I'd like to add my two cents to those folks who also love The Wedding Singer and American Psycho.
I’m obsessed with musical theatre pastiche scores. There’s just something weirdly magical about a show that commits—really commits—to sounding like it belongs to a specific time or genre. Not in a parody way. More like it got dropped out of a time machine with a fully formed record collection and the confidence to match.
Take The Wedding Singer. That score doesn’t just nod at the '80s—it throws on a powder-blue tuxedo and crashes the wedding. Every song feels like it’s pulling from a real moment on the radio. “It’s Your Wedding Day” has that bright, synth-poppy energy that could’ve easily opened for Huey Lewis and the News. “Let Me Come Home” is basically Journey, if Journey had been slightly drunk and very emotional. And “Somebody Kill Me”? That thing is soaked in post-breakup rage—like Adam Sandler channeling Billy Idol through a karaoke mic at 2 a.m. The show just leans all the way into the big hair, the bigger drums, the ridiculous earnestness. It doesn’t wink—it feels.
Now swing over to American Psycho and it’s a completely different beast. Still the '80s, technically. But this time we’re not in mall pop territory—we’re deep in the world of slick, expensive suits, glassy eyes, and synth lines that feel like they’re judging you. Duncan Sheik didn’t go for nostalgia here; he went for aesthetic precision. There’s Depeche Mode in the bones of this score. There’s New Order’s chilly cool, and something a little more obscure and weird too—like the darker corners of late-'80s club music. “You Are What You Wear” plays like the Pet Shop Boys got lost in a fashion house murder fantasy. “Selling Out” feels like a Wall Street anthem wrapped in neon lights and existential dread.
It’s fascinating, really. Both shows use pastiche to anchor themselves in the same decade, but the way they sound couldn’t be more different. The Wedding Singer is all heart, hairspray, and open arms. American Psycho is detached, deliberate, and dangerous.
"It does what a musical is supposed to do; it takes you to another world. And it gives you a little tune to carry in your head. Something to take you away from the dreary horrors of the real world. A little something for when you're feeling blue. You know?"