Twin Peaks: The Sound of Storytelling, by Kas Batchelor
- wmsr60
- Oct 31
- 7 min read
Late last year, when the leaves started turning and frost began to lightly sparkle the ground, I realized I was in dire need of a new ‘comfort’ show. I wanted something captivating, a series that went beyond a casual interest. I needed something that could transform my psyche into self-reflection and redefine my view of the world. So, after some recommendations, I sat down and committed myself to watching the widely celebrated ‘90s television series, Twin Peaks.
Twin Peaks, in all of its simplicity, is a murder mystery show. But, would you be surprised if I told you it went deeper than that? After the town’s beloved homecoming queen, Laura Palmer, washes up dead on a beach, FBI Special Agent Dale Cooper is tasked with solving her murder. However, as Cooper quickly learns, this town has dark secrets that go beyond the fundamental question of the show: Who killed Laura Palmer?
Ah, yes, that silly old question that constantly demands one’s continued attention became intrinsic to my viewership. Part of me felt as if the mystery wouldn’t be solved unless I kept watching to find out; an even bigger part of me felt as though I was keeping Laura’s fictional memory alive through my viewership. Isn’t that always silly to think about—how entranced one can become by the plot and characters of a show? The influence of the show’s creators, David Lynch and Mark Frost, made it stronger and deeper than that, though. At its core, Twin Peaks explores the duality and inherent complications of human nature. Through their collective writing and Lynch’s directing, Dale Cooper became a surrogate for the audience, as he dove into uncovering the secrets of the town not just for himself, but for us as viewers. We followed Cooper’s mind, dreams, and trials as he encountered each new quirk of Twin Peaks and its residents. This sense of participation culminated in a strong sense of belonging for watchers, which then encouraged and inspired us to investigate life to its fullest and embrace the whimsical nature of mystery.

When season 1 of Twin Peaks first premiered in April of 1990, it became a hit almost immediately. The show’s pilot amassed a whopping number of 34.6 million U.S. viewers, with attendance staying consistently high throughout the subsequent 7 episodes of the first season (twinpeaksblog). Safe to say, I was not the only one who was entranced by the surreal Lynchian universe that made up the town of Twin Peaks.
Yes, I was heavily drawn in by the world that the late auteur, David Lynch, created. I will admit, even obsessed. This show was exactly what I had been looking for: It was a thousand-piece puzzle that I had none of the parts to, and yet that didn’t stop me from trying to connect together what I was given. There was some sort of conceptual magic within this show: A greater call to those in life who sought out the mysteries of the universe. The characters were strong, fleshed-out individuals who contained a multitude of traits. It was clear that Lynch and other creators gave care to the creation of these fictional townspeople. They were given flaws, emotions, and independent thoughts that brought their stories out of the screen and into our hearts. For example, the tragic character of Laura Palmer was not left in the rearview mirror as the show progressed. If anything, she was one of the first fictional women to “haunt the narrative.” Laura is simultaneously a ghost and a living spirit that accompanies every move the show makes, for both the townsfolk and us, the viewers.
There are many aspects of Twin Peaks that solidify its lingering fame: the plot, the characters, the cinematography, and more. As an English major and film fanatic, I could go on and on about the roles these devices play in fleshing out the show. None of these would have been complete, however, without the iconic accompanying soundtrack of the first season.

Music from Twin Peaks (1990) was co-produced by the late American composer Angelo Badalamenti and David Lynch. More specifically, the lyrics were written by Lynch, and the music was composed by Badalamenti. Though mostly instrumental, this 11-track LP features 3 vocal songs from the late singer Julee Cruise (who also made a featured appearance in Twin Peaks). Their work together for this album defines the show’s narrative and atmosphere as a whole. It combines ominous jazz, dreamlike synth, and vocals to immerse the audience directly into Lynch’s world. This trio of creatives was formed long before the conceptualization of Twin Peaks in 1989, though. They had formed a strong working relationship during Lynch’s fourth film, Blue Velvet (1986), which continued into work on Cruise’s debut album, Floating Into the Night (1989). Three of Cruise’s songs from this album would appear in Music from Twin Peaks (1990): “The Nightingale,” “Into the Night,” and the iconic song, which features its instrumental as the opening theme of Twin Peaks, “Falling.”
This was an avant-garde yet compositionally strong trio. As composers, Lynch would provide lyrics he had scribbled onto a piece of paper or verbally talk through his vision, and Badalamenti would improvise what Lynch envisioned for the songs. In a Rolling Stones interview conducted with Badalamenti, the musician stated in relation to the creation of “Laura Palmer’s Theme”: “‘David said, ‘Start it off foreboding, like you’re in a dark wood, and then segue into something beautiful to reflect the trouble of a beautiful teenage girl. Then, once you’ve got that, go back and do something that’s sad and go back into that sad, foreboding darkness,' … ‘Maybe it was luck, but literally, in one take, I translated those words into music.’” That is often how their collaborations worked; almost like a dream, the music would come to life and transport the musically creative ideas Lynch had into a reality.
If you have already seen Twin Peaks, I would bet that you’d be able to recognize the opening theme song immediately after the first two notes hit your ears. “Twin Peaks Theme” is the first introduction viewers get into the enigmatic world of the show, accompanied in the introduction by shots of the town and the surrounding forests of Washington. Badalamenti stated in a Vulture article that “[Lynch] heard [the instrumental to “Falling”] and said, ‘Angelo, this is the title. This is the identity of Twin Peaks.’” The haunting melody utilizes a variety of synthesizer effects and a melodic keyboard to set a sense of melancholy and nostalgia. It’s almost a false depiction of normalcy within the town, only underscored by the eerie “bassline” that reminds the viewer how in this world, things are not always as they seem. What continues to keep this theme song so everlasting is the wide range of emotional complexity it can bring out in a listener. With so many musical components so intentionally intertwined, you can truly feel a different emotion every time you listen to it. It is a testament to the power of music and composition as it works to enrich storytelling and serve as an emotional involvement for the viewer.

