything-goes, post-Nirvana era when tiny bands suddenly found themselves with major label deals and huge Hollywood film syncs. This collection of songs doesn\u2019t make much sense, but somehow works together perfectly when cocooned inside the delightfully absurd world of the film\u2014just like one of Cher\u2019s outfits. \u2013Amy Phillips<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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Listen:<\/strong> Supergrass, \u201cAlright\u201d<\/p>\n

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\"Sony\"<\/span><\/div>\n
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Sony<\/p>\n

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32.<\/div>\n

I\u2019m Not There<\/em> (2007)<\/h2>\n

I\u2019m Not There<\/em>\u00a0isn\u2019t really a Bob Dylan biopic; it\u2019s more of a kaleidoscopic array of freewheelin\u2019 riffs on a legend. In Todd Haynes\u2019 film, Dylan is played by several different actors, including Richard Gere, Heath Ledger, Christian Bale, and (most memorably) an astoundingly convincing Cate Blanchett, who inhabits the singer\u2019s amphetamine-fueled mid-\u201960s era with ease. Fittingly,\u00a0I\u2019m Not There<\/em>\u2019s expansive soundtrack\u00a0gives a wide range of artists free reign to reimagine Dylan classics and deep cuts. Sonic Youth expertly navigate the enigmatic twists and turns of the title track. Cat Power\u2019s Chan Marshall savors every syllable on a rollicking \u201cStuck Inside of Mobile With the Memphis Blues Again.\u201d\u00a0Willie Nelson\u00a0and\u00a0Calexico\u00a0team up for a haunted rendition of \u201cSe\u00f1or (Tales of Yankee Power)\u201d that might even surpass Dylan\u2019s original. Sure, the less said about Jack Johnson\u2019s milquetoast reading of \u201cMama You\u2019ve Been on My Mind\/A Fraction of Last Thoughts on Woody Guthrie,\u201d the better\u2014but overall,\u00a0I\u2019m Not There<\/em>\u00a0is a stellar companion to an ambitious film. \u2013Tyler Wilcox<\/p>\n

Listen:<\/strong>\u00a0Cat Power, \u201cStuck Inside of Mobile With the Memphis Blues Again\u201d<\/p>\n

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\"Giant\"<\/span><\/div>\n
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Giant<\/p>\n

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31.<\/div>\n

Dazed and Confused<\/em> (1993)<\/h2>\n

Set in the hazy purgatory of the last day of middle and high school,\u00a0Dazed and Confused<\/em>\u00a0put smoky, untenable moments of teenage ennui on celluloid. And even if your own awkward adolescence didn\u2019t include cruising around a still-weird Austin in the mid-\u201970s, the film\u2019s soundtrack lets you ride shotgun in a Chevy Chevelle with the 8-track deck on full blast. Forgoing classic rock fodder\u2014meaning no\u00a0appearance of Led Zeppelin\u2019s own \u201cDazed and Confused\u201d\u2014director Richard Linklater instead highlights the era\u2019s glut of butt-rock, to thrilling results. The soaring, gleeful choruses of Alice Cooper\u2019s \u201cSchool\u2019s Out\u201d and the Runaways\u2019 \u201cCherry Bomb\u201d are pheromonal joys, and the soundtrack finds stoned profundity in the grunts of Ted Nugent and Rick Derringer. It even transforms Foghat\u2019s \u201cSlow Ride\u201d into something approaching a mantra. \u2013Andy Beta<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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Listen:<\/strong> The Runaways, \u201cCherry Bomb\u201d<\/p>\n

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\"CBS\"<\/span><\/div>\n
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CBS<\/p>\n

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30.<\/div>\n

The Graduate<\/em> (1967)<\/h2>\n

While filming\u00a0The Graduate<\/em>, director Mike Nichols received a copy of Simon & Garfunkel\u2019s 1966 record\u00a0Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme,<\/em>\u00a0and heard\u00a0what he needed to bring his lost-soul characters to life. Nichols\u2019 request was met by skepticism from the folk duo (Paul Simon called the source novel \u201cbad Salinger\u201d) but, in the end, he used two songs from\u00a0Parsley<\/em>\u00a0and two from\u00a0Sounds of Silence<\/em>\u2014plus a new one from the pair, \u201cMrs. Robinson.\u201d Simon & Garfunkel\u2019s music\u00a0deepened the alienation felt by the film\u2019s protagonist (Dustin Hoffman) and seemingly everyone else in the film, too.\u00a0\u201cThe Sounds of Silence\u201d is especially emblematic, used on multiple occasions to channel generational anxiety and uncertain futures, while \u201cMrs. Robinson\u201d serves as a blithe little ode that has more to do with mourning great men than chasing its alluring title\u00a0character. Although Simon & Garfunkel are often given full credit for the soundtrack off the back of that hit, contributions from composer Dave Grusin also provide atmospheric embellishments. Together, they made\u00a0The Graduate<\/em>\u00a0one of the first films to be defined largely by its music, and one of the earliest examples of a director curating pre-existing radio-friendly pop for a film. \u2013Quinn Moreland<\/p>\n

Listen:<\/strong> Simon & Garfunkel, \u201cMrs. Robinson\u201d<\/p>\n

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\"ABKCO\"<\/span><\/div>\n
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ABKCO<\/p>\n

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29.<\/div>\n

Frances Ha<\/em> (2012)<\/h2>\n

In\u00a0Frances\u00a0Ha<\/em>, Greta Gerwig and Noah Baumbach\u2019s monochrome dramedy,\u00a0Gerwig\u2019s title character\u00a0dances across New York streets to David Bowie\u2019s \u201cModern Love.\u201d The scene is an homage to Leo Carax\u2019s 1986 drama\u00a0Mauvais Sang<\/em>, in which its protagonist\u00a0stumbles through the dark streets of Paris to the\u00a0song.\u00a0But while the original scene is brooding and intense,\u00a0Frances Ha<\/em>\u2019s take is lighthearted and goofy,\u00a0capturing the film\u2019s frank portrayal of directionless 20-somethings in New York.\u00a0Echoing the French New Wave\u00a0tribute\u00a0of its cinematography,\u00a0Frances Ha<\/em>\u00a0sets its\u00a0gleeful millennial moments\u00a0to\u00a0works\u00a0by the venerable French composers Georges Delerue and Antoine Duhamel. And when Frances finally takes a weekend trip to Paris, she wanders around aimlessly to Hot Chocolate\u2019s goopy \u201970s funk hit \u201cEvery 1\u2019s a Winner.\u201d The film\u2019s eclectic soundtrack mirrors the disparity between Frances\u2019 current life and her goals: The American pop captures her hardscrabble ambition, while the cinematic French\u00a0fare is the effortless stylishness she aspires to. \u2013Michelle Hyun Kim<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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Listen:<\/strong> Hot Chocolate, \u201cEvery 1\u2019s a Winner\u201d<\/p>\n

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\"Interscope\"<\/span><\/div>\n
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Interscope<\/p>\n

