The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
b-side
Thursday, December 5, 2019 — 3B

Television shows can be immortalized in a number of ways. 
Perhaps it’s a character like The Fonz from “Happy Days,” who 
haunts our lives and Henry Winkler’s to this day. Or maybe it’s a 
catchphrase like “You got it dude!” uttered in “Full House” by a 
much-less-terrifying Olsen twin. Even a setting, like the Central Perk 
coffee shop of “Friends,” can launch a TV show into everlasting fame. 
But among these quirks and traits, there is one element of television 
that is both wildly important and vastly underrated: the theme song.
Like the score to a movie but arguably much more important, a TV 
show’s theme song sets the tone for the entire series. Take one of the 
most famous, “Where Everybody Knows Your Name,” of “Cheers” 
fame. The soft piano, banging chorus and melancholy lyrics perfectly 
mirrors the escape from the brutality of life the show’s bar provides 
its characters. Or the catchy rap of “The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air” 
that literally details the entire background to the series. How could 
we possibly understand what was going on if we didn’t hear that Will 
Smith got into one little fight and his mom got scared, so he had to 
move in with his auntie and uncle in Bel-Air?
Theme songs are a unifying force among people 
who love a show and those who hate it. Even if 
the characters and plotlines of “Friends” send you 
spiraling into a fit of rage, you’re still going to do the 
four claps when called for. Does “Full House” make 
you want to punch Bob Saget a little? Too bad, you’ll 
be wondering whatever happened to predictability 
everywhere you go.
Every theme song I’ve mentioned so far is just that 
— a full-blown song. The themes of pre-21st century 
were long and cheesy, featuring some band you haven’t 
heard of singing vague references to the show. This 
changed in the years approaching the 2000s. With 
some exceptions, most contemporary shows rely on 
an instrumental to define themselves; it’s a brilliant 
display of sound association. What was before just 
some dramatic orchestral music will have you thinking 
of “The Simpsons” for the rest of your life. All one has 
to do is look at the impact that “Law and Order”’s dun-
dun has had on society to understand this phenomena.
But some shows are more successful at this than 
others, and some theme songs will fall from the 
public’s mind while others will be associated with 
their series forever. In the past decade, some of the 

best theme songs of all time have kept us from clicking “Skip Intro” 
on our streaming services. For the sake of options, I’ll be talking 
about (not ranking) shows that may have started before 2010, but that 
ended in this decade or are still airing today. So as much as it kills me 
to have to leave out the absolute banger that is the “That ’70s Show” 
theme, it won’t be included here. All of these themes are also solely 
instrumental, so Zooey Deschanel will have to remain locked up in her 
fairy castle for yet another day.
“Curb Your Enthusiasm,” “Frolic” by Luciano Michelini
Leave it to Larry David to use a short and springy theme that 
perfectly captures the mediocrity of life. “Curb Your Enthusiasm”’s 
bouncy theme combines a tuba and a mandolin to accent the ridiculous 
mishaps and embarrassments of David’s life. The way the tuba pomp 
pomp pomps in before the strings take over is pure genius, capturing 
a human emotion of absurdity that words cannot. The theme song has 
taken on a life of its own, becoming a meme and the go-to music to 
edit over any stupid event that occurs. The title of the theme, “Frolic,” 
further embodies the essence of “Curb” as Larry David scampers 
through life in yet another show about nothing.
“Bojack Horseman,” “Bojack’s Theme” by Patrick and Ralph 
Carney
Similar to “Curb,” “Bojack” is a mildly depressing show that’s 