“Audrey’s Dance” is another song that has been solidified as a quintessential piece of Twin Peaks media. It is a theme song for the character of Audrey Horne, one of Laura’s classmates and acquaintances, who is indirectly impacted by the death of Laura. In fact, “Audrey’s Dance” is a reworking of “Laura Palmer’s Theme” (can be heard most at the 4:30 mark). Audrey’s theme, however, is styled after cool jazz and has a distinctive blues rhythm that makes you want to get up and do a little shimmy to it, just like Audrey as she dances in the R&R diner. It features notable jazz concepts such as a walking bassline, finger snaps, and drums played with brushes. Actor Richard Beymer played the role of the scheming hotel owner Ben Horne, who is Audrey’s father in Twin Peaks. Interestingly, the finger snaps utilized in this song are in reference to one of Beymer’s breakout roles as Tony in West Side Story (1961). Kinny Landrum, the synthesist of the Twin Peaks soundtrack, was a fan of Beymer and decided to add the effect (Soundtrack from Twin Peaks). In dissecting the themes of this song with Audrey, one can notice another motif of the character that turns up. By working “Laura Palmer’s Theme” into Audrey’s, one can get a sense of how their fates, while different, are similar and tied. It shows how Audrey is also one of the many misunderstood and deeply tragic characters the show introduces us to.
Two other songs from the album, “The Bookhouse Boys” and “Freshly Squeezed,” also recur often throughout the show, with similarly jazzy and eerie themes. The combination of synth with more commonly used jazz instruments works to create a sense of a dissonant haze, combining radically different sounds and themes to create a “musical montage for the album” (Vulture).
Finally, I encourage you to take 5 minutes and listen to “Laura Palmer’s Theme” if you can only pick one of the songs I have listed. Once you have heard it, it becomes very apparent that this creation was not just luck, as I quoted from Badalamenti earlier: it was every implementation that Lynch described his ideal theme for Laura to sound like. This theme, like Laura, haunts the narrative of Twin Peaks. It appears only when it can break your heart the most. It is first heard in accompaniment when Laura’s body is initially discovered during the pilot episode. The theme begins with a brooding section, providing a tense atmosphere of uncertainty and foreboding. It then has a slow, delicate climb into an emotional climax that pulls on one's heartstrings, culminating in a quiet de-escalation back to the atmospheric synth first heard. These two contrasting sections summarize the turmoil of Laura’s fictional life perfectly. It reflects the duality of her personality, the tragedy of her death, and provokes the listener to view her as more than a corpse or a plot device. The song’s omnipresence throughout the season allows us to view her as a multifaceted character, one who both struggled and succeeded. At the end of the day, this theme reflects how Laura was just a teenager trying to work through the trauma she faced, something many of us can relate to.
There are so many endearing aspects that draw viewers into the Twin Peaks universe, but none would be the same without the incredible dedication and care that Badalamenti, Lynch, and Cruise put into the making of Music from Twin Peaks (1990). Their work reflects the spirit of Twin Peaks: mystery, enchantment, and excitement. Further, it reflects the common theme throughout Badalamenti and Lynch’s work of bewilderment, which was sort of Lynch’s forte. The man loved to leave things up for interpretation, which is one of the beautiful things about Twin Peaks. There is a multitude of meanings that the viewer can take from immersing themselves in the vision that these late creatives had. By continuing to search for these meanings, we are forever able to keep the memory, creativity, and love they shared alive.





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