Television show theme songs come in a colorful spectrum of styles, from forgettable to downright works of art. But they all have one thing in common: they’re short. At least when they play during the opening credits of the show.
But what you hear in that minute or so while you go grab some chips and dip from the kitchen isn’t always the whole story. Lurking behind many of the songs introducing the show and its actors is a more developed piece of music that you rarely or never get to hear.
Sometimes the theme song is borrowed from an existing musical work composed with no idea it would one day become a TV show theme song. Sometimes it’s a full song composed for the show, but you only hear a snippet of it on television. Sometimes it’s developed after the fact because somebody loves it and just wants more of it.
This phenomenon can reach back many decades. We can go back to before I was born (a long time ago in a city far, far away), as this first example illustrates. This was composed for piano by Charles Gounod in 1872 and orchestrated seven years later. He composed it as a satirical parody of the personality of a music critic and intended to publish it dedicated to that critic, but the critic died before he could.
So instead he published it under the title, “Funeral March of a Marionette.” Three-fourths of a century later it became one of the most well-known and iconic theme songs for a television show and its famous host.
The great director Alfred Hitchcock will forever be remembered with his silhouette walking into a line drawing of his profile as this music plays.
The next example is almost as old, written in 1893 by the great march composer John Philip Sousa. He intended it as the overture to an operetta he never finished because financing fell through. While watching a spectacle called “America” with his band manager at the Columbian Exposition in Chicago which had the Liberty Bell as a backdrop, his manager suggested he name the march after the bell.
Around that same time, Sousa received a letter from his wife saying their son had marched in a parade celebrating the Liberty Bell. That clinched it. He named his composition “The Liberty Bell March.”
Decades after Sousa composed it, it was also played across the pond as the theme song to an upstart low-budget television production that would end up rocking the world. A primary reason for selecting that song was the budget: it was in the public domain and cost nothing to use.
You might think associating this song with this television show would kill the march as a serious work of music. But it’s still played in an exhibit at the Liberty Bell Center to this day. It’s as if you could hear it say, “I’m not dead yet.”
For ten years with its first run episodes, and virtually every day anywhere in the world in syndication ever since, this next iconic theme song introduces straight out of the commercial break one of the most groundbreaking programs in television history. But on TV it’s only an instrumental rendering. You have to go to the opening credits of the movie it was based on to find the full song, complete with lyrics.
And surprising lyrics they are. If the movie came out today, the song would probably be denounced as a trigger for disturbed people.
But the theme of the movie’s story, and by extension the show’s episodes, matched the edginess of the lyrics. In fact, the song is repeated in a scene in the movie where one of the soldiers sings another one to death as he tries to commit suicide. The lyrics were written by director Robert Altman’s 14-year-old son, who ended up earning over $1 million in royalties from them.
Matching the irreverance of the doctors in the television version of the Korean War were characters in another television show set in the opposite direction: far into the future. It’s a show with a fiercely loyal fan base comparable to what Star Trek or Star Wars can muster.
At first listen, the gritty bluegrass sound of the theme song seems totally at odds with its science fiction genre. Yet one only has to watch the show to understand how the musical style fits perfectly with the stories and characters.
The song is haunting, but too short. So here’s a mix that draws it out so one can enjoy the mood it creates for a more satisfying length of time.
Already we’ve gone from a master director of horror in film who told ironic and twisted stories on the small screen to an absurd satirical comedy from England that’s had an astronomical impact on world culture to a war comedy that didn’t shrink from telling heartrending stories with serious social commentary to wild west science fiction tales of the future. An impressive eclectic collection of themes with an equally eclectic mix of theme songs to go with them.
Our next example veers into yet another eclectic direction telling the farcical stories of a family only marginally less dysfunctional than Homer Simpson’s or Al Bundy’s. Its theme song is short, but it’s just a snippet of the full song that was composed. Its mood reflects the dysfunctionality of the family.
In my opinion, there hasn’t been a comedy show on television as consistently hilarious as this one—with one exception to be addressed shortly. But for all its dysfunctionality, the show has an endearing quality to it because the love the parents feel for each other is undeniable.
We still aren’t going to break our track record of unusual themes for the shows we’re examining. How on earth can four hyper-geeky physicists be consistently, gutsplittingly hilarious week after week without fail? Yet this show pulls it off like a pro.
And so does its theme song, which breaks records for being clever and catchy. And who can resist shouting the punctuating word at the end with the singers? But again, each episode only treats us to a chunk of the whole song.
If all that weren’t enough, this show also manages the near-miraculous feat of making Wil Wheaton cool.
Let’s just get it out there now that every show in this list has the characteristic of being unique in theme from every other show in the history of television. The next one is no exception, and if it weren’t for its predecessor hit that it was spun off from, probably would never have made it to the screen if it had to rely on this pitch:
“A pompous barfly with an equally pompous brother of questionable sexual orientation has a radio show where he dispenses psychological advice but goes around making a mess of his own life. And his father’s dog keeps staring at him.”
There’s barely a hint of a theme song at the beginning of this show, but it’s distinctive and, even without the stylized image of the famous skyline of the city it takes place in, we’d know what show’s coming up with the first couple of notes.
But over the closing credits the song finds its place, sung by the starring actor in a hip jazz beat that chases away any blues one might be feeling—as if anyone could feel the blues after watching this brilliantly written comedy without a single dud episode.
The song’s still short, though. But this mix of the song comes to the rescue, developing the hell out of it into a toe-tapping, makes-you-want-to-jump-to-your-feet-and-dance four-and-a-half minutes of jazz heaven.
Was I right or was I right? Didn’t it toss your salad and scramble your eggs? (Keep the comments clean, people.)
Which leads us to our final selection, the show that was the origin of “I’m listening.” The show that tempted us to shout “Norm” along with the bar patrons every episode. The show where baseball laurels were rested on, where hair was carefully protected, where mail was always misdelivered, where Italian wombs pumped out babies like Pez dispenses candy. The show where everybody knows your name.
And with that heartwarming cast of characters came a heartwarming theme song that was arguably the most touching work of art a television theme song ever aspired to. A theme song which, again, has more to it than we hear in each episode.
Every one of these shows was unique in a way that was never duplicated. Isn’t it an interesting coincidence that each of their theme songs also has its own uniqueness? I suspect that’s no coincidence. I suspect the creators put as much thought into the theme songs as they did the shows themselves.