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28.<\/div>\n

Above the Rim<\/em> (1994)<\/h2>\n

A fatal basketball game. A retired basketball player who missed his shot. A young and gifted hothead who needs guidance. Above the Rim<\/em> is a very by-the-numbers sports movie, but it\u2019s focused, never losing sight of its main goal: conveying the glory of basketball. It\u2019s charming, then, that the soundtrack doesn\u2019t care about basketball at all. Released by Death Row Records during the label\u2019s heyday, the soundtrack is a nonstop parade of brash G-funk, horny R&B, and breezy new jack swing. Its blissed-out grooves and hip-rocking arrangements are so removed from the anxious melodrama of the film, it\u2019s kind of cheeky.<\/p>\n

The way Death Row stacked the record with an all-star lineup of its own talent\u2014Dr. Dre, Lady of Rage, Tha Dogg Pound, Nate Dogg, Snoop\u2014can give the soundtrack a transactional feel, but the movie slyly benefits from the optics. As West Coast artists blare from the speakers of the main antagonist\u2019s New York club, home, and vehicles, you know that he is playing\u2014and winning\u2014a very different game from the players on the court. The soundtrack highlights that distance, and if you\u2019re seeking respite from the silliness of the movie, it treats you very well. \u2013Stephen Kearse<\/p>\n

Listen:<\/strong> The Lady of Rage, \u201cAfro Puffs\u201d<\/p>\n

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\"Capitol<\/span><\/div>\n
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Capitol \/ Miramax<\/p>\n

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27.<\/div>\n

Good Will Hunting<\/em> (1997)<\/h2>\n

Ben Affleck\u00a0once described\u00a0the original script of\u00a0Good Will Hunting<\/em>\u00a0as having \u201ca very\u00a0Beverly Hills Cop<\/em>,\u00a0Midnight Run<\/em>\u00a0sensibility, where the kids from Boston were giving the NSA the slip all the time.\u201d Thank God that died on the vine; a hotshot spy flick (powered by…\u00a0math<\/em>?) would have no room for Robin Williams to give the most compassionate performance of his career, nor any for Elliott Smith to\u00a0lend his own heartsick genius to its soundtrack. Alongside a wintry score by Danny Elfman, Smith contributed several lovely tracks from his\u00a0album\u00a0Either\/Or<\/em>\u00a0and also wrote an original one: \u201cMiss Misery,\u201d a husky, farsighted waltz that casts bittersweet echoes down an empty highway, subtly echoing the film while adding new, universal dimensions of yearning. It almost won an Academy Award, but the prize was irrelevant; in its pristine, snowglobe capturing of a too-sensitive soul begging the world\u2019s pardon, \u201cMiss Misery\u201d was Smith\u2019s own perfect equation. \u2013Stacey Anderson<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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Listen:<\/strong> Elliott Smith, \u201cMiss Misery\u201d<\/p>\n

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\"EMI\"<\/span><\/div>\n
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EMI<\/p>\n

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26.<\/div>\n

A Hard Day\u2019s Night<\/em> (1964)<\/h2>\n

A Hard Day\u2019s Night<\/em>\u00a0is one of the fastest-selling albums of all time and one of the strongest cases for bands to star in their own flicks. Its inclusion on this list is almost unfair; this was a film created solely to house some of the best songs by one of the best bands in the world. Richard Lester\u2019s slapstick comedy never names the quartet by their name, but it does capture the rabid Beatlemania that followed them across continents: After all, in the opening scene\u2014set to the blissful title track\u2014the band is barely able to board their train to London after being bombarded by fans. The Fab Four keep getting into mischief in this classic get-the-band-to-the-gig flick, with wide-ranging gags mimicking silent film and French New Wave, all soundtracked by jangly Lennon and McCartney jams like \u201cI Should Have Known Better\u201d and \u201cAll My Loving.\u201d And then we\u2019re blessed with the promised concert\u2014because why hide the fact that although these boys were charming, it\u2019s really the music that makes this movie. \u2013Kristen Yoonsoo Kim<\/p>\n

Listen:<\/strong>\u00a0The Beatles, \u201cA Hard Day\u2019s Night\u201d<\/p>\n

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\"Atlantic\"<\/span><\/div>\n
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Atlantic<\/p>\n

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25.<\/div>\n

The Crow<\/em> (1994)<\/h2>\n

The only things certain in life are death, taxes, and \u201990s movie soundtracks peppered with brooding cover songs. The Crow<\/em> was a prototype of the latter, filled with exceptional reinterpretations that would become the urtext of anti-authoritarian mall goths: Rollins Band pound out Suicide\u2019s \u201cGhostrider,\u201d Pantera rip up Poison Idea\u2019s \u201cThe Badge,\u201d Rage Against the Machine\u00a0reclaim\u00a0Zack de la Rocha\u2019s former hardcore-punk band Inside Out, and we\u2019re treated to maybe the only good Joy Division cover ever<\/em> in Nine Inch Nails\u2019 heart-racing \u201cDead Souls.\u201d Think of this as the evil cousin of the Singles<\/em> soundtrack, the underbelly of \u201990s music, the sound of electronic-industrial noise-rock. Though\u00a0The Crow<\/em>\u00a0is now\u00a0more of a slice of gothic lore than a memorable movie due to the accidental on-set death of its star, Brandon Lee, its grungy, gloomy cultural relevance owes a great deal to its music. \u2013Jeremy D. Larson<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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Listen:<\/strong> Nine Inch Nails, \u201cDead Souls\u201d<\/p>\n

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\"CBS\"<\/span><\/div>\n
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CBS<\/p>\n

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24.<\/div>\n

McCabe & Mrs. Miller<\/em> (1971)<\/h2>\n

Leonard Cohen is sometimes described as the invisible narrator of McCabe & Mrs. Miller<\/em>, Robert Altman\u2019s radically reinvented Western. But given that his lyrics are even more oblique than the storyline, Cohen doesn\u2019t elucidate the action so much as glaze it with a layer of symbolism and parable, lending a mythic gravity to the travails of these flawed and ornery characters. Only three Cohen songs appear, all\u00a0from the first side of Songs of Leonard Cohen<\/em>, his 1968 debut\u2014a record Altman played so often that he replaced the worn-out vinyl repeatedly. They recur throughout the film, weaving in and out of the action, staining it with rich tones of tenderness, regret, gratitude, and\u00a0separation that cannot be bridged.<\/p>\n

Cohen\u2019s songs also work as aural markers for the main characters. \u201cThe Stranger Song,\u201d first heard over the credits, is McCabe; the restless surge of its tremolo acoustic chords suggests a man doomed to drift, uncertain behind his bravado, his existential foundations shaky. \u201cSisters of Mercy,\u201d despite its title nodding to a Catholic organization of nuns, is about a different kind of succor: It accompanies the arrival of prostitutes, with the psychedelic band Kaleidoscope adding tinkly, turn-of-century textures in its expanded movie version. \u201cWinter Lady\u201d is Mrs. Miller\u2019s theme but also the heartsick voice of McCabe\u2019s thwarted longing for her. Although lines like \u201cI\u2019m just a station on your way\/I know I\u2019m not your lover\u201d speak what the characters cannot articulate, Cohen\u2019s songs work as complementary texture; his music sounds just like the misty-memory look that cinematographer Vilmos Zsigmond achieved by\u00a0\u201cflash\u201d-treating the film negative. Cohen becomes an inseparable element of the film, as unexpected and thrillingly innovative as the rest of Altman\u2019s vision. \u2013Simon Reynolds<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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Listen:<\/strong> Leonard Cohen, \u201cThe Stranger Song\u201d<\/p>\n

