What Happened to TV Show Theme Songs?
A tribute to the catchy intro
I’ve spent a lot of time rewatching TV shows this summer. If I were trying to be sentimental, I would make some connection between this fact and the other old familiarities that have characterized my past two months: living at home; seeing childhood friends; and trying to come up with funny third things to add to lists. However, I didn’t write this essay to try to be sentimental. I wrote it because I am mourning a lost aspect of mass media, and I am appealing to the cold corporate entertainment conglomerates to facilitate its return. Please, cold corporate decision-makers: warm your hearts and office walls with the tinny tune of a television theme song.
Rewatching shows has always been a favorite pastime of mine. This is another reason I won’t write about its significance to my current circumstances: it’s not exclusive to this summer or to any other time in my life. Like listening to music, watching old shows comes as naturally to me as microwaving the food I am probably going to eat while watching.
My experience with comfort television shifted back in 2017, when Netflix introduced the now ubiquitous “Skip Intro” button. For the first time, an activity I chose specifically because I wanted to turn off my brain now required me to make a decision. Would I click the button and save half a minute, or would I let that little rectangle scornfully watch me as I enjoyed a sequence that remained the same in every episode?
In the seven years since that button’s debut, I have sometimes clicked on it. Mostly, though, I let it judge me until it fades away with––I imagine––a sense of disappointment at its lack of use. I would skip my familiar TV intros if I needed to save time, but I watch TV having chosen to let go of the need to save time. If I were worried about productivity, I wouldn’t be watching something I’ve already seen in the first place. The “Skip Intro” function is strange to me because it contradicts the very reasons we turn to entertainment. We watch TV to rest and experience a world that’s just different enough from the one we’re living in. Why should we make the most of every minute when we’re seeking relief from having to do that every day?
Many of the shows getting released these days don’t even have an intro that’s long enough to skip. Instead of the tried-and-true montage, credits, and theme song, we now get title cards that flash across the screen for as little time as possible, often superimposed over the episode’s action so as not to waste a single second. For a recent example of this, see HBO’s Hacks––an otherwise brilliant show in praise of which I could write a very long and very different article.
Some shows still have a repeating jingle or frame that opens each episode, but these moments don’t have the same effect as a true intro. Abbott Elementary comes to mind: we get a one-take shot of students arriving at school that does a good job of transporting us to the sitcom’s familiar setting, but the music is not especially catchy, and it’s all over in twelve seconds. (Abbott Elementary, I should mention, is also a favorite show of mine; anything I say about a given intro reflects little to nothing about my feelings for the show itself.)
I miss long TV show intros, their lengthy theme songs and extensive credits, not because of their cinematic merit––very few of them have much of that––but because of what they signify. I rewatch shows because I’m seeking comfort. As melodramatic as it sounds, there aren’t a whole lot of things on this dying planet that reliably provide comfort. TV might be banal, but it does that. While it’s comforting to relive old plot lines and revisit beloved characters, I don’t truly feel that essential mix of nostalgia and solace until I hear the notes of a familiar thirty-second theme song that’s been worn out over several years and seasons. It’s like stepping off a train––or out of a subway station––onto your street corner and inhaling the very specific scent of that very particular place. The smell itself might be bad, but it’s familiar enough that that doesn’t matter. The stimulant is less important than the thought it sparks: oh good, here we are again.
TV’s relative lack of new theme songs suggests that the entertainment industry isn’t interested in investing in longevity. Nostalgia is certainly still of interest––sequels and reboots bring in reliable profits, and we can all see how often they’re produced––but creating new worlds that will one day become a source of comfort is not. To satisfy my own nostalgia, I’ve ended this article with three of my favorite TV show intros and a few words about what I think makes them sing.
30 Rock
This show is beyond weird, and the intro’s mix of sepia tones and black-and-white characters hint at that. The music is fun and upbeat and I imagine it being performed by a lone saxophone player even though it contains at least two other instruments.
Downton Abbey
This one’s a drama, which is a bit more unusual for me. But what a dramatic intro it is! The visuals seem pretty typical for a big British country house, but the music is perfect. The opening notes are ominous yet exciting, and it’s all a little dark and suspenseful––perfect for a show that’s very escapist but has its own high stakes of murder trials and repeated emotional upheaval.
The Addams Family
Not much to say about this one. Any show that can forever associate something as simple as two snaps with a creepy kid in pigtails and a disembodied hand deserves a mention.