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.