Liner Notes
From 'Songs In The Key Of Springfield'

The Musical Prehistory of The Simpsons

On Christmas morning, 1964, I was the happiest boy on Evergreen Terrace. I'd asked for, and received, my dream Christmas present: a reel-to-reel tape recorder!

Over the next several months I hid out in my bedroom and played with the tape recorder constantly. Inspired by my dad's Stan Freberg records, I made my own Matt Groening Show -- "starring Maaaaaaatt Groening, and featuring the Matt Groening Orchestra and the Matt Groening Singers and Dancers!" (Simpsons fanatics will note the almost word-for-word homage in the 1988 cartoonlet "The Bart Simpson Show" on The Tracey Ullman Show.) I sang my own them song ("Matt Groening, Cool Guy"), acted out jungle adventures, and performed stand-up comedy routines, complete with canned laughter and applause. I forced my sisters, Lisa and Maggie, to listen to my tapes all the time, rewinding and replaying the good parts while they sat there patiently, barely rolling their eyes. I was about as insufferable as a ten-year-old can be.

My other tape project was a compilation of my favorite TV-show themes on one reel. Over the next couple of years, sitting on the floor in the rumpus room with a hand-held mike next to the big Zenith, I built up quite a collection, featuring themes to such shows as The Flintstones, The Beverly Hillbillies, Branded, Green Acres, Astro Boy, Rocky And His Friends, My Mother The Car, and Milton The Monster. I also recorded my favorite TV-commercial jingles, including those for Pepsodent, Salem cigarettes, and Brylcreem. I'd like to think I was fascinated by the well-crafted arrangements, peculiar lyrics, and general absurdity of this TV music, but the truth is I thought these little ditties were catchy as hell.

When I was a teenager, I discovered movie soundtrack music. I fell in love with the Spaghetti-Western scores of Ennio Morricone, the Alfred Hitchcock soundtracks of Bernard Herrmann, and the Federico Fellini film music of Nino Rota. This was music that messed with my head, altered my mood, and dragged me out of my teenage disgruntlement. The stuff still works on me to this day.

It turned out all this taping and listening wasn't just time-wasting distraction -- it was preliminary research. In 1989, with The Simpsons as a full-fledged TV series in the works, I was able to utilize all those years of musical foolishness. From Rocky And His Friends I learned that you can make a great cartoon show even with lousy animation. (You just need top-notch writing, voices, and music.) From an interview with Mel Brooks, I learned from his observation that soundtrack music in comedies should play the underlying emotion, not the joke. And inspired by the old tape of TV themes I recorded in the '60s, I knew I wanted to get that feeling of bubbling-over-optimism- tinged-with-frantic-desperation.

The trend in TV themes for the previous 15 years had been this namby-pamby synthesizer schlock, modest in both ambition and execution. These noodly, ersatz- sentimental themes all seemed to whimper, "We can't offer much, but please like our pathetic little show!" I wanted a big, fully orchestrated, obnoxious, arrogant theme that promised you the best time of your life.

We approached Danny Elfman, whose career I'd been following since I saw him perform as the leader of The Mystic Knights Of The Oingo Boingo (best described as an avant-garde Cab Calloway-on-Mars vaudeville ensemble) at the Whisky-a-Go-Go on the Sunset Strip in the late '70s. Elfman had recently composed the soundtrack to Pee-wee's Big Adventure, and I knew he'd be perfect.

I gave Elfman what I called a "flavors" tape, featuring the kind of sound I wanted for The Simpsons theme. The tape included The Jetsons theme, selections from Nino Rota's Juliet Of The Spirits, a Remington electric shaver jingle by Frank Zappa, some easy-listening music by Esquivel, and a teach-your-parrot-to-talk record.

Elfman gave it a listen and said, "I know exactly what you're looking for."

A month later we were recording the now-famous Simpsons theme on the 20th Century-Fox lot with a huge orchestra. I think all the producers were a little nervous and fidgety about the untrendy audacity of the music. But then-executive producer James L. Brooks came in, listened a bit, then said, "My God! This is great! This is lemmings-marching-to-their-death music!"

In the ensuing eight-and-counting seasons of The Simpsons, Alf Clausen has handled almost all of the music you hear on the show. He's done a phenomenal job with the writers' odd musical requests, particularly when you realize how fast Alf has to churn this stuff out. This album is a showcase for Alf, featuring some of his finest and funniest work. I think of his music as the secret strength of The Simpsons, delivering the jokes, for sure, but also the real emotion underlying the comedy.

And all for a TV cartoon!

-- Matt Groening

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The Simpsons: Songs In The Key of Springfield

As composer and songwriter for The Simpsons, I have been asked to touch upon virtually the entire spectrum of musical styles. Now, after seven seasons and more than 150 episodes, I've included the selections I feel will be the most memory-evoking for the legions of avid Simpsons fans.

