“Industry” BONUS: Hidden Tracks
7 songs that would make excellent needle drops in the HBO series lauded for its soundtrack.
In my latest piece, which may or may not be required reading for this one, I briefly mentioned sticking to music-focused concepts when it comes to the blog. So that was a lie… and things are about to change on here (“Of The Screen” section is now open and review of THE SUBSTANCE is coming next week, stay tuned). Nevertheless: Since the topic of Industry’s outstanding soundtrack didn’t make it into the conversation two weeks ago, I couldn’t pass up an arbitrary chance to delve into another aspect of the show that renders it so absolutely seductive — even after much delay.
The acclaimed HBO drama sees its cast go through all kinds of emotional ups and downs as they attempt to parse out how their personhood fits against the cutthroat world of finance they are called to establish themselves in. Set against the gloomy backdrop of London — a city, nonetheless, whose every corner oozes cultural significance with music taking the crown — the show illustrates its climaxes with soundtrack picks (curated by music supervisor Ollie White) that, on many occasions, lean aptly domestic besides symbolic. In Season 3, notably, some of the most memorable needle drops belong to British legacy acts like the Pet Shop Boys (“Opportunities (Let’s Make Lots of Money)”) and Duran Duran (“Girls on Film”) whose optimistic, circa 1980s pop is reminiscent of the era’s stylish capitalistic promise.
But the musical moments that have elicited priceless visceral reactions from me are plenty across Industry’s span. I remember the stunning cut “Heat Rises” off indie rock darling Nilüfer Yanya’s 2019 debut faintly echoing in the background of a gym scene in 2020’s Season 1 — a track I had spent an entire summer drowning my ennui into, way before the series had even entered my rotation. The Velvet Underground’s distortion-soaked “The Black Angel’s Death Song” struck me as one of the boldest sound choices I’ve ever witnessed on TV during a particularly distressing mid-Season 2 montage. Again, in the third season, I was taken aback by the pairing of one of the kinkiest and simultaneously most intimate character interactions in the show with “Charmed” by Σtella — the Greek Sub Pop signee’s breakout hit that still blares through Athenian cafes on the daily.
For its quieter, introspective and nightly scenes, Industry tends to employ the sultry, icy and melodic edge of underground alt-R&B and hip-hop with names like Dua Saleh and 070 Shake gracing its catalog, yet doesn’t shy away from old school rap classics of explosive impact either (S3E4’s Wu-Tang drop ends arguably the best episode of the series on a palpable high). Where the show’s unique vision truly shines, however, is in the smallest of intricacies between character dynamics, masterfully highlighted by corresponding themes. The original score of the series (composed by Nathan Micay) opts for an abundance of jittery, metallic synths as its signature motif, which drive characters’ anxiety, suspense, and enthusiasm, as well as foreshadow crucial affinities and betrayals. An immersive, swiftly recognizable soundscape, it sets Industry apart for its ability to both capture the show’s visual language and inject a soul-stirring undercurrent to its corporate madness.
I’ve been itching to get this offbeat little idea down on, um, screen, so here’s me playing music supervisor for a bit. For this bonus piece, I’ve compiled a short list of songs that, in my humble and very correct opinion, would make excellent Industry needle drops. Enjoy.
Joy Division – “Disorder”
“Could these sensations make me feel the pleasures of a normal man?”
Well, does the title not say it all? There is never a peaceful day on multinational investment bank Pierpoint & Co.’s trading floor; things get faster, move faster, get out of hand; situations spiral, characters scramble and crumble under stress and pressure.
Joy Division’s immaculately spotless, atmospheric Unknown Pleasures sound crafted around the tailend of the ‘70s is one of the great miracles of late 20th century music — and “Disorder” embodies timelessness like no other song on the record. With its sleek, sticky bassline and sharp guitar chords, the track progresses alongside Ian Curtis’ increasingly destabilizing yet restrained vocalization to culminate in its cathartic final act. A somewhat on-the-nose pick, perhaps, there is no counterargument to its belonging in the camp of contemporary classics Industry loves to surprise its audience with right before the end credits roll.
Fontaines D.C. – “Too Real”
“None can pull the passion loose from youth’s ungrateful hands”
A discography standout from their cleancut debut Dogrel (2019), Irish post-punk stars Fontaines D.C.’s “Too Real” takes off and lands in dizzying intervals of chaotic, propulsive distortion and bare, percussive sections. Its unsettling, cinematic quality distinguishes the song from a lot of the band’s earlier material; Through T.S. Eliot references and delivery that’s simultaneously impudently straightforward and poetic, frontman Grian Chatten anchors the track with fleeting imagery that reads almost like the stream-of-consciousness vignettes which accompany Peter’s chapters in Sally Rooney’s Intermezzo — evocative of a bustling working city’s ritualistic patterns that paint the picture of its ceaseless hustle, as well as the narrator’s winded state in the pursuit of their own.
There may not be a lyric more emblematic of Industry’s characters’ plight than “As I cried, I’m about to make a lot of money.” Perpetually coked-up and throwing themselves at risk for the sake of self-advancement, these young and veteran traders alike are well-aware of where their priorities lie. “Is it too real for you?”
Smerz – “Girls just wanna have fun”
“When the workin’ day is done / Oh girls, they wanna have fun”
Modern covers of classics can be hit or miss. Take Chromatics’ “Girls Just Wanna Have Some” for example, which sucks all the fun out of Cyndi Lauper’s 1983 dance hit for what? A reverbed-out cloud rap soundscape and lifeless vocals that ask “Hey, what if this silly old pop song was actually DARK as hell?” Not saying there isn’t merit to the idea. Lauper achieves what every great pop song should be able to in that track with the lines “Some boys take a beautiful girl and hide her away from the rest of the world / I wanna be the one to walk in the sun,” which do make you tear up when you’re willingly paying close attention. But that emotion, too, is flattened out by the 2015 rendition.