thematically centered around the mundanity of life. The theme 
song’s psychedelic synths are drowned out by horns as the colors 
of Bojack’s life flash behind him while he stares, emotionless. The 
theme embodies the confusion that Bojack faces as he tries to turn 
his life around, bouncing back and forth between who he once was 
and who he is now. The theme is slightly mournful, rounding out an 
artistic commentary unexpected from a show in which people and 
animals coexist, have sex and use drugs.
“30 Rock,” “Theme from ‘30 Rock’” by Jeff Richmond
Comedy theme songs love their horns, and “30 Rock” is no 
exception. The theme to this “SNL”-based sitcom is rushed and 
upbeat, as though New York City has been turned into sheet music. 
The unmistakable rise and fall of the baritone sax works its way 
through the hectic background of the drums. Anyone that’s ever 
walked outside 30 Rockefeller Plaza or worked in entertainment 
knows exactly the sentiment being conveyed: Everything is chaotic 
and a disaster, but hey, at least we’re having fun.
“Game of Thrones,” “‘Game of Thrones’ Theme” by Ramin 
Djawadi
Yes, the show is overrated, but the music definitely isn’t. The 
intense orchestral intro to “GOT” sounds both modern yet fitting to 
the medieval setting to the series. The battling of string instruments 
that start low and eventually crescendo is able to 
represent many aspects of the show without saying a 
word. The listener can feel the battle raging between 
dark and light, good and evil. There is a sense of 
urgency to the sound that brings the viewer through 
a journey before the first scene. If you’re not about the 
gore and assault that this show is rooted in, at least 
watch the first two minutes for some good music.
“Mad Men,” “A Beautiful Mine” by RJD2
Just as comedies love horns, dramas love strings. 
Set in the ’60s, “Mad Men” could have easily picked 
a jazzy piece from the era, but they went a different 
way. While Beck was originally contracted to make 
a theme, the singer dropped out due to little faith in 
the success of the show. After hearing this RJD2 song 
on NPR, show creator Matthew Weiner scratched the 
words and edited the instrumentals to get the theme 
song for his showpiece. The suspenseful strings in 
the beginning suggest danger is near, and when the 
drums come in it’s as if someone’s running to get 
away. The song is sexy, polished and mildly unsettling 
— everything you would get if you took starring actors 
Jon Hamm and John Slattery and turned them into a 
composition.

Lyricless theme songs, featuring orchestras ... also horns

SAMANTHA DELLA FERA
Senior Arts Editor

B-SIDE: TV NOTEBOOK

HBO

Canadian-born violinist Lara St. John made 
headlines this past July when The Philadelphia 
Inquirer published a 5,000 word exposé detailing 
St. John’s allegations of sexual abuse against former 
Curtis School of Music faculty member Jascha 
Brodsky. The article also contained allegations that St. 
John had told Curtis administrators of this abuse, first 
in 1986 and more recently in a letter she wrote to the 
school’s president in 2013.
The Daily spoke to St. John by telephone about the 
#MeToo movement, classical music, her allegations of 
abuse and others that have rocked this industry. 
The Daily: How do you think the #MeToo 
movement has affected classical music as a whole?
St. John: I think pretty strongly in the past two 
and a half years. It started with Levine and then there 
were some other conductors like (Charles Dutoit) and 
then William Preucil in Cleveland. I came out with my 
allegations against my teacher in Curtis. I don’t think 
I would ever have been listened to back then. And I 
probably would have been blacklisted … I’m sure it still 
happens but hopefully those would-be perpetrators 
are shaking in their boots at this point.
TMD: Your allegations spoke to institutional 
culpability that extended a lot beyond one person. 
How has the structure of the industry 
at large dealt with this?
St. John: I don’t think the 
institutions have been dealing well 
with it. I think every school is hoping 
that this will just go away, that 
we’ll just forget about it. It’s like the 
anonymous commenters that are just 
like, “Get on with it. Go on with your 
life.” And it’s just like, “No!”
TMD: How have people who 
don’t have an institutional tie and 
don’t have a reason to be scared been 
responding to you?
St. John: I sort of became a hotline 
this past summer. I heard from a lot of 
people for a couple of months. People 
are afraid because it’s their livelihood 
and if they do come out with their 
name, it’s still possible that presenters 
or orchestral representatives will 
blacklist them. People will say to me, 
“Look I’ll talk to you but it has to be 
off the record.” Of course I won’t ever 
out them but it’s really upsetting. It 
shouldn’t have to be that way. That’s 
what I want to change and that’s what 
hasn’t ever changed.
If you look at Placido Domingo, for 
example, who was one of the latest 
who was accused of harassment 
— everyone’s known that. It was 
an open secret. But only two of the 
many women came out with their 
own name. It was something like 10 
percent of (the women) came out with 
their name and it hurt the other 90 
percent.
The Daily: You came forward so 
publicly with this allegation and you 
refused to stop speaking about it. How 
has your role in the industry evolved?
St. John: People talk to me a lot, 

