The Lost Art of the Needle Drop

There's a lot of songs in my regular rotation of music that I can't listen to without immediately thinking about a particular movie or television show. Sometimes it's a song I already loved before watching something, and sometimes it's a song I only discovered because it was used in a scene that stuck with me. In general, I think there's something really interesting and important about how music can become so closely associated with a piece of visual media that it's almost impossible to separate the two. A good needle drop can make an already memorable scene even better, but it can also turn a relatively ordinary moment into something that audiences remember for years.

I've been thinking about this a lot recently, partly because of a few examples that have stood out to me. I recently watched Amazon Prime's Sterling Point, which had a strikingly fresh and full soundtrack I haven't experienced in a lot of recent television watches. I've also been thinking about Fergie's "London Bridge" appearing in Primetime, and one of my favorite scenes in Aftersun, both of which reminded me of just how much a well-chosen song can contribute to a movie or television show. It's something I wish more filmmakers took advantage of, especially when it feels like so many soundtracks have become content to provide background music rather than create moments that audiences associate with the media long after they've finished watching it.

The Soundtrack of Coming of Age

As mentioned prior, one of the things that initially stood out to me about the tv show Sterling Point was its soundtrack. The show features a pretty extensive selection of music, but what I appreciate most is how genuinely current its choices feel without necessarily relying on the biggest songs on the radio and actually picking songs that fit the scenery and story instead of random Taylor Swift picks just for the sake of it. The specific songs that stood out to me were from Olivia Rodrigo, boygenius, Laufey, and Samia, primarily "maggots for brains," "True Blue," "Lover Girl," and "Big Wheel." These aren't necessarily the songs dominating the charts, but they're songs that I know people actually listen to, and they're music that would realistically exist in the lives of the people the show is depicting.

A party scene from Sterling Point, where the soundtrack reflects music that actual, more chill modern teenage parties often have playing.

The distinction between soundtracks that exist for the sake of supplying media with a background track and soundtracks that line up thematically with the media itself is an important one. A lot of television shows about teenagers seem to approach music as another opportunity to establish an aesthetic, often relying on the same handful of recognizable artists or nostalgic hits to communicate a particular idea of youth. Sterling Point felt much more interested in reflecting the actual music tastes of its characters, or at least the music tastes of the demographic it's portraying. Its soundtrack feels contemporary without being entirely dependent on whatever happens to be popular at the moment. To me, it felt that somebody involved in putting it together actually listens to this kind of music rather than simply searching for songs that fit a particular demographic.

It also makes the show feel more grounded. Music is such a significant part of how people develop their identities, especially when they're younger, and the songs someone listens to can say quite a bit about them without needing to be explicitly acknowledged. I think having music that feels like it belongs to the world of the show makes that world considerably more believable and easy to get attached to.

Music as an Aesthetic Bridge

Another recent example that caught my attention was the use of Fergie's "London Bridge" in Primetime. I don't want to overcomplicate what is ultimately a pretty straightforward song choice, but I think it's a particularly good example of how a needle drop can benefit from the identity of the movie it's being used in.

The scene in Primetime where "London Bridge" begins to play, accurately reflecting the time of the film.

Primetime has a pretty heavy aesthetic reliance on 2000s culture, and "London Bridge" feels almost impossibly appropriate within that context. It's a song that immediately transports you to a very particular period of pop culture, as it carries its own associations with the fashion and music of the decade. Considering how much of the movie's identity is built around that period, the choice feels completely natural and still somewhat tongue in cheek.

I think what makes it work so well is that the song already has a pretty distinct identity before it even appears in the movie. Anyone familiar with 2000s pop music probably has some association with it, and using it in Primetime gives those existing associations another context. It demonstrates that a needle drop doesn't necessarily have to carry some particularly profound emotional meaning to be effective, as sometimes a song is just so perfectly suited to the world of a movie that its inclusion makes the entire experience memorable.

Under Pressure & Emotional Build-Up

Of course, one of my favorite examples of a needle drop throughout nearly any media I've ever seen comes from Aftersun, which is one of my favorite movies ever made. The use of Queen and David Bowie's "Under Pressure" is one of the most memorable musical moments I've experienced in a movie, and I think it's a particularly good demonstration of just how much a song can contribute to the emotional impact of a scene.

