The Supreme Leader: “Why have you come?”
Captain EO: “To bring a gift, your highness. To someone as beautiful as you.”
The Supreme Leader: “So… let me see this gift!”
Captain EO: “Not only see, your highness… but hear.”
Captain EO (1986)
The music of the Disney Parks plays a fundamental role in any guest’s visit. Long after a day at the parks, the infectious songs “Yo Ho (A Pirate’s Life For Me),” “The Tiki, Tiki, Tiki Room,” “Grim Grinning Ghosts,” and countless more stay firmly rooted in one’s memory, following you home like a hitchhiking ghost. This formal element of storytelling plays such an essential role in the Disney Parks – the sweeping motion of classics like Pirates of the Caribbean commands an equally rousing musical score.
To clarify, these are all explicit representations of music; songs with lyrics which played within the “captive audience” context, in which guests’ attention is directed specifically to the song at hand, experiencing the song at the intended pace of the show or ride-through. Another, more subtle musical presence of background area loops, is implicit, not as commanding of guests’ attention, but equally powerful in conveying a sense of mood, place, and story. Truthfully, many guests may not notice it’s there – but the alternative (for instance, walking down Main Street, USA with no upbeat ragtime accompaniment) is nearly impossible to imagine.
Like all formal storytelling aspects, the choices made when developing the background music (BGM) of a themed space are fundamental to orient the guest and inform their experience within that space. Of course, among all of Disney Parks & Resorts (let alone the Disneyland Resort), there is an almost-infinite plethora of analysis to dive into, but today we look at one element in particular: how the produced aging (or not) of a recording tells its story of one’s relationship to surroundings. The post-production choices for the music of Jungle Cruise and Indiana Jones Adventure create a cultural dichotomy and an underlying sense of danger, while the music of Buena Vista Street (of a similar time period) invites guests to become part of the space and embrace their surroundings.
The music of two keystone Adventureland attractions illustrates not only the broader story, but also orients the guest as a remote outsider within this mysterious, exotic locale. The queue areas for Jungle Cruise and Indiana Jones Adventure feature BGMs of radio broadcast loops of big band-era songs with radio news interludes, all processed and aged with static noise and radio fuzz.
The music itself (even without the post-production work) truly speaks worlds about the story and environment guests are experiencing. The instantly recognizable and iconic songs, such as Glenn Miller’s “Moonlight Serenade” and American Songbook standards like “As Time Goes By” contextualize the guest within the 1930s. Among the song choices are also “Moon Over Burma” and “Indian Summer,” and additional songs framed more around the exotic realms claimed by the British Empire, a musical exotification stemming from the imperialistic conquest by western nations. While these songs may be less recognizable to the everyday guest, their lyrics reflect the fascination and wonder of western colonists and visitors to the real-life exotic locales – an experience mirrored by the Disney Parks guest exploring the mystery and romance of Adventureland. There is something striking to find yourself in a lush, tropical environment while hearing the sounds of distinctly western genre of music; the guest experiences a sharp disconnect between the familiar and the exotic.
This cultural dichotomy contributes to the mood of danger and an inherent “not belonging,” strengthened by the static noise of the Adventureland radios on the “last outpost of civilization.” The poor audio quality, particularly noticeable by the choppy processing of such recognizable big band songs, reflects an implicit separation from the familiar world. Guests are exploring at the edge of the radio waves, on the brink of losing contact with the (presumably western) world they venture from. There are even moments on the Jungle Cruise radio where we lose contact with the broadcast, left with the unsettling whine of a radio dial with no signal. These warnings remind guests that they are truly on the edge, moving deeper in the jungle will cut off all communication with the world they know.
While the audio production for these Adventureland attractions tells a story of separation and disconnect, the music of Buena Vista Street invites guests in to embrace the environment surrounding them. The songs of Buena Vista Street are likely not as well-known by guests (the best-known song in the 29-track loop is probably “Stompin’ at the Savoy”), yet their fresh, live sound and lack of post-production aging immediately cues guests that they are part of a living, thriving environment.
Buena Vista Street represents 1920s Los Angeles as Walt Disney may have experienced it when he arrived to California in June 1923, and the songs of Buena Vista Street reflect the optimistic, vibrant story inspired by this past. The songs selected are in fact contemporary recordings, performed within the past two decades by revival big bands like Mora’s Modern Rhythmists, recalling the youthful excitement of the fresh jazz scene of that era. The choice to use recordings that are less familiar than Glenn Miller or Artie Shaw eliminates a fundamental themed entertainment concern, of taking guests out of the space. An iconic recording like Glenn Miller’s “In the Mood” would immediately evoke a sense of past, not the present. The classic big band-era represents such nostalgia and, frankly, age to the typical guest, so a deviation from the iconic jazz recordings takes away that risk of breaking the sense of now and the present that Buena Vista Street otherwise embodies. At Disney California Adventure’s rope drop, Camille Dixon even invites guests to experience “[their] own California Adventure” – the park represents their story as much as it does Walt Disney’s. This is a living environment for guests to explore and become a part of.
The audio source of Buena Vista Street also represents an interesting distinction from the radio broadcasts of Adventureland. At Buena Vista Street, the BGM plays organically throughout the land, from the park turnstiles up through Carthay Circle plaza. Jazz music even travels on-the-go, with the delightful Hollywood-bound sextet Five & Dime. The music is an omnipresent youthful spirit generated from the environment itself, while the songs of Adventureland are more deliberate, relayed via radio broadcast. Entertainment is a deliberate mechanism in Adventureland, requiring human intervention via technological institutions. In Buena Vista Street, music and entertainment are simply de facto to the landscape.
Adventureland and Buena Vista Street are two fascinating examples to compare because they both use songs of the same era, but to fundamentally unique ends. The muffled radios of Adventureland remind us we are on the brink of mystery and danger, while the fresh recordings and upbeat excitement of the Buena Vista Street music create a thriving, vibrant atmosphere. Both musical stylings play a truly instrumental role in creating a fully developed and defined guest experience.
These opinions are my own and do not represent The Walt Disney Company.
The Brer Patch 