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A&M<\/p>\n

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23.<\/div>\n

Pretty in Pink<\/em> (1986)<\/h2>\n

Across John Hughes\u2019 filmography, it\u2019s clear how much he believes music is essential to the teenage experience\u2014and he best captured the angst of those years with his gloriously moody soundtrack to Pretty in Pink<\/em>. Throughout, screenwriter Hughes and director Howard Deutch cleverly chose tracks by British post-punk rockers\u2014including Echo & the Bunnymen, Psychedelic Furs, and Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark\u2014to crib their doom-and-gloom attitudes for his characters; in one scene, Morrissey becomes a stand-in for poor Duckie\u2019s internal monologue, amplifying\u00a0the boy\u2019s unrequited love for his friend Andie as he mopes around to the Smiths\u2019 \u201cPlease, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want.\u201d<\/p>\n

Pretty in Pink<\/em>\u2019s key musical moments don\u2019t\u00a0just arrive with the film\u2019s emotional highs; pop and new wave is also subtly interwoven\u00a0into everyday moments. Suzanne Vega\u2019s \u201cLeft of Center\u201d murmurs from the radio as Andie and Duckie are studying, and INXS buzz through record store speakers as Andie tries to play it cool around her crush. By anthologizing the decade\u2019s coolest alternative tracks, and drawing a clear line from them to the heroic problems of youth, Pretty in Pink<\/em>\u2019s soundtrack has become an \u201980s hipster time capsule, with the ability to spark nostalgia in anyone, no matter when they grew up. \u2013Michelle Kim<\/p>\n

Listen:<\/strong> The Smiths, \u201cPlease, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want\u201d<\/p>\n

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\"Atlantic\"<\/span><\/div>\n
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Atlantic<\/p>\n

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22.<\/div>\n

GoodFellas<\/em> (1990)<\/h2>\n

There are three paths a found-music soundtrack can take. Path one is the Tarantino approach: Dredge up beloved obscurities and use them as seasoning, effectively assigning them your own meaning. Path two is the \u201cStranger Things\u201d option: Take famous songs with pre-existing cultural and emotional weight so heavy, they snap the celluloid and do the hard work for you. And then there\u2019s path three: the Marty Method. Here, you draw from the whole range of rock-era popular music, from Tony Bennett\u2019s olive-oil smooth \u201cRags to Riches\u201d to Sid Vicious\u2019s camp Sinatra cover \u201cMy Way.\u201d You use smash hits burned into every Boomer\u2019s brain, from Bobby Darin\u2019s \u201cBeyond the Sea\u201d to\u00a0goddamn \u201cLayla.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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But, and this is key, you\u2019re Martin Scorsese<\/em>. You have an unrivaled understanding of how sound and vision can be combined in additive fashion while leaving the strength of each component intact. So you use these songs in such unexpected ways (Donovan\u2019s Aquarian anthem \u201cAtlantis\u201d for a vicious beating), or in such unprecedented contexts (the Crystals\u2019 breathless \u201cThen He Kissed Me\u201d as our ticket to the Copacabana, in the most famous tracking shot in film history), that the music shapes the tone of the film without overwhelming it, and vice versa. Thanks to GoodFellas<\/em>, \u201cLayla\u201d is the sound of unrequited love and<\/em> mobster corpses in meat trucks, now and forever. \u2013Sean T. Collins<\/p>\n

Listen:<\/strong> Donovan, \u201cAtlantis\u201d<\/p>\n

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\"Hollywood\"<\/span><\/div>\n
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Hollywood<\/p>\n

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21.<\/div>\n

The Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou<\/em> (2004)<\/h2>\n

Wes Anderson specializes in confection.\u00a0The filmmaker\u2019s worlds are perfectly curated and parallel to our own, where meticulously detailed sets, effects, and wardrobe create deceptively sweet unrealities. His use of music is also pristine: In The Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou<\/em>, Anderson channels the drama of David Bowie to tell the story of a burnt-out marine biologist and the characters who inhabit his ship, the Belafonte.<\/p>\n

The Life Aquatic<\/em>\u2019s soundtrack includes songs by Joan Baez and the Zombies, and a score from DEVO\u2019s Mark Mothersbaugh, but its heart and soul come from Bowie\u2019s songs, as channeled by Brazilian musician Seu Jorge. Jorge, who plays Belafonte crewman Pel\u00e9 dos Santos, acts as a one-man Greek chorus in the film, moving it along with his wistful acoustic guitar and calming baritone. The result is a recontextualization of the late rock genius that is quietly powerful. Jorge\u2019s Portuguese cover of \u201cStarman\u201d is folksy where the song was once melodramatic, while his rendition of \u201cRebel Rebel\u201d adds a shot of cool to the original\u2019s sugary undertones. Similarly, \u201cFive Years,\u201d \u201cRock N\u2019 Roll Suicide,\u201d and \u201cLife On Mars?\u201d maintain their urgency, even as Jorge softens their edges, for an overall effect that feels like the faint shadow of sadness on a bright summer day. Before he died, Bowie himself celebrated Jorge\u2019s covers, saying he\u2019d imbued\u00a0the songs with \u201ca new level of beauty.\u201d The film is lucky to have them. \u2013Timmhotep Aku<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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Listen:<\/strong> Seu Jorge, \u201cRebel Rebel\u201d<\/p>\n

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\"Mercury\"<\/span><\/div>\n
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Mercury<\/p>\n

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20.<\/div>\n

O Brother, Where Art Thou?<\/em> (2000)<\/h2>\n

O Brother, Where Art Thou?<\/em> is a work of subversive American mythology, a hero\u2019s hapless journey through the Depression-era South in search\u00a0of love, companionship, and the promise of meager loot. Based very loosely on The Odyssey<\/em>, the Coen Brothers\u2019 film shapes a saga from national perils (like recalcitrant racism) and promises (like the thrill of still-wild spaces), building a fable from the vaporous allure of the American Dream. The Coens needed the music to match the saga, so they reached back to the rural sounds of the South, black and white, and recaptured this essence with mostly modern voices. T-Bone Burnett outfitted a Nashville studio with antediluvian recording technology, like vintage microphones arranged in specific decades-old patterns, and used it to capture a murderers\u2019 row of bluegrass, blues, and country stars in perfect form\u2014first Emmylou Harris, Gillian Welch, and Alison Krauss lilting through a wicked lullaby, then septuagenarian bluegrass\u00a0legend Ralph Stanley staring down death without blinking.<\/p>\n

A stunning commercial success, the O Brother<\/em> soundtrack launched a new folk renaissance, in part because its deep roots offered a soothing sense of national connection in the dawning era of post-9\/11 anxiety. Like the film, these songs collectively map a land of great trouble and hope, documenting the highs and lows of a very ordinary epic\u2014people of constant sorrow, beset by violent cases of moaning blues and beaten by wicked authority figures, looking for a little pleasure now and the promise of eternity later. \u2013Grayson Haver Currin<\/p>\n