Aftersun's standout scene, where "Under Pressure" plays behind Sophie and Calum's dance.

What makes the scene so effective is the way it builds toward the song. Throughout the movie, there's an underlying sense of distance between Sophie and her father, Calum. Their relationship is affectionate and loving, but there's also a disconnect that Sophie is too young to fully understand. The audience, however, is watching these memories with the knowledge that something is wrong, even if the movie never gives us a straightforward explanation of exactly what that something is. Much of the emotional weight comes from the things left unsaid, and from watching Sophie try to understand her father through the relatively ordinary moments they share together.

When "Under Pressure" finally plays during the karaoke scene, it feels like all of those emotions are coming together. There's something affecting about the setting itself, with a vacation, a father and daughter spending time together, singing and dancing with other people. But knowing what we know about Calum, and understanding the distance that exists between the two of them, makes the song feel considerably heavier. Its lyrics about pressure and the need for love and connection take on an entirely different meaning when placed alongside their relationship. There's both a sadness and a fullness to the scene that I don't think would be nearly as apparent without everything that comes before it.

I also think the choice works because of how recognizable the song already is. "Under Pressure" is hardly an obscure discovery, and most audiences will arrive at the scene with their own existing associations with it. But Aftersun gives it another meaning, one that's inseparable from the movie's emotional experience. It's difficult for me to hear the song now without thinking about Sophie and Calum, particularly the karaoke scene and everything that it represents within the context of their relationship. The song in itself becomes another way of understanding the movie.

Something else I find particularly interesting about the scene is how it relates to the movie's broader treatment of memory. The entire film is constructed around Sophie looking back on a vacation with her father, trying to understand the person she remembers through the things she couldn't recognize when she was younger. Music is already an important part of that process, with the film using songs to establish a sense of time and connect different moments in Sophie's memories. "Under Pressure" is the culmination of that idea, as a song that exists independently of the movie, but with an inclusion that gives it a permanent place within the story Sophie is trying to make sense of. I've thought about that scene long after watching Aftersun, and it's difficult to imagine the movie without it.

I don't think memorable needle drops have completely disappeared from modern film and television. There are still plenty of productions that understand how effective they can be, and the examples I've already mentioned are proof of that. However, I do think there's a difference between using a song because it fits the general atmosphere of a scene and using a song because it adds something that wouldn't otherwise be there.

A lot of soundtracks seem to prioritize familiarity or aesthetic consistency over making individual musical moments memorable. There's nothing inherently wrong with using recognizable songs, and nostalgia can be an incredibly effective storytelling tool when it's used intentionally. But sometimes it feels like productions are more interested in making sure audiences recognize a song than in considering what that song actually contributes to the scene. A familiar track can establish a decade or communicate a particular mood, but that doesn't necessarily mean it will leave a lasting impression.

I also think there's a tendency to treat music as something that exists alongside a scene rather than something that can actively shape it. A song plays during a montage, an emotional conversation, or a particularly dramatic moment, and it does its job without necessarily leaving much of an impression. There's a difference between a song that happens to be playing while something happens and a song that becomes part of the reason you remember that something happened in the first place. The latter requires an amount of thought about the relationship between the music and what's happening on screen, which should be more intentionally thought out.

Not every scene needs a perfectly selected pop song or that original scores are somehow less valuable. Some of my favorite movie moments rely almost entirely on original compositions, and there's an entirely different kind of storytelling that comes with that and deserves its own article. But I do think there's something unique about taking an existing song, one that already has its own history and meaning, and placing it in a context that changes how people experience it. A filmmaker has the opportunity to introduce an audience to a song they might never have heard otherwise, or to make a song they've known for years feel completely different.

Ultimately, I think what I appreciate most about a good needle drop is how much it can change the way I experience music outside of the movie itself. There's something special about hearing a song and immediately being transported back to a particular scene, remembering the characters and everything that was happening when it played. Sometimes a movie introduces me to a song I end up loving, and sometimes it takes a song I've heard hundreds of times and makes me hear it completely differently. There's a reason some of the most memorable moments in film and television history are remembered alongside the music that accompanied them.