I spent many hours surfing the Net, reading the fans' opinions about the best Homer line, the best Apu line, the best musical moment, and countless other observations. This album directly reflects the fans' views regarding the most attention-getting moments from the series, making it truly a product of the '90s love affair with the Internet.

Many of my own favorites are included: "We Do (The Stonecutters' Song)," with its lusty, drinking-song ambience; "Who Needs the Kwik-E-Mart?," with the spirit and surprise of Apu's previously undiscovered singing talent (ending with Homer's now-classic line: "He lied to us through song. I hate when people do that!"); "See My Vest," Mr. Burns' outline to Smithers of his diabolical plan to create his new wardrobe from animal skins, and "The Amendment Song," a biting homage to Schoolhouse Rock. The lyrics of each song beautifully reflect the wit, intelligence, and (sometimes slightly warped) humanity of the series' stories.

Many of these selections are also favorites of my peers. They have honored me and my music for The Simpsons with three Emmy nominations for Outstanding Achievement in Music & Lyrics and four nominations for Outstanding Achievement in Music Composition for a Series (Dramatic Underscore.)

A rousing Latin version of The Simpsons' end-title music performed by the magnificent Tito Puente & His Latin Jazz Ensemble, is one of many interesting variations of the closing theme featured here. Other versions run the gamut of musical styles, from Australian aborigine and medieval Renaissance to Vegas-like big band and an homage to the music from the film JFK.

For those interested in the technical side of the creative process of songwriting, I first record all of my original songs with a throw-away instrumental version called a "scratch track." This track usually consists of a small group of studio instrumentalists, ranging from a single pianist to an ensemble of piano, guitar, bass, and drums. I then record scratch vocal tracks as an overdub to the instrumental track using studio singers. The mix of the instrumental and vocal performances is then used as a demo recording for the cast voices to illustrate style, phrasing, tempo, and structure.

This mix is almost always accompanied by a "click track," the digital equivalent of a metronome clicking the tempo of the song from start to finish. The click track is designed to assist the instrumentalists and vocalists during the recording process so that they collectively here the accurate tempo of the song. It also aids the animators in the editing process, ensuring that any edits made necessary for dramatic reasons are made "on the beat" whenever possible.

Next, the cast voices are recorded in place of the scratch vocals if cast voices are to be featured in the final soundtrack of the episode. A composite mix of the instrumental tracks, the cast voices, and the click track is then sent to the animators. Approximately nine months later, when the animation is completed and the episode is edited into its final form, I sweeten the original rhythm tracks (by adding additional instruments to the existing rhythm section track) or totally replace them with a full orchestral version. If cast voices are not going to appear on the final vocal tracks, a composite mix (of the instrumental track, the vocal tracks as recorded by the studio singers and the click track) is sent directly to the animators. The instrumental tracks may still end up being sweetened or replaced in the final version, and the vocal tracks many eventually be sweetened with additional singers if a larger vocal group sound is desired.

As involved as this sounds, the creative process doesn't end here. The original tracks are almost always edited by the animators from their first-recorded versions, either by opening them up, speeding them up, or making cuts for dramatic purposes. In those cases, the musical gymnastics required to arrive at the final versions are often highly challenging. I end up adding new measures of music, recording completely new instrumental tracks to match the edited picture with the cast voices included, or deleting measures of music before sweetening to compensate for the alterations made during the animation phase. This all takes place to bring you, the listener, to the final seamless version of each song you hear in the series and on this recording.

And, of course, while all of this is going on, I am also responsible for composing the approximately 30 to 40 music cues required for each new weekly episode.

The weekly schedule goes something like this: attend music "spotting" with the writer-producers and music editor on Friday afternoon to determine each scene (spot) in the episode that will have a music cue; start composing on Sunday or Monday; compose the music cues from 9 am until 11:30 pm each day through Thursday; spot the next episode on Friday afternoon; and record the music cues I have just composed that week on Friday evening in a three-to-four-hour recording session with a 35-piece orchestra.

The recording orchestra in made up of the finest players in the world -- the Los Angeles studio musicians. At this session, they see the music for the first time, and yet they are able to record the cues quickly, with emotion and musicality, as if they have been playing the music for months. They are consummate professional artists.

Once the recording session is finished, this schedule starts all over again for the next week. Ya gotta love your work! In spite of the intense pressure of constant deadlines, the working environment is wonderfully stimulating. It contributes to an inspiring atmosphere, which makes this a dream job for a composer and songwriter.

The Simpsons has become an international institution, a monstrous cult hit and a cultural icon. I am delighted to have a part in its creation. Hopefully, the songs, themes, underscore cues, and dialogue routines presented here will bring back many of the finest moments in the lives of Homer and Marge's crazy, lovable, all-American family.

-- Alf Clausen