Listen:<\/strong> Alison Krauss, \u201cDown to the River to Pray\u201d<\/p>\n

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\"Polydor\"<\/span><\/div>\n
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Polydor<\/p>\n

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19.<\/div>\n

This Is Spin\u0308al Tap<\/em> (1984)<\/h2>\n

\u201cThe invention of languages is the foundation,\u201d wrote literature professor and Lord of the Rings<\/em> demiurge J.R.R. Tolkien to his publisher in 1955. \u201cThe \u2018stories\u2019 were made rather to provide a world for the languages than the reverse.\u201d Bilbo, Frodo, Gollum, Gandalf, the Ring: They all exist so the good professor would have people to speak with in Elvish.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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Given their blacklight-poster pretentiousness, David St. Hubbins, Nigel Tufnel, and Derek Smalls\u2014the members of the imaginary, past-their-prime English heavy-metal band Spin\u0308al Tap\u2014are no doubt Lord of the Rings<\/em> devotees. But the real-life actor-musicians Michael McKean, Christopher Guest, and Harry Shearer, plus their co-writer and director Rob Reiner, are more in tune with Tolkien\u2019s chicken-and-egg sensibility than their rock \u2018n\u2019 roll creations ever could be. In tracks like the dunderheaded epic \u201cStonehenge,\u201d the redudantly-titled groupie paean \u201cTonight I\u2019m Gonna Rock You Tonight,\u201d and the low-end-driven (in every sense) ass anthem \u201cBig Bottom,\u201d they created mockumentary pastiches of arena metal so fully formed, they feel able to support an entire world on their spandex-clad shoulders. From Middle-earth to \u201cHello, Cleveland,\u201d the song remains the same. \u2013Sean T. Collins<\/p>\n

Listen:<\/strong> Spin\u0308al Tap, \u201cTonight I\u2019m Gonna Rock You Tonight\u201d<\/p>\n

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\"Columbia\"<\/span><\/div>\n
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Columbia<\/p>\n

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18.<\/div>\n

Love Jones<\/em> (1997)<\/h2>\n

Love Jones<\/em>\u00a0remains Theodore Witcher\u2019s sole directing\u00a0credit, despite being a high point of late-\u201990s African-American cinema (and remaining in heavy rotation on BET come Valentine\u2019s Day). Its silken, seductive soundtrack also has its own firm place in the pantheon: A deft blend of lovers\u2019 hip-hop, honeyed R&B, and smoldering jazz, it effortlessly segues from Minnie Riperton and Wyclef Jean to John Coltrane and Duke Ellington. At a time when most movie soundtracks paired two new songs with a heap of filler, every selection here adds to the consummate whole, from the unquenchable desire of Groove Theory\u2019s \u201cNever Enough\u201d to the spare caresses of Cassandra Wilson\u2019s \u201cYou Move Me.\u201d Unhurried yet assured, each musical moment from Love Jones<\/em> feels\u2014as Lauryn Hill purrs at one point\u2014like \u201cfingertips on the small of my back.\u201d \u2013Andy Beta<\/p>\n

Listen:<\/strong> Groove Theory, \u201cNever Enough\u201d<\/p>\n

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\"Virgin\"<\/span><\/div>\n
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Virgin<\/p>\n

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17.<\/div>\n

The Sheltering Sky<\/em> (1990)<\/h2>\n

The Sheltering Sky<\/em>, Paul Bowles\u2019 1949 novel, offers a sweeping metaphor for the human condition, pinning its protagonists against the vastness of the Sahara Desert and beneath the unforgiving, all-seeing heavens: together yet hopelessly alone, unreachable by others and unknowable even to themselves. Whatever the failures in Bernardo Bertolucci\u2019s accompanying film\u2014its exoticism, its melodrama\u2014it\u2019s beautiful to look at, and Ryuichi Sakamoto\u2019s score fits it perfectly. The wistful main theme, perpetually twisting and rising like a dust devil, is appropriately tragic, even a little indulgent, though other passages can be atonal, jarring, and as prickly as its characters (especially John Malkovich\u2019s Port). The rest of the soundtrack rounds out the film\u2019s world with songs from the Algerian ra\u00ef singer Chaba Zahouania, traditional music from Tunisia and Burundi, and\u00a0jazz period pieces from American vibraphonist Lionel Hampton and French\u00a0singer Charles Trenet. The latter\u2019s contribution, \u201cJe Chante,\u201d is a jaunty 1955 romp with a perennial cheer that stands starkly at odds with the bleakness of the film, and it\u2019s precisely that incongruity that makes the soundtrack so engaging. \u2013Philip Sherburne<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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Listen:<\/strong> Charles Trenet, \u201cJe Chante\u201d<\/p>\n

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\"Capitol\"<\/span><\/div>\n
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Capitol<\/p>\n

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16.<\/div>\n

Boogie Nights<\/em> (1997)<\/h2>\n

Despite its shag carpets, disco-dancing montages, and abundance of gold chains on chest hair, there\u2019s nothing kitschy about\u00a0Boogie Nights<\/em>. Director Paul Thomas Anderson is thoroughly empathetic in his treatment of the film\u2019s striving, struggling San Fernando Valley misfits as they navigate the turbulent adult film industry of the late-\u201970s and \u201980s. The film\u2019s despair is pure and uncut, and\u00a0its\u00a0soundtrack is just as fantastically on-the-nose. Eric Burdon and War\u2019s tiki-bar-tastic \u201cSpill the Wine\u201d pairs perfectly with a pool party, and the vocal eruptions that dot the Chakachas\u2019 \u201cJungle Fever\u201d\u2014a song so erotically tinged that the BBC once banned it\u2014are apropos in a film in which the characters\u2019 livelihoods are dedicated to the art of the climax. The biggest curveball arrives in the form of Night Ranger\u2019s \u201cSister Christian,\u201d a coming-of-age hair-rock anthem recast to add tension to a drug deal gone terribly, explosively wrong. Like the rest of\u00a0Boogie Nights<\/em>\u2019 groovy, neon-lit soundtrack, it\u2019s not ironic in the slightest, instead fitting with the ease and comfort of a pair of exquisitely tailored bell-bottoms. \u2013Larry Fitzmaurice<\/p>\n

Listen:<\/strong>\u00a0Night Ranger, \u201cSister Christian\u201d<\/p>\n

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\"Rhino\"<\/span><\/div>\n
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Rhino<\/p>\n

