The ’90s were undeniably the pinnacle for iconic TV theme songs. From the opening notes alone, most people will recognize the music from hit shows such as The X-Files, The Simpsons, or Beverly Hills, 90210. But the jewel in the crown of pre-millennium television earworms is surely Twin Peaks. The opening twangs of baritone guitar skillfully anticipated the otherworldly soap opera born from the intellects of David Lynch and Mark Frost, and the ensuing refrain would go on to live in the minds and ears of a captive audience for decades to come.
Here we dive into the lore of this now-revered composition, from the events that necessitated it, to the people and equipment that gave it life.
A Place Both Wonderful and Strange
The landscape of late-1980s TV was in a period of transition. The airwaves were dominated by apathetic serial dramas and sitcoms steeped in canned laughter. Something radical was aching to break through, and who better to lead the revolution than the director of cinematic cult classics Eraserhead, The Elephant Man, and Blue Velvet?
Surrealist auteur David Lynch was attracted to the idea of a story that unfolded episodically but had no experience within that medium. A partnership with Mark Frost—one of the scribes behind the wildly successful Hill Street Blues—meant that any network qualms were silenced, and the duo set out to alter the panorama of American television forever.
First airing in 1990, Twin Peaks became an overnight sensation, with audiences clamoring to the tube each week to discover “Who Killed Laura Palmer?” It marked a turning point in the art form, with a focus on visual aesthetic, emotional depth, and dark mysteries intended to remain eternally unsolved. The show went on to be honored as a critically acclaimed masterpiece, winning multiple awards and frequently ranking high on lists of the greatest television series of all time.
Let’s Rock
Among Twin Peaks’ enduring charms is the tragically beautiful score by composer Angelo Badalamenti. Lynch had previously worked with Badalamenti on 1986’s neo-noir thriller Blue Velvet, where he was hired as a last-minute replacement for a scene requiring a pianist. So enamored was Lynch by the musicianship he heard that Badalamenti was asked to oversee the movie’s soundtrack.
Fast forward to 1990, and it was clear that there was nobody better suited to compose songs for the equally somber and ethereal Twin Peaks. The writing process involved Lynch sitting next to Badalamenti at a Rhodes piano, describing scenes, with Badalamenti improvising music to accompany. Lynch would merely adjust the imagery if the music wasn’t going in a direction he favored.
“[Angelo Badalamenti…] can write music that’ll tear your heart out!”
Tandem to the cultural revolution unfolding on-screen, innovations were also being made in synthesizer technology—notably in the quality of sample-based synthesis. Instruments such as the Roland D-50 allowed articulation and authenticity to emerge from previous generations of decidedly electronic sounds. These sonic capabilities meant that Badalamenti’s compositions carried an air of earnest sentimentality that audiences weren’t used to hearing or feeling.
Other instruments featured on the recordings include the Roland MKS-70 rack unit—which was preferred for string sounds—and the JX-10, with the Soundtrack patch appearing prominently throughout the score, all performed by master synthesist Kinny Landrum. Standout tracks include the towering “Laura Palmer’s Theme,” reflective “Audrey’s Prayer”, and saxophone-led tearjerker “Half Heart”.
Where We’re From, the Birds Sing a Pretty Song
Before we go any further, it’s important to acknowledge the 1989 album Floating into the Night by Julee Cruise, and its lead single “Falling.” During the production of Blue Velvet, Badalamenti had been tasked with writing a song in the style of This Mortal Coil’s “Song to the Siren,” since the original was too expensive to license.
Cruise was hired for vocal duties and the song “Mysteries of Love” was birthed, beginning a three-way partnership between Lynch, Badalamenti, and Cruise. Floating Into the Night—Cruise’s debut album—would feature songs composed by Badalamenti, with lyrics penned by Lynch, including “Falling.”
“The sky is still blue, the clouds come and go, yet something is different, are we falling in love?”
An instrumental version of this track would subsequently serve as the opening theme for Twin Peaks. The lyrical content demonstrates the same wistful sensibilities for which the series became famous. And the arrangement and instrumentation are as iconic examples of dream pop production as anything by Cocteau Twins or Mazzy Star.
Andrew Mueller of Melody Maker magazine perhaps put it best, writing of “Falling” in 1990, “Lilting and lovely and should make you want to weep diamonds.” The track has since cemented its legacy, topping the Australian singles chart and earning a place on NME’s list of the 100 best songs of the 1990s.
I Find Myself in Need of Something New, Which, for Lack of a Better Word, We Shall Call Magic
Finally, we arrive at the iconic “Twin Peaks Theme.” The familiar tremolo-soaked baritone guitar announces the start of each new episode, but this time performed on a synthesizer. Legend has it that a snippet of the guitar part from “Falling“ was sampled and then performed by Kinny Landrum on an Emulator II.
In fact, synthesized facsimiles are all over the recording, with the Rhodes of the original replaced by an electric piano patch on the DX-7, and Cruise’s vocal mirrored by the haunting strings of a Roland MKS-70. The outcome is rapturous, taking the viewer on an intoxicating voyage into the tranquil woodlands of the Pacific Northwest.
“The Twin Peaks theme isn’t just a song. It’s a portal.”
“Twin Peaks Theme” won the Grammy for Best Instrumental Pop Performance in 1991, and the show went on to boast an original run of two seasons, a 135-minute cinematic prequel, and a third season revisiting the town and its characters a full 25 years later.
If 45-50 hours of content seems daunting, rest assured that Badalamenti’s spellbinding score—particularly the hypnotic main theme—can seamlessly deliver listeners to those moonlit sycamore trees whenever necessary. So, pour yourself a cup of coffee, grab a slice of cherry pie, and revisit one of the most celebrated pieces of music for television of all time.