which is why I am working on a documentary about 
this. I feel like people will speak to me long before 
they will speak to some interviewer like you or Katie 
Couric or one of those people. It’s an understanding 
that I have that maybe the average person doesn’t 
have.
I have yet to see what’s going to happen. It’s 
totally probable that there’s going to be some dude 
in Kentucky that doesn’t want to hire me because I 
said this or that, but in that case I don’t want to work 
with someone who won’t work with me because I was 
raped as a child.
The Daily: Right.
St. John: (Laughing) And I shouldn’t have said 
Kentucky! I mean any place, of course.
The Daily: If you look back ten years and then 
come back to the present, what has changed over the 
past ten years? Do you think institutions have made 
changes?
St. John: There’s no question that these institutions 
wouldn’t have changed without the pressure of the press 
… Without sunlight as the disinfectant nothing would 
have changed. They would keep trying to pretend that 
nothing happened. And I think that people are less and 
less willing to allow that to happen. 
And this is not to say that only women are abused 
by their teachers, but women have had a lot more 
recognition in the past ten years. And as women get more 
chances these things start to change. You see a lot more 
women composers being recorded, 
being performed. Women conductors 
are (becoming more common) as well. 
It’s not great but it’s a start. And it’s 
much, much better than it was ten years 
ago. 
The Daily: And here we’ve had the 
allegations against David Daniels and 
Stephen Shipps and we’re in the same 
state as Larry Nassar. How do you think 
education has been affected by this too?
St. John: I know when I was a kid 
there was this mentality, especially 
in music, that your teacher is God. I 
think it’s changing now, especially 
because a lot more teachers are women, 
especially in the violin world. If you 
look at Curtis right now, for example, 
(many) of the teachers are women. And 
none of the teachers think “in order 
to teach you I need to break you down 
psychologically.” 
I’m hoping that, given what’s come 
out in the past two years, it will scare 
potential perpetrators from doing these 
things. And windows in doors — I mean 
how hard is it to put windows in doors? 
These are simple steps that need to be 
taken.
The Daily: And what do you see 
going forward? If this movement were 
to continue to evolve, how do you hope it 
would?
St. John: In music … we start so young. 
It’s all one-on-one and it’s so intense and 
it’s so much practice from such a young 
age. It’s so ripe for abuse. I just hope we 
can keep future 14-year-olds from having 
this happen to them. And if it does happen 
— when it does happen — they won’t be 
ignored, and mocked, for what someone 
did to them. I want people to be listened 
to and I want people to be believed. 

The evolution of #MeToo

SAMMY SUSSMAN
Daily Arts Writer

Hip hop is the most popular genre in the country 
right now (when lumped together with sister genre 
R&B). YouTube data geek Data Is Beautiful shows 
hip hop and R&B becoming most popular around 
’08 or ’09 by measure of record sales; Nielsen 
places its ascendancy at 2017, with hip hop and 
R&B dominating in sales, charting and Grammy 
nominations. Either way, by most measures, hip 
hop has become the genre of the nation in the 2010s 
— and the decade’s ruling rapper has never been 
clearer.
The meteoric rise of a decade-defining rapper
Even though he got his beginnings in ’04 under 
the moniker K-Dot, Compton-based Kendrick 
Lamar wasn’t on anybody’s radar until Overly 
Dedicated in 2010. The little-known mixtape earned 
Kendrick a spot in XXL’s 2011 Freshman Class, an 
accolade that meant a lot more back then than it 
does now. His first independent album Section.80, 
like Overly Dedicated, remained low-key outside of 
Los Angeles and hip-hop circles. Still, Section.80 
was acclaimed for its dark and thought-provoking 
lyricism. While others, inspired by West Coast 
legends like Dr. Dre and Snoop Dogg, wore their 
Compton background like a brand of toughness, 
Kendrick used his experience to develop a socially 
aware message.
At the end of 2012, good kid, m.A.A.d. city was a 
hurricane in hip hop. Kendrick’s debut studio album 
sparked heated online arguments about the concept 
of an “instant” or “modern” classic. Storytelling was 
already Kendrick’s greatest strength, but he amped 
it up to the max for one of hip hop’s most cinematic 
albums of all time. Every music journalist made it 
their mission to explain what a “concept” album 
was and why GKMC was the greatest one of all 
time. By the time To Pimp A Butterfly dropped in 
2015, Kendrick was one of rap’s most universally 
acclaimed emcees, the holy hip-hop prophet. 
Few albums have combined so much artistic 
experimentation and conscious, clever songwriting 
while remaining smooth and accessible. President 
Obama himself deemed “How Much A Dollar Cost” 
his favorite song of 2015.
Since then, Kendrick has been eating Grammy 
awards and Platinum certifications like candy. 
Somehow untitled unmastered., a compilation album 
of TPAB demos, sounds better than most records 
from 2016, even without any unifying theme or 
message. DAMN. in 2017 was a little more divisive 
among hip-hop superfans, but critics and the 
mainstream rallied behind it for album of the year. It 
even won a Pulitzer Prize. Masterminding the hype 
of Black Panther: The Album in 2018 was just icing 
on the cake of Kendrick’s decade of domination. He 
didn’t need to release another album in 2019; there 
was no rapper who could do anything in 2019 to 
make a difference to the record. If Kendrick hadn’t 
sealed the deal halfway through the decade with 
TPAB, then DAMN. put the nail in the coffin.
What makes for a “decade-defining” rapper?
My gut instinct is to say that when you think of hip 
hop in the 2010s, the recording artist that naturally 
comes to mind is the one who defines that decade. 
But that’s who defines your decade in hip hop. Who 
defines the decade? Some point at the numbers: 
Kendrick has numerous awards and sales accolades 
and chart positions, all the stuff that only kind of 