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15.<\/div>\n

20th Century Women<\/em> (2016)<\/h2>\n

Mike Mills\u2019 20th Century Women<\/em> follows single mother Dorothea, her teenage son Jamie, and their makeshift family as they struggle to find their place in a rapidly changing world. Set in Santa Barbara in 1979, amid the booming West Coast punk scene, music is the medium\u00a0through which these characters find connection and meaning. A needle drop on the Raincoats\u2019 debut single, \u201cFairytale in the Supermarket,\u201d leads to a discussion on what happens when one\u2019s passions are greater than their ability; the band\u2019s raw musical freedom also spurs Dorothea to consider her own insecurities. Abbie, an artsy young boarder, tries to impart wisdom on Jamie, bringing him to clubs and making him mixtapes of feminist punk and glam rock. Dorothea, whose preferred oldies like Louis Armstrong and Benny Goodman also sprinkle the soundtrack, attempts to understand her son by listening to Black Flag and Talking Heads: \u201cWhat is he saying<\/em>?\u201d she asks of the former before genuinely enjoying the latter. As 20th Century Women<\/em> proves, a soundtrack can be as crucial as dialogue in creating a movie\u2019s core relationships. \u2013Quinn Moreland<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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Listen:<\/strong> The Raincoats, \u201cFairytale in the Supermarket\u201d<\/p>\n

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\"Elektra\"<\/span><\/div>\n
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Elektra<\/p>\n

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14.<\/div>\n

Apocalypse Now<\/em> (1979)<\/h2>\n

Gatefold sleeves, according to earlier generations\u2019 wisdom, were perfect for rolling joints on. All but the most stalwart stoners might have thought twice, though, before skinning up to the double-LP soundtrack to Francis Ford Coppola\u2019s\u00a0Apocalypse Now<\/em>. From the very start\u2014which is, ironically, the Doors\u2019 \u201cThe End,\u201d overlaid with the ominous throb of helicopter rotors\u2014the 96-minute album takes a journey as dark as that of Martin Sheen\u2019s Captain Benjamin L. Willard, who ventures deep into the Vietnamese jungle for an ill-fated showdown with Marlon Brando\u2019s Colonel Kurtz. Unlike conventional soundtrack albums, this one mostly foregoes actual musical selections, save a few exceptions (the Doors, Wagner\u2019s fittingly apocalyptic \u201cThe Ride of the Valkyries\u201d). Instead, it follows the film\u2019s narrative with a meandering mix of dialogue scraps, jungle noises, and firefights. The results are a bleakly hallucinogenic document of the \u201970s. \u2013Philip Sherburne<\/p>\n

Listen:<\/strong>\u00a0The Doors, \u201cThe End\u201d<\/p>\n

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\"Priority\"<\/span><\/div>\n
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Priority<\/p>\n

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13.<\/div>\n

Friday<\/em> (1995)<\/h2>\n

In the \u201990s, South Central Los Angeles was a cultural hotbed, setting trends in both fashion and music. With their script for Friday<\/em>, Ice Cube and DJ Pooh made an adventure out of a mundane day in the neighborhood, bringing their community\u2019s style and attitude to the big screen.\u00a0Fittingly, the film\u2019s soundtrack is a time capsule of essential gangsta rap, G-funk, and soul. Dr. Dre\u2019s \u201cKeep Their Heads Ringin\u2019\u201d incorporates the signature synths and speaker-rattling drum kicks crucial to the city\u2019s music. Ice Cube\u2019s own \u201cFriday\u201d stands in as the tough-talking credo of his characters, Craig and Smokey, as they try only to survive. The soundtrack doesn\u2019t limit itself to L.A., though, grabbing Houston\u2019s Scarface for \u201cFriday Night,\u201d an outsider\u2019s perspective about the overwhelming amount of women he encounters in the L.A. streets. The final touch is wrangling an original cut from the Isley Brothers, \u201cTryin\u2019 to See Another Day,\u201d about just living another 24 hours\u2014or, even better, to the \u201cdaaaaamn\u201d weekend. \u2013Alphonse Pierre<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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Listen:<\/strong> Ice Cube, \u201cFriday\u201d<\/p>\n

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\"London\"<\/span><\/div>\n
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London<\/p>\n

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12.<\/div>\n

Velvet Goldmine<\/em> (1998)<\/h2>\n

Velvet Goldmine<\/em> helped itself to such generous\u00a0plates of David Bowie\u2019s life story, it\u2019s surprising director Todd Haynes didn\u2019t name his hero\u2019s band the Scorpions From Jupiter. Goldmine<\/em>\u2019s glam-rock preener Brian Slade\u2014a volatile, god-mode hedonist played by Jonathan Rhys-Meyers\u2014has a hell of a time in late-\u201970s Britain, scandalizing its press and delighting its teens with his bisexual bed-hopping, superheroic drug consumption, and glittery stage spectacles. Slade\u2019s trysts with the Iggy Pop avatar Curt Wild, played by Ewan McGregor, are the film\u2019s highlights\u2014not least because, two years after Trainspotting<\/em>, McGregor still had yet to embrace the concept of pants.<\/p>\n

Bowie was no fan of this celluloid fan-fic\u2014he barred his songs from appearing in the film\u2014but Velvet Goldmine<\/em> fared just fine with a squad of his friends and admirers. Shiny original dance tracks from Pulp and Shudder to Think crib the Major Tom era, with familiar Brian Eno and Lou Reed cuts lending deeper pathos. Perhaps not surprisingly for a film of such naked adoration, the soundtrack shines brightest in its covers: Placebo take a mighty, sneering spin through T-Rex\u2019s \u201c20th Century Boy,\u201d and a mysterious, formidable glam outfit called Venus in Furs cover Roxy Music\u2019s \u201c2HB,\u201d \u201cLadytron,\u201d and \u201cBitter-sweet.\u201d Who were these guys? Just Suede\u2019s Bernard Butler and Radiohead\u2019s Jonny Greenwood on guitar\u2014plus one Thom Yorke, doing the best Bryan Ferry imitation in the universe. \u2013Stacey Anderson<\/p>\n

Listen:<\/strong> Venus in Furs, \u201c2HB”<\/p>\n

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San Andreas \/ MCA<\/p>\n

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11.<\/div>\n

Repo Man<\/em> (1984)<\/h2>\n

Absolutely nothing about Repo Man<\/em> makes sense\u2014not its magnificently strange, sci-fi, absurdist plot, which blends aliens with punk rock, televangelists with UFO scientists, one-off gags with dry political commentary. And certainly not its unusual journey from utter failure (it was pulled from theaters just a week after its release) to word-of-mouth cult classic. The vehicle of its rescue? A punk soundtrack, one that captured the explosive West Coast hardcore scene at its peak. A movie\u00a0saved from commercial oblivion by Black Flag and Fear: That was a new one.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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And then, as the album sales pushed past 50,000, Universal reassessed its peculiar little property and re-released the film in theaters. Now Repo Man<\/em> lives on in the loving mouths of those who quote it endlessly (\u201cI blame society\u201d; \u201cIt happens sometimes. People just explode. Natural causes\u201d) and also in its soundtrack\u2019s smart-dumb slam-dancing classics\u2014Suicidal Tendencies\u2019 \u201cInstitutionalized\u201d; Black Flag\u2019s \u201cTV Party\u201d; Fear\u2019s \u201cLet\u2019s Have a War\u201d\u2014that saved it from the brink. \u2013Jayson Greene<\/p>\n

Listen:<\/strong> Suicidal Tendencies, \u201cInstitutionalized\u201d<\/p>\n

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\"MCA\"<\/span><\/div>\n
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MCA<\/p>\n

