Last week the film, TV, trailer, and advertising music communities celebrated the 5th Annual Guild Of Music Supervisors Awards, honoring brilliant work in the craft across all disciplines
Both Variety and Billboard, published recaps of the event, which featured performances by Laura Welsh, Mat Kearney and Kevin Ross, and special guest presenters like Moby, Stuart Murdoch (Belle & Sebastian), Ester Dean (Pitch Perfect), Gavin Rossdale and more, all of whom seemed to rather get a kick out of the whole thing.
My personal assessment is that it was an amazing and inspiring experience to be surrounded by so many peers, friends and mentors. A nice reminder of what an amazing community I stumbled into, and how lucky I am to work, struggle and create alongside these people every day. To be able to call myself a “music supervisor”. And the lamb lollipops were on point.
Navigating the sprawling metropolis of Los Angeles, congested with both cars and billboards everywhere you look, staring up Jack Black’s crotch or being forced to accept that Khloe and Lamar are indeed “famously” in love, it’s often hard to remember that being a celebrity used to look quite different.
It’s not that the old Hollywood is gone, you just have to pay attention. Just glance past the flashing lights at the Hollywood sign, drive by Culver Studios, grab a bite at the Formosa Cafe, and even if it’s cheesy, go to the Walk of Fame and see if your hands are as small as Gloria Swanson’s. I might work at a film studio, but sitting in a cubicle under fluorescent lights day in and day out, I often feel as close to “Hollywood” as Ron Livingston in Office Space.
So when composer/orchestrator/arranger/all-around-great-guy, Joe Trapanese asked that I meet him on one of the great old studio lots for our interview (I would tell you which, but I’m sworn to secrecy), it was painfully hard to act cool about it. While I probably said something to the effect of, “Great. Please send over parking instructions. Looking forward to it.” In my mind, I was squealing like a tween.
Now that the holidays are over, and with them all that “peace on earth and goodwill towards men” nonsense, it’s that magical time of year again when judging people is not only acceptable – it’s glorified. That’s right folks, it’s awards season. Which means for the next few months we all turn into Statler & Waldorf and every website/blog/TV show/magazine will feature the current crop of Hollywood darlings, leaping on every word and unflattering dress (or suit), debating how worthy they are for each and every nomination.
Often times at these shindigs, the music segment is overlooked – not everyone immediately thinks, “Ooh, that cue was so complex!” or stays for the more than five seconds of the end credit song – so here’s a little spotlight on what’s being voted on this weekend at the 68th Annual Golden Globes:
Anyone who knows me knows that I have an embarrassingly deep love for all things Peter Pan. When I was little I only wore floral, frilly nightgowns and kept my slippers next to the bed at all times just so I would always be prepared if Peter came one to whisk me away. No matter how old I get I will always ride “Peter Pan’s Flight” at Disney, and will cry at any movie with the general theme of growing up / loss of childhood innocence. And I mean CRY.