Good Lord, people, turn on your television these days and you’ll likely be left wondering – where the heck have all the good TV theme songs gone? Nowhere are they to be found among the mindless chatter and throwaway storylines of modern television; a true shame and a significant contributor to my most persistent grumblings lately.
It’s a strange nostalgia, I know. I’ve been living in Schenectady, a small city nestled in the heart of New York State, for the better part of half a century. Surrounded by stacks of vinyl records, cassettes, and multitudes of DVD collections from ‘The Golden Age of Television,’ I find myself frequently reflecting on the magic that used to come with those opening credits.
What happened to the wonderful triumphant horns of “The A-Team,” or the breathy jazz flute of “The Love Boat?” And don’t get me started on the catchy, lilting tunes of “The Brady Bunch,” or the infectious energy saturating that iconic “Happy Days” opener – those were the leviathans of their times, and giants they remain. TV theme songs used to be an attempt at capturing the essence of a show in a minute-long musical overture. They were earworms that would stick with you, becoming a part of pop culture, such integral parts of our collective consciousness that they could instantly transport us into the worlds they represented.
Now? We’re stuck with the forgettable, vaguely depressing poundings that open “Breaking Bad,” or the artistic but soulless monotonies of “Game of Thrones.” Don’t misunderstand me - those are fantastic, groundbreaking shows. But whatever happened to the theme song that stands alone? The one that could top charts, become anthems, and give birth to a thousand humming jingles at the workplaces and schoolyards, providing yes, entertainment, but also camaraderie, common ground?
Sure, they’d be embossed on your brain like seared steak after enough repetition, but darn it if they didn’t make you feel good. “Cheers”? “The Facts of Life”? Direct assaults on your cold, despairing heart – intended on assuring you that you’re not alone, that there are friends in this world who’d listen, no matter how dark the day.
My daughter once asked me why I hold such a deep fondness for music tied to television when I could listen to any Beatles or Rolling Stones album in my extensive collection. I struggled initially to make her understand. But my answer lies in a tiny abstract incident from my youth.
I‘ve chased my fair share of dreams over the years, fought my own demons. I remember, during my first struggle with heartbreak at a teary seventeen, shuffling into the living room where I was greeted by the exhilarating jingle of “M.A.S.H.” ringing through the house as my father laughed heartily at the buffoonery of Hawkeye Pierce.
In that very moment, lost in the cathartic escapism of a thirty-minute sitcom, I forgot about my heartache. It was as if the world was letting me know, through the familiar embrace of that melody, it was alright. This is the magic I sense when I think about those timeless classic theme songs. They were more than just opening credits; they were encapsulations of shared memories, experiences, and emotions.
In today’s television landscape, I feel this sensibility of crafting unforgettable tunes to accompany the visuals is rapidly waning. An increasing number of opening credits are all visuals now, a stylish montage with a forgettable tune in the background. There is, of course, an argument for art evolving, for new ways of storytelling, but why has this particular aspect of television become an endangered species?
When it comes to answering this question, one could point fingers at the business-driven world of television where time is money, and every extra second devoted to an elaborate theme song is lost advertising revenue. Or, perhaps it could be chalked up to changing tastes and aesthetics.
However, I’ve always maintained that a TV show, a good one, is about more than the core narrative it conveys. It’s about the moments between the plot twists and cliffhangers, about the sense of attachment and community it nurtures. It’s about comfort.
The rousing, melodic theme songs of my youth, they stirred emotions and made us feel a part of something bigger, part of a common heartfelt narrative. The modern–day introspective minimalism, although appreciated by some, if not many, seems ready and willing to puncture this bubble of warmth and camaraderie that we’ve previously savored. And I can’t help but feel like there’s something lost along the way.
To conclude, I make an appeal to the creators of our television world – remember the power of a good tune paired with iconic visuals. Let us not lose a critical element of shared culture for the sake of brevity or elitist artistry. Do us a favor, bring back those infectious, uplifting theme songs that resonate, cheer, and offer solace. It’s time we got our TV anthems soaring high again, filling our living rooms with harmony, laughter, and above all, unforgettable camaraderie.