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10.<\/div>\n

Pulp Fiction<\/em> (1994)<\/h2>\n

The musical universe of\u00a0Pulp Fiction<\/em>\u00a0is as freewheeling and culturally omnivorous as its screenplay: Here is a quintessential \u201990s film in which a \u201970s disco icon dances the twist in a \u201950s-themed burger joint. Quentin Tarantino approached the score of his film the way skillful rap producers approach sampling, digging up and recontextualizing lost gems from the vinyl era, finding a certain crazed intensity in \u201960s surf-rock tunes. (In fact, the soundtrack\u2019s commercial success briefly reinvigorated surf music\u2019s prominence in America.)<\/p>\n

Pulp Fiction<\/em>\u2019s iconic music cues include Urge Overkill\u2019s cover of \u201cGirl, You\u2019ll Be a Woman Soon\u201d during Mia\u2019s heroin overdose and the Revels\u2019 \u201cComanche,\u201d\u00a0with\u00a0the dash of comic energy it brings to the sadistic pawnshop sequence. Where a lesser filmmaker might have chosen more obvious accompaniment to the Jack Rabbit Slim\u2019s dance-off, Tarantino plays it understated and surreal with Chuck Berry\u2019s 1964 hit \u201cYou Never Can Tell.\u201d Like the best compilation soundtracks,\u00a0Pulp Fiction<\/em>\u00a0introduced contemporary audiences to musical gems from the past; before file-sharing and streaming collapsed such barriers, this soundtrack got Gen-X teenagers listening to Dusty Springfield and Ricky Nelson. \u2013Zach Schonfeld<\/p>\n

Listen:<\/strong>\u00a0Chuck Berry, \u201cYou Can Never Tell\u201d<\/p>\n

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\"EMI\"<\/span><\/div>\n
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EMI<\/p>\n

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9.<\/div>\n

Help!<\/em> (1965)<\/h2>\n

After the effortless naturalism of\u00a0A Hard Day\u2019s Night<\/em>, which mined the Beatles\u2019 charm for low-key yuks and translated the energy of Beatlemania into an extended series of chase scenes, the following year\u2019s high-budget\u00a0Help!<\/em>\u00a0swung in the opposite direction: farcical, forced, and at times offensive in its treatment of an Eastern cult. But the music was another matter. The songs on\u00a0Help!<\/em>\u00a0made subtle but important steps past 1964\u2019s\u00a0Beatles for Sale<\/em>\u00a0and\u00a0A Hard Day\u2019s Night<\/em>: tugging at the dimensions of their sound; playing with echo, overdubbing, and stereo separation; and infusing everything with a faint but distinctly modern psychedelic sheen. (Perhaps it\u2019s no surprise that the band spent the entire film shoot in a permanent pot haze.) The American release of the album swapped out the UK version\u2019s seven non-soundtrack songs for instrumentals featured in the film, but it\u2019s the UK release that has become the canonical one, anchored by \u201cYesterday,\u201d one of the quartet\u2019s most enduring singles. For all intents and purposes,\u00a0Help!<\/em>\u00a0is a soundtrack in name only, but it\u2019s still a fascinating snapshot of the Beatles at a crucial moment in their evolution. \u2013Philip Sherburne<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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Listen:<\/strong>\u00a0The Beatles, \u201cYesterday\u201d<\/p>\n

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\"London<\/span><\/div>\n
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London \/ Inner-State<\/p>\n

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8.<\/div>\n

Rushmore<\/em> (1998)<\/h2>\n

For Wes Anderson, whose formative teenage years coincided with the dawn of MTV, sound and vision are inextricably linked. The writer-director has often employed a music-first approach to filmmaking\u2014finding a song that sets off his synapses and then imagining\u00a0a scene to it. But he\u2019s not simply typing away to Top 40 hits. Working with his longtime music supervisor Randall Poster, Anderson peppers his offbeat movies with whimsical deep cuts and personal favorites that warm up his deadpan characters. It\u2019s a strategy that has helped him become one of the defining auteurs of his generation, and it never worked better than on his 1998 breakthrough, Rushmore<\/em>.<\/p>\n

On the surface, Rushmore<\/em> is a coming-of-age story filled with nerds, bullies, crushes, and handjob jokes. What separates it from movies like American Pie<\/em>, which came out the following year, is its straight-faced affect, subtle longing, and acute attention to detail: Yes, Rushmore<\/em>\u2019s main love story involves a 15-year-old shamelessly pining for a schoolteacher, but the boy is haunted by his mother\u2019s passing, and the older woman is still grieving for her dead husband. Similarly, at a glance, the soundtrack seems commonplace, with tracks by classic rock heavies John Lennon and the Kinks, but the song selections are unexpected and deeply felt. Instead of just carpet-bombing a rebellious scene with \u201cMy Generation,\u201d Anderson syncs one of the film\u2019s several memorable montages with a portion of the Who\u2019s proggy, multipart epic \u201cA Quick One, While He\u2019s Away.\u201d The addition of obscure British Invasion groups like the Creation and Unit 4 + 2 make his exactitude that much more apparent. Rushmore<\/em> is a love letter to lost youth, and its soundtrack plays like a well-worn mixtape from a discerning childhood friend. \u2013Ryan Dombal<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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Listen:<\/strong> The Who, \u201cA Quick One, While He\u2019s Away\u201d<\/p>\n

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\"Emperor<\/span><\/div>\n
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Emperor Norton<\/p>\n

<\/span><\/div>\n<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n

7.<\/div>\n

Lost in Translation<\/em> (2003)<\/h2>\n

When Bill Murray sings a terribly off-key, blundering rendition of Roxy Music\u2019s \u201cMore Than This\u201d at karaoke, it is enough to move the listener to tears\u2014and not just because Bryan Ferry\u2019s sweet melody is incorruptible. It\u2019s also due to the auteurist ear Sofia Coppola brings to\u00a0Lost in Translation<\/em>, her ability to capture the story\u2019s aching undertones through music. If what\u2019s on the page is Murray drunkenly\u00a0warbling a glam-rock ballad, the subtext is in the bittersweet song itself, and Scarlett Johansson\u2019s desiring gaze upon him, so penetrating that you can feel it even when she\u2019s out of focus.<\/p>\n

While\u00a0Lost in Translation<\/em>\u00a0features upbeat, debaucherous moments like Peaches\u2019 \u201cFuck the Pain Away\u201d and Phoenix\u2019s \u201cToo Young,\u201d the film is remembered for the swirling shoegaze sounds of My Bloody Valentine and Air, accompaniments that turn Tokyo\u2019s glaring neon surroundings into hazy, soft memories, even in the present. Since her 1999 debut,\u00a0The Virgin Suicides<\/em>, Coppola has used needle drops to express certain feelings that cannot be articulated, and here, the Jesus and Mary Chain\u2019s reverb-cloaked \u201cJust Like Honey\u201d acts as the\u00a0ideal romantic declaration in that famously indecipherable final scene. Coppola understands, and cosigns, something powerful in this moment: Sometimes, nothing we can say lives up to the perfect song. \u2013Kristen Yoonsoo Kim<\/p>\n

