In previous posts about bygone trends, we discussed TV titles and TV movies. Today's topic: the title songs of movies, a trend that reached its heyday in the 60s, which was not coincidentally the heyday of the opening credit sequence.
These are the songs that play over the opening credits. There are people for whom these are the least interesting items on the soundtrack, perhaps because they're waiting for the "real" music and not these concessions to pop, conceived with an eye on the hit 45rpm and radio promotion.
Then there are those benighted ones among us who think they're a highlight! I'm especially addicted to the stupidest, most insanely catchy ones. Neal Hefti's SEX AND THE SINGLE GIRL, sung by Fran Jeffries. John Williams' JOHN GOLDFARB PLEASE COME HOME, sung by Shirley MacLaine. Ron Goodwin's THOSE MAGNIFICENT MEN IN THEIR FLYING MACHINES. HELLO DOWN THERE (written & sung by Jeff Barry). This latter piece of nonsense has Tony Randall and Janet Leigh living under the ocean; it haunts me from TV airings during the fourth grade. I would buy this soundtrack in a New York minute.
The trend began in the 50s with items like THREE COINS IN THE FOUNTAIN (sung by Frank Sinatra, while The Four Aces had the radio hit) and WRITTEN ON THE WIND (The Four Aces). Sammy Cahn wrote these lyrics, respectively to music by Jule Styne and Victor Young. Not to be confused with Sammy Fain, who wrote the music for Paul Francis Webster's lyrics on LOVE IS A MANY-SPLENDORED THING (sung by a chorus, not The Four Aces, though theirs again was the hit) and IMITATION OF LIFE (Earl Grant).
If I refer to these examples as lushly romantic schlock, don't think I'm being negative. I'd love a copy of Grant moaning "Imitation of Life." Heck, I'd love the whole Frank Skinner soundtrack, which should also have Mahalia Jackson's "Trouble of the World". Remember what I said about that New York minute? Anyway, as title songs began to proliferate at the dawn of the 60s, they got snazzier, jazzier, hippier, trippier, and even sillier. We can identify more than one genus or sub-type.
1. The James Bond song. For many of us growing up as these movies and their ilk were all over TV, the very concept of a title song, complete with dazzling credit design and preferably after an opening sequence, first infiltrated our consciousness here, courtesy of John Barry. Shirley Bassey! Tom Jones! Nancy Sinatra! And in the 70s, Paul McCartney! Carly Simon! And in the 80s . . .a-ha!?
Notice these people don't even appear in the movie; they were only commissioned for the title song. This could be its own variant, because we have people like Mel Torme celebrating a SUNDAY IN NEW YORK, or Jack Jones opining about WIVES AND LOVERS, or Matt Monro glad to be BORN FREE, or Brook Benton taking a WALK ON THE WILD SIDE.
I mentally separate these examples from the school of studio singers and choruses who weren't famous. These latter seem like less of a marketing stunt and more of an organic conception, but that could be a matter of perception.
Anyway, it was because of James Bond that the many countless imitations became convinced they needed a cool song during the credits (and they did), and so we have, for example, Nancy Sinatra on THE LAST OF THE SECRET AGENTS and Bassey again on THE LIQUIDATOR.
The Bond song is one animal that hasn't died, only morphed. BTW, one of the great Bond songs of recent years is Scott Walker's "Only Myself to Blame," but that belongs to the new species that has replaced the title song: the song commissioned for the end credits crawl after most people have left the theatre.
2. Doris Day. Most of Doris Day's movies aren't musicals, but she seems to have been contractually obligated to sing a title song and have done with it. Thus we have a string of tunes like PILLOW TALK and THE GLASS BOTTOM BOAT. There are variations. "Que Sera Sera" was performed within THE MAN WHO KNEW TOO MUCH, not over the credits. (A collection exclusively devoted to her title songs wouldn't be out of order, Sony/Columbia.)
This trend can be thought of as taking advantage of the singer who's acting in the picture. Dean Martin provided the same for WHO'S GOT THE ACTION and a few others. Bobby Darin did his part for his Sandra Dee team-ups COME SEPTEMBER, IF A MAN ANSWERS and THAT FUNNY FEELING. (And oh, sweet Betsy from Pike, how many long years have I been waiting for his recording of THAT DARN CAT? When will that materialize on one of Disney's endless repackagings of movie songs, not to mention their original LP? How long must I languish in the wilderness?)
Frank Sinatra seems to have avoided this most of the time, though there are examples like COME BLOW YOUR HORN, and he provided songs for films in which he doesn't appear, like the aforementioned THREE COINS.
Nat King Cole's recording of THE BLUE GARDENIA isn't so rare, nor even "I'd Rather Have the Blues" from KISS ME DEADLY, but have you ever tried to find him singing CHINA GATE? Forget it. It's not even on the OOP 1993 Capitol CD "Nat King Cole at the Movies," which even has NIGHT OF THE QUARTER MOON.
3. Henry Mancini. Often working for Blake Edwards and frequently with lyricist Johnny Mercer, how many title songs did this genius not provide? It's sometimes the case, however, that the lyrics weren't actually heard over the titles, or that the radio-ready hit wasn't even a title song (e.g. "Moon River" in BREAKFAST AT TIFFANY'S, "Nothing to Lose" in THE PARTY). WAIT UNTIL DARK had a title song but was heard at the end credits, which still counts.
This aspect could be considered "calling in the heavyweights." Burt Bacharach and Hal David were among those called in, as witness WHAT'S NEW PUSSYCAT (Tom Jones), AFTER THE FOX (The Hollies), and the hit non-title-song (Raindrops Keep Doing You Know What) dropped into the montage of BUTCH CASSIDY. (Perhaps mid-movie montage songs should be considered their own different but closely related species. These are songs that nobody on screen is singing, but they magically appear for romantic sequences, such as Dusty Springfield's voice dropping in for "The Look of Love" in CASINO ROYALE.)
Well, it goes like it goes, and there's got to be a morning after. Someone who loves these songs would have to drop a lot of cash getting entire soundtracks just for one song on them. I envision a Rhino-esque cross-licensed collection of hip, cool, and dumb title songs, not overlooking the scads of uncollected ones. Maybe there could be separate collections for the 50s, 60s and the dying but funky gasp of the 70s. Hush your mouth! | 
