The Sounds of Succession
With the season 3 finale behind us, we press rewind on the show's soundtrack to the ultra-wealthy and ultra-miserable.
Sound bites:
LCD Soundsystem are still playing shows in Brooklyn, omicron or no.
The unkillable Keith Richards turned 78 yesterday
The theme song to Succession is arguably one of the most distinctive and most beloved show themes in our current era of prestige TV. With its expansive, darkly classical melody and heavy hip-hop beats, the theme could be a Massive Attack joint, and it’s so flexible that the show gets incredible mileage out of it, repurposing the lead motif in all sorts of ways and moods. And maybe that’s why Succession, according to my extremely scientific research, uses a remarkably low number of external music cues or popular songs when compared to other prestige shows—Sopranos or Breaking Bad, for instance.
That said, with the unsettling finale to the latest season 3 behind us, and season 4 in the distant horizon, now’s the perfect time to unpack a few of the show’s most striking uses of external music——for whatever reason, I’m noticing how many of these revolve around Kendall, the second oldest son—anyone care to wager why?
Kendall kicks off the show by rapping his way to work —S1E1 (An Open Letter to NYC — Beastie Boys)
Nothing beats the feeling of spitting bars while you’re being driven to work. A great update to the cinematic trope of white male office workers rapping during their commute, this series kickoff featuring the Beastie Boys sets up quite a lot: the dramatic stakes, Kendall’s self-seriousness, his groundless, fi-bro belief in his own awesomeness, and the move-bitch, get-out-the-way mythical intensity of New York City.
Kendall stumbling downtrodden into the streets of New York after being bested by his father—S1E6 Which Side Are You On — Pete Seeger
There’s a lot to be said for the idea that Succession’s narrative repetitions underscore that its world is a hell, and one of its main refrains is Kendall rising up against Logan in acts of epic betrayal that completely backfire. There’s delicious irony in Seeger’s version of a 1931 worker’s rights rallying cry written by a Kentucky union organizer being applied to a living embodiment of entitlement like Kendall in his own moment of weary, stunned defeat. But that’s one of Succession’s strengths: putting you in the headspace of its privileged antiheroes, and inviting you to share in their emotional dramas, no matter if/especially when they can also read as completely oblivious.
Greg snorts coke to save Kendall—S1E8 (Collapsing New People — Fad Gadget)
How to soundtrack an orgy? You could do worse than Fad Gadget’s 1984 sordid industrial-dance anthem. “Collapsing New People” plays during Tom’s bachelor party at a decadent underground sex soiree as Greg tries awkwardly to intervene in Kendall’s cocaine use, but K-dog turns the tables by insisting that Greg has to split the coke with him so that he doesn’t OD. The song lyrics reflect a hedonistic vampire lifestyle, and the song’s title even seems to echo the indifferent malice by which the show’s protagonists chew people up and spit them out as they see fit.
Kendall finds a moment of genuine joy during Shiv’s wedding—S1E10 (I Gotta Feeling — Black Eyed Peas / I Wanna Dance With Somebody — Whitney Houston)
You don’t like that Black Eyed Peas song. I don’t like it. Nobody really likes it. The Black Eyed Peas don’t like it. Because it’s a cynical af party song, right down to its hypercringe mazel tovs. So it’s the perfect tune to soundtrack the feeling of being at a party when you’d rather be anywhere else in the universe. And when Kendall does get a incredibly rare moment of real happiness with his kids on the dancefloor, the music fittingly switches over to Whitney’s timeless jewel of emotional realness.
Kendall looking for pussy like a techno Gatsby—S2E2 (Porsche Majeure — TVAM)
TVAM’s Italians Do It Better-esque neo-electro clubber churns in the background of a house party that Kendall has thrown…at Greg’s apartment, which Kendall owns. Nothing like a slab of fuzzy electro pop that’s both emo and dead-eyed to sum up the feeling of zombie-walking through a world where you own everything yet feel nothing.
Kendall’s rap for Logan’s birthday—S2E8. I’m cheating here because while this isn’t a real song, it’s one of Kendall’s cring-iest, car crash-iest, can’t look away moments, and encapsulates both his character and what’s at stake for him in season 2 as he pathetically tries to ensure his own survival by publicly bootlicking his dad.
Kendall clumsily trolls Shiv’s corporate announcement—S3E3 (Rape Me — Nirvana)
In Season 3, Kendall’s ego-driven transformation into woke warrior gives him license, he believes, to do embarassing stunt-y stuff like blast “Rape Me” during a speech given by Shiv where she’s seriously trying to paper over the sexual assault allegations plaguing Waystar Royco with some grade-A corporate smooth talk.
Kendall rehearses to perform at his own 40th birthday party—S3E7 (Honesty — Billy Joel)
Honesty is such a lonely word
Everyone is so untrue
Honesty is hardly ever heard
And mostly what I need from you
We’ve already seen K-man thoroughly embarrass himself with a musical performance (see “L…to the OG!” above), so this time we only get the man, alone, with his heart on his sleeve, utterly self-important, perfectly oblivious. Maybe we can all identify with this feeling: that on some level, even our deepest feelings, our shames, our sorrows, our regrets, can be comic to others. That realization might at first seem horrible, but maybe, just maybe, it might alleviate our burdens and let us reach a brighter place. Just like Kendall—lol.