Listen:<\/strong>\u00a0The Jesus and Mary Chain, \u201cJust Like Honey\u201d<\/p>\n

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\"Motown\"<\/span><\/div>\n
<\/p>\n

Motown<\/p>\n

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6.<\/div>\n

Do the Right Thing<\/em> (1989)<\/h2>\n

Public Enemy\u2019s \u201cFight the Power\u201d blasts from Radio Raheem\u2019s boombox a whopping 15 times throughout\u00a0Do the Right Thing<\/em>. Written for the film, the song is so thoroughly enmeshed in its sweat-drenched fabric that Motown Records could\u2019ve gotten away with looping it for 80 minutes on the soundtrack. But sweltering Brooklyn summers contain multitudes, and\u00a0Do the Right Thing<\/em>\u2019s album mirrors the agony and ecstasy streaked across Spike Lee\u2019s masterpiece. Accompanying a montage of Bed-Stuy locals attempting to beat the heatwave that hovers hazily around them, the British reggae group Steel Pulse\u2019s languid \u201cCan\u2019t Stand It\u201d mirrors the humidity; the elastic strains of new jack swing pioneers Teddy Riley and Guy\u2019s \u201cMy Fantasy\u201d snap faintly as\u00a0Do the Right Thing<\/em>\u2019s aspiring community organizer, Buggin\u2019 Out, schemes to boycott Sal\u2019s Pizzeria. Alongside a gorgeous jazz score conducted and composed by Bill Lee, Spike\u2019s father, the radiant ballads and punchy summer jams on\u00a0Do the Right Thing<\/em>\u2019s soundtrack are perfect evocations of city life in the summertime. \u2013Larry Fitzmaurice<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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Listen:<\/strong>\u00a0Steel Pulse, \u201cCan\u2019t Stand It\u201d<\/p>\n

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\"MGM\"<\/span><\/div>\n
<\/p>\n

MGM<\/p>\n

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5.<\/div>\n

2001: A Space Odyssey<\/em> (1968)<\/h2>\n

By the mid-\u201960s, Stanley Kubrick had risen into the upper echelon of filmmakers, thanks to the provocations of that decade\u2019s\u00a0Spartacus<\/em>,\u00a0Dr. Strangelove<\/em>, and\u00a0Lolita<\/em>. For\u00a02001: A Space Odyssey<\/em>, he parlayed that cachet into a technologically audacious epic that required construction of an artificial gravity chamber and two years\u2019 toiling over special effects. Still, MGM initially balked at one demand: a soundtrack cobbled together from the classical canon, rather than an original score that would boost marketing efforts and the bottom line.<\/p>\n

At first, Kubrick conceded. But then, after watching early footage of his film while blaring the likes of Mahler, he scrapped Alex North\u2019s recorded score at the eleventh hour for the music he\u2019d heard in his head. From the early, thundering repetition of Richard Strauss\u2019 \u201cAlso Sprach Zarathustra\u201d and the outer-space waltz of Johann Strauss\u2019 \u201cThe Blue Danube\u201d to the\u00a0existential choral nightmare\u00a0that is Gy\u00f6rgy Ligeti\u2019s \u201cLux Aeterna,\u201d these songs are now indelibly bound to Kubrick\u2019s scenes of creation and destruction, god and hell, violence and love, as if they were written for the film. The soundtrack is a monument to the importance of artistic vision over executive expectation, a monolith to insisting on an idea when you know it\u2019s right. \u2013Grayson Haver Currin<\/p>\n

Listen:<\/strong>\u00a0Gy\u00f6rgy Ligeti, \u201cLux Aeterna\u201d<\/p>\n

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\"Island\"<\/span><\/div>\n
<\/p>\n

Island<\/p>\n

<\/span><\/div>\n<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n

4.<\/div>\n

The Harder They Come<\/em> (1972)<\/h2>\n

Director Perry Henzell\u2019s cult classic The Harder They Come<\/em> isn\u2019t necessarily a tour de force of storytelling or acting, but it will forever be an important film for what it did for Jamaica and the country\u2019s greatest cultural export: reggae. Starring Jamaican music legend Jimmy Cliff, the film introduced international audiences to the lives and music of the people of the island nation. Its title song, recorded by Cliff for the film, encapsulates the beauty, struggle, and defiance of his character, Ivanhoe \u201cIvan\u201d Martin, a poor country boy with dreams of stardom. Almost as soon as his dream is realized, it becomes a nightmare, as Ivan goes from a celebrity to an outlaw and, finally, a folk hero. The soundtrack features songs from some of reggae\u2019s premier artists of the time, including Desmond Dekker, the Melodians, and Toots & the Maytals (whose \u201cDo the Reggay\u201d helped coin the genre\u2019s name). Still, Cliff remains the anchor of the album: While songs like Dekker\u2019s \u201cShanty Town\u201d capture the hardships of Jamaica\u2019s poor, Cliff\u2019s \u201cYou Can Get It If You Really Want\u201d adds a glimmer of hope and motivation. Immediately, the world fell under reggae\u2019s spell. \u2013Timmhotep Aku<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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Listen:<\/strong> Jimmy Cliff, \u201cYou Can Get It If You Really Want\u201d<\/p>\n

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\"Capitol\"<\/span><\/div>\n
<\/p>\n

Capitol<\/p>\n

<\/span><\/div>\n<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n

3.<\/div>\n

Trainspotting<\/em> (1996)<\/h2>\n

Trainspotting<\/em>\u00a0and its soundtrack mirrored the effects of its narcotic subject matter: a brief high followed by self-annihilating consequences. Danny Boyle\u2019s cheeky addicts inspired an appalling wave of Britflicks peopled by the likes of Guy Ritchie and Vinnie Jones, and the\u00a0soundtrack\u2019s then-inspired clash of indie and club tracks curdled into an ensuing wave of beery laddiness that still rules certain parts of British culture.\u00a0And yet this long shadow can\u2019t dim the adrenaline of watching Boyle\u2019s depiction of heroin addiction meet soundtrack compiler\u00a0Tristram Penna\u2019s song selections: Renton\u2019s sprinting feet pummeling life back into Iggy Pop\u2019s 19-year-old \u201cLust for Life\u201d; Brian Eno\u2019s \u201cDeep Blue Day\u201d transforming a dive down the worst toilet in the world into a transcendental reverie. David Bowie declined to lend his music\u2014as did Oasis, who, wonderfully, thought the film was literally about train enthusiasts\u2014but Trainspotting<\/em> benefitted from being turned down by major stars. For Brits, Penna\u2019s resourceful delve beyond the A-list mythologized an era approaching imminent decline, and overseas listeners got a crash course in Anglophile cool. Despite its cultural baggage, the Trainspotting<\/em> soundtrack endures because\u2014unlike others of the era\u2014it\u2019s ecstatic, not angsty, and captures a generation\u2019s brief flash of blind optimism despite all evidence to the contrary. \u2013Laura Snapes<\/p>\n

Listen:<\/strong> Brian Eno, \u201cDeep Blue Day\u201d<\/p>\n

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\"Warner<\/span><\/div>\n
<\/p>\n