matters. But that has little to do with his dominance.
Not much of Kendrick’s work has shown direct 
influence in terms of the type of music that’s coming 
out. That’s something we’ll probably see in the next 
10 or 20 years. But there is something to be said for 
the way every move Kendrick makes creates an 
earthquake in hip hop. Like when his aggressive 
throne-claiming verse on Big Sean’s “Control” 
sparked an enormous backlash. Or when his 
chorus, “We gon’ be alright,” was adopted by police 
brutality protesters to show solidarity in the Black 
community.
What really made Kendrick the king of the ’10s 
is simple: Prolificity, consistency and quality. In 
10 years he’s had two masterpieces and four other 
amazing albums. His versatility has led to songs 
that are dense, layered works of art while remaining 
accessible in the mainstream (see “Swimming 
Pools”). And his writing is some of the most thought-
provoking across all genres of music, whether it’s 
intricate metaphorical storytelling or gripping lines 
that could be broken down and analyzed for days on 
end. My personal favorite: “If a flower bloomed in a 
dark room, would you trust it?”
No real competition
The strongest defense for Kendrick as the rapper 
of the decade really comes in just two words: Who 
else?
Looking specifically at the 2010s, the competition 
immediately slims down. Kanye West and Lil 
Wayne have arguments for the 2000s, but not the 
2010s. Many rappers that started to gain traction 
in the beginning of the decade haven’t been as 
consistent or maintained their relevance, like Big 
Sean or A$AP Rocky. So who does that leave? Who 
first started to pick up steam in 2010, and has had 
an enormous impact going into 2020?
Tyler, the Creator is one of the first to come to 
mind, especially in terms of influence. His work 
with Odd Future has already done so much for hip 
hop — there’s no BROCKHAMPTON without Odd 
Future. I don’t think his pre-Flower Boy material is 
near good enough for him to qualify, though.
One of the few artists who has enjoyed as much 
mainstream popularity over the decade as Kendrick 
Lamar is J. Cole. He’s also similarly celebrated by 
his peers. That’s where the argument for Cole ends, 
though. Among hip-hop fans, his fame has always 
been divisive — so divisive that it wouldn’t be fair 
to consider him.
That only leaves one real competitor. Someone 
who first rose to prominence this decade and stuck 
in the popular consciousness ever since. Whose 
influence on hip hop can be seen far and wide. A 
pop culture icon of the decade: Drake.
This is the closest call to make, and the only real 
threat to Kendrick’s title. Drake came up in the 2010s, 
he has popularity and influence that transcends 
Kendrick Lamar, he is easily the best-selling rapper 
of the decade and has numerous awards and records. 
But there is one thing that really holds him back.
When you stack the best Drake album — If You’re 
Reading This It’s Too Late or Take Care — against the 
worst Kendrick Lamar album — DAMN. or Black 
Panther: The Album — there’s a very fair argument 
to be made that Kendrick’s worst is better than 
Drake’s best. I think about what will stand the test 
of time. What will be a celebrated classic, and what 
will become a relic. I don’t know if Drake will be a 
relic or a celebrated classic of the 2010s. Kendrick 
Lamar though — he will never be a relic, and he will 
certainly be a celebrated classic.

A case for King Kendrick

DYLAN YONO
Daily Arts Writer

B-SIDE: MUSIC NOTEBOOK
B-SIDE: COMMUNITY CULTURE NOTEBOOK

The Daily 
spoke to 
St. John by 
telephone 
about the 
#MeToo 
movement, 
classical 
music, her 
allegations 
of abuse 
and others 
that have 
rocked this 
industry.