Norwegian electronic duo Smerz approach things slightly differently in their followup collaboration with fashion studio ALL-IN. (Last fall, they crafted one of the most interesting electro-pop projects of the year as a soundtrack for the brand’s SS24 collection built around fictional pop star Allina.) Their rendition of Lauper’s hit, though introverted, explodes in fireworks of ‘80s-inspired synths that jitter and splash perfectly akin to the ones in Micay’s vault. Taking into account the Season 1 pick of Okay Kaya’s “Believe” (Cher) cover, Industry is not immune to a revamped classic moment. And whether it be sex or drugs, when the working day is done, its girls sure know how to have some dark-underbelly fun.
Kelly Lee Owens – “Dark Angel”
Again, if “Industry synth” is fated to be dubbed a microgenre in the near future, Kelly Lee Owens has a place in the vanguard. The Welsh electronic musician and producer’s fourth album Dreamstate (2024) marks a pivot from her earlier, experimental ambient works to more compact, progressive house structures. It’s hard to think of a discography pull (besides, perhaps, Colin Stetson’s “When we were that what wept for the sea,” used in a transfixing Season 3 montage) that emulates the series’ original score better than opener “Dark Angel.”
Multi-colored and metallic-textured synths soar like swarming butterflies in this instrumental track, whose breathless-paced pulse manifests a sense of anticipation and reward that could even earn it the title of “empowering.” In that framework, when listening to Lee Owens’ composition, it’s instinctive to picture Season 1 finance newcomer Harper overlooking the London city lights on the way home from Pierpoint, while embracing the enigmatic feeling of being on the cusp of a self-altering life challenge.
The Streets – “Blinded by the Lights”
“I wonder whether they got in? / Turned away, no doubt / Who cares? This is a tune coming in”
You will have to forgive another book mention as I can’t think of a more succinct parallel to this track’s approach to narration than Rainald Goetz’s Rave; a unique work I also touched on in my Berlin “Live Diaries” piece from earlier this year, in which the cult German novelist simulates ‘90s techno club culture as he experienced it in his youth in written form, through image-stimulating fragments of thoughts and dialogue — strings of sentences that can look like “Dope music now,” or “Pleasant thoughts, cool night,” or “The dealer is here,” with little added information to contextualize them.
Cited by Charli XCX as inspiration for BRAT’s “I think about it all the time” remix, this club classic off Mike Skinner’s 2004 concept album A Grand Don’t Come for Free loops somber synths and a distant vocal hook to outline a stream of consciousness that encapsulates the exhausting and debilitating side of party life. Though the music video is set at a wedding reception, it’s almost impossible not to associate the visual of a suit-clad young man going through the sequence of alcohol, drugs, sex in a bathroom stall, and dancing under blinding strobe lights with our guy Rob and his Season 1 shenanigans. I trust the top YouTube comment to speak for both the artist and the character’s emotional core:
@DuskAndHerEmbrace13
4 years ago
The Streets captures English melancholy so well. Never melodramatic or self-pitying. Just subtle, wounded, but still finding a reason to move through life.
A.R. Kane – “Butterfly Collector”
“I’m gonna keep you / I’m gonna kill you”
Am I jumping at the excuse to talk about one of my favorite music discoveries of the year here? So what if I am. Exploring A.R. Kane’s archive has been a fascinating experience; Despite the fact the shortlived East London outfit’s music has fallen into obscurity post their 1994 breakup, there is a reason why they’re held in high regard by critics as underrecognized innovators in dream pop and shoegaze. A mystical air envelopes these projects — many of which are still being rehabilitated — which becomes all the more palpable in recordings that don’t hesitate to dive headlong into murky waters.
The 1987 cut “Butterfly Collector” is disturbing to the core. Pained, effect-laden guitars battle against each other, splattering into an ear-splitting coda which even rivals the hostile dissonance of “The Black Angel’s Death Song” mentioned above — cacophony I’d adore to see succeeded by the show’s soundtrack. Simplistic, villainous lyrics about pinning a sweet, pretty thing down, as the title suggests, could only allude to arguably the most toxic and horror-esque of Industry’s relationships: the one between Yasmin and her father, as depicted through the riveting twists and time jumps of Season 3.
FKA twigs – “Eusexua”
“And if they ask you, say you feel it / But don’t call it love”
The last indulgence comes in the form of one of the most anticipated releases of the year. I often think of how well Industry has coincided with aesthetic trends like “corpcore” and “office siren” as well as the renaissance of the “finance bro”; it’s a time when suits, ties and briefcases are strutting down runways, and corporate visuals have infiltrated music from all over the globe. In the “Eusexua” music video, FKA twigs is both the demure desk worker clocking into her sterile office job clad in conservative business formal like a Season 1 Harper, and the id-bug residing on the room’s ceiling — the inner beast that yearns for a release.
“Eusexua,” with its immersive, pulsating electronic beats and minimal harmony, is for the early morning hours in the club, when the senses are free and the grip on reality loose. It’s for the fleeting yet all-consuming moments of euphoria drawn from mundanity and for the mutual acknowledgments that pleasure can be as transcendent as love — the shared knowledge that you can never call it love.
Thank you for reading. Comments and shares are always welcome and infinitely appreciated.