Warner Bros.<\/p>\n

<\/span><\/div>\n<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n

2.<\/div>\n

Purple Rain<\/em> (1984)<\/h2>\n

In 1983, with two big pop hits to his name\u2014\u201c1999\u201d and \u201cLittle Red Corvette\u201d\u2014Prince decided he had to star in a movie from a major studio, with his name above the title. This, he declared, was the only possible way forward. The mere mortals in his orbit, including his manager Bob Cavallo, shrugged and attempted to do his bidding. The result was one of the 10 highest-grossing films of 1984, and watching it still feels like stumbling into Prince\u2019s weird dream as it unfolds. It is, in many ways, a cruel and trashy movie, full of stiff acting and rank misogyny: Women are literally tossed in dumpsters for one-off gags, and even as our sensitive, vulnerable, too-good-for-this world hero, Prince still slaps his girlfriend. He has a profoundly Other presence throughout the film; he wanders through scenes like a genie half-bemused at his own powers. I conjured all of these\u00a0humans into existence<\/em>, he seems to be thinking. Now let\u2019s see what I can make them do<\/em>.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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What really can be said about a film with \u201cThe Beautiful Ones,\u201d \u201cWhen Doves Cry,\u201d and<\/em> \u201cPurple Rain\u201d in it? If the surrounding 90 minutes had just been Prince dry-cleaning his scarves, the film would still be a masterpiece by default. Purple Rain<\/em> is Prince in his prime, at his peak, at his most audacious. It is Prince at his most sensual, his most open and pleading. It is, then, by logical extension, some of the most powerful popular music of the last century, and some of the best we will ever get. That it came alongside a silly, campy picture to enjoy is just a bonus. \u2013Jayson Greene<\/p>\n

Listen:<\/strong> Prince and the Revolution, \u201cWhen Doves Cry\u201d<\/p>\n

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\"Curtom\"<\/span><\/div>\n
<\/p>\n

Curtom<\/p>\n

<\/span><\/div>\n<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n

1.<\/div>\n

Super Fly<\/em> (1972)<\/h2>\n

When small-time drug dealer Fat Freddie dies in\u00a0Super Fly<\/em>, the plot, like the car that strikes him, keeps moving. No one mourns him or inquires about his absence, and his wife, whom he loves dearly, never shows up again. The generous view is that the budget was low and all death is a senseless tragedy; a more realistic outlook is that the\u00a0Super Fly<\/em>\u00a0screenplay is a silly mess. Luckily, in \u201cFreddie\u2019s Dead,\u201d Curtis Mayfield gives Freddie the send-off he deserves. In Mayfield\u2019s hands, Freddie\u2019s death becomes a soulful rumination on the misery that drives the drug trade: the exploitation, the loss, the pain. \u201cEverybody\u2019s used him\/Ripped him off and abused him,\u201d Mayfield pleads. These kinds of insights don\u2019t make it into the script, but the soundtrack overflows with them.<\/p>\n

Mayfield wrote and recorded the\u00a0Super Fly<\/em>\u00a0soundtrack working from the screenplay and dailies from the film set, and his music is not just a companion; it\u2019s composition as world-building. From the narrow life of Youngblood Priest, a jaded cocaine dealer seeking to exit the game after one last score, Mayfield unfolds multitudes. A few years into his solo career, he was shifting from high-minded soul into rooted funk, and\u00a0Super Fly<\/em>\u00a0catches him in this farsighted nexus; here, he widens the film\u2019s story into a vista of broken relationships, with a portrait of Priest that is as dignified as it is dangerous. On \u201cPusherman,\u201d wah-wah licks and a bright bassline keep the tone buoyant, as Mayfield catalogs the many voids drugs can fill. \u201cI\u2019m your mama\/I\u2019m your daddy\/I\u2019m that nigga in the alley,\u201d Mayfield boasts. There\u2019s a deep pride in the smoothness of the pusher\u2019s sell, and Mayfield doesn\u2019t downplay it: \u201cPusherman\u201d drifts from his lips like smoke on a movie screen, sexy and glamorous.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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With\u00a0Super Fly<\/em>, Mayfield sought to challenge the script without undermining it, and that tension colors the entire soundtrack. \u201cFreddie\u2019s Dead\u201d is funky and haunting even as it scolds the world that killed Freddie. With gusts of brass, the title track celebrates Priest while also condemning him, seeing the struggle within his hustle\u2014how he is \u201ctryin\u2019 to get over,\u201d as Mayfield coos. Mayfield was both a moralist and an empath; channeling his own experience with drug use, he captures the sweet and the bitter. As he lauds sobriety over the pillowy brass and strings of \u201cNo Thing on Me (Cocaine Song),\u201d regret seeps through his bliss. \u201cIt\u2019s a terrible thing inside\/When your natural high has died,\u201d he sings knowingly.<\/p>\n

Priest doesn\u2019t at all embody Mayfield\u2019s perfect melding of style with substance\u2014and neither did Fat Freddie, for that matter\u2014but this striking disconnect is largely what makes the\u00a0Super Fly<\/em>\u00a0soundtrack so enduring. In its richness and gravitas and groove, the record imparts what the movie can only sketch. Through Mayfield\u2019s brimming imagination, one-dimensional pulp roles became vessels of guile and verve. It\u2019s an essential listen, and also an act of quiet subversion: a public screening of the unrealized film Mayfield saw in his head. \u2013Stephen Kearse<\/p>\n

Listen:<\/strong>\u00a0Curtis Mayfield, \u201cFreddie\u2019s Dead\u201d<\/p>\n

\n

Contributors:<\/strong> Timmhotep Aku, Stacey Anderson, Andy Beta, Sean T. Collins, Grayson Haver Currin, Ryan Dombal, Larry Fitzmaurice, Jayson Greene, Stephen Kearse, Kristen Yoonsoo Kim, Michelle Hyun Kim, Jeremy D. Larson, Quinn Moreland, Amy Phillips, Alphonse Pierre, Simon Reynolds, Mark Richardson, Matthew Schnipper, Zach Schonfeld, Philip Sherburne, Laura Snapes, Sam Sodomsky, Tyler Wilcox, Daniel Dylan Wray<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n

Source URL: https:\/\/pitchfork.com\/features\/lists-and-guides\/the-50-best-movie-soundtracks-of-all-time\/<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Lists & Guides The 50 Best Movie Soundtracks of All Time From Black Panther to Clueless, Dazed and Confused to Purple Rain, the music that has defined modern filmmaking By Pitchfork February 19, 2019 From left to right: Purple Rain photo copyright Warner Bros., Marie Antoinette photo copyright Columbia Pictures, Do the Right Thing photo […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[2],"tags":[54],"class_list":["post-1254153","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-politics","tag-pitchfork-com"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/analyse.optim.biz\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1254153","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/analyse.optim.biz\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/analyse.optim.biz\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/analyse.optim.biz\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/analyse.optim.biz\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1254153"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/analyse.optim.biz\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1254153\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/analyse.optim.biz\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1254153"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/analyse.optim.biz\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1254153"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/analyse.optim.biz\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1254153"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}