Staff Pix 12/1: Jukebox Musical

5, 6, 7, 8! The Milk Crate staffers are directing and scoring their very own jukebox musical numbers, presented with blurbs worthy of a promotional sticker on a jewel case. Tune in Fridays from 3-4PM EST to the Staff Pix radio show.

Anya Perel-Arkin

“Even Flow” by Pearl Jam

Before I even say anything, I need you to bear with me. This won’t work if you’re too quick to judge—we need to be on the same page for this. While I was home for Thanksgiving break, a sweet escape from the swing of the semester, I found my mind deliciously blank. The hours of travel had dropped my consciousness into an empty pillow case and whacked it against a wall until I could no longer think. I had entered somewhat of a “functional meditative state.” After that trek back home, I texted my best friend of ten years, Alex, the words “Pearl Jam is like a musical” buried within a series of unrelated texts. I expected him to gloss over it. My brain could only be at its most innate condition to brew something so vacantly terrible, yet he’s heard me say much more appalling things than that. Little did I know, those words would mark the beginning of a serious, comprehensive creative project that would impact both of our lives emotionally and test the durability of our friendship. “The Pearl Jam musical,” as we’ve been calling it, is centered around the narrative surrounding Jeremy from the song “Jeremy” on their bestselling debut album, Ten. Although this show will have a cast of its own, the members of Pearl Jam will also be castable roles (if we can’t get the real guys). This is actually something that Alex and I have been *rather hotly* debating. Should the members of Pearl Jam exist in the actual universe of the Musical, interacting and living with the rest of the cast? Or do they exist as somewhat of an omniscient group, such as a Greek chorus or the trio of ladies from Little Shop of Horrors? Nonetheless, “Even Flow” is clearly the opening number. With melodic solos for dance breaks and Eddie as a real castable character, I could surely meet him.

Julia Norkus

“This Is The Day” by The The

Ok, if you’re a die hard Milk Crate stan, then you know I will beat this song to a pulp before I stop using it for Staff Pix. Driving into the sunset? “This is the Day”. Movie Crate? “This is the Day”. You name the theme, I’ll find some way to put the square block in the circular hole. But hear me out, the movie Empire Records should be a jukebox musical. A ragtag group of teens work in a record store on the brink of closure, stacked with a soundtrack that embodies the feeling of working at a record store in the ‘90s. In the movie, “This is the Day” is the closing song—on the screen, you see the employees dancing on the roof while the song plays in the background amidst laughter. But I feel like this would be a beautiful overture into an opening number. A la A Chorus Line or Rent, I envision the employees on an empty stage in a long line, all while the orchestra plays a few notes of “This is the Day”. Ideally, it would be the twinkly introduction that bleeds into the sounds of an accordion. Maybe they’d break out into a fun little dance with each other, or it’d be interactive with the audience. Who cares, it’s stupid and it’s fun and today is that day (your life will surely change).

Karenna Umscheid

“21” by Samia

Though I have dreams of writing a Bruce Springsteen jukebox musical and a honky tonk country one, neither of those are autobiographical. For my own personal jukebox musical, I need comprehensive indie girl angst, a mix of gut-wrenchingly sad ballads and motivated pop jams—Samia’s discography just perfectly fits the bill. “21” is my favorite track of hers, a single released in 2018.  Each detailed lyric drips with angst and passion, lust for life and desire for control. It’s like she’s reading my inner monologue! In my jukebox musical, the actress playing me skips and runs around the streets of Boston, dramatically screaming the lyrics “I will speak for my generation / Famous by association / I’m 21.”

Izzy Desmarais

“Airbag” by Radiohead

My love affair with the supreme male manipulator band began in December 2019. I was a junior in high school, it was three months after an emotionally catastrophic breakup, and yes, I was still actively crying over him. In all seriousness, I can’t think of a better time in my life to start listening to Radiohead. My dad likes OK Computer best, so that’s where I started. I’ve always wanted to write a rock heavy jukebox musical. As a matter of fact, I did start writing one based on Weezer’s unreleased space opera, Songs from the Black Hole. I could have picked a song from that record, but to be frank, I don’t absolutely love what would be the opening number (“Blast Off!”). I think a post-apocalyptic, dystopian musical set in a vaguely near distant future is the perfect vehicle through which to perform OK Computer’s tracklist, along with some songs off Kid A and In Rainbows. “Airbag” is, in my humble opinion, severely underrated. It possesses that certain je ne sais quoi that all good opening numbers have, where you get this tingling in your cheeks and you can’t help but smile, because you’re about to watch (or listen to) something incredible. Four years later, I still get chills every time I listen.

Stephanie Weber

“Baby got Back” by Glee Cast

Imagine you’re me, with nothing to do, and want to have a laugh with your friends circa Spring 2022. You make a jukebox musical based off the real play Sex Please, We’re Sixty. One of the numbers? “Baby Got Back” by the Glee Cast. With choreography. Originally sung by Sir Mix-A-Lot, “Baby Got Back” is an iconic rap song all about sexy women. It opens with the easily recognizable line, “Oh my God Becky, look at her butt / It is so big.” He goes on to rap an entire golden age rap song, dotted with equally crude and relatable lyrics like “I like big butts and I cannot lie,” “Deep in the jeans she’s wearing / I’m hooked and I can’t stop staring,” and “I’m tired of magazines / Sayin’ flat butts are the thing.” The song was released in 1992, but Glee covered it in 2014 in a slower, acapella style song performed by an NYC choir college group. It’s one of the weirdest songs Glee ever covered, and that’s saying something. Jukebox musicals are also weird, so why not make them even stranger and more random? A quirky cover with cringe a group dance is the perfect opening number for a jukebox musical. Confuse your audiences with the Glee cover of “Baby Got Back!”

Sean Perry

“Hospital (One Man Down)” by Madison Cunningham, Ft. Remi Wolf

I’m writing this blurb under the assumption that this jukebox musical is about me and my life because I am the most special little guy. This pick is a bit silly because Madison Cunningham herself has gone on record to say she has no idea what this song means. Despite this, the spunky garage band vibe of the song combined with the super relatable lyrics led me to pick it for this prompt, since I feel like it represents so many facets of my life. I’ve always loved really punchy songs that have a more experimental feel, and Cunningham and Wolf do a great job at cultivating this really specific vibe that rots my brain in the best way. The song has so many unidentifiable sounds and strange vocal choices that could transfer really well to a stage setting. I also really relate to a lot of the lyrics that Cunningham includes on the song, such as “I am an antenna / A feeding tube and a hard drive / Entertaining myself to death / To maintain some sort of life” and “Let me make a mistake / It'll pay for its own cost / 'Cause regret is like an infant / That won't let you sleep it off.” This was a hard prompt to pick a song for because I wanted to match my general vibe but also choose something punchy enough to be an opening number. I should never have a jukebox musical written about my life though because it would be so crazy boring. Absolutely zero plot would be present and I actually lied about being the most special little guy.

Gabriella Collin

“Eyes Without a Face” by Billy Idol

I’m allll out of hopeeeee. Sure. We all are. Center stage, our leading man, in Reeve Carney fashion, laments the death of his relationship. The stage is washed in purples and reds, and when performed on the Tony’s, the upper echelon of musical theater is politely moved to tears. Billy Idol must have known he would be big, when he decided his stage name would call him an idol. Double piercings on the “gay ear”, carved out cheekbones and threateningly blond hair, “Eyes Without a Face” counteracts the “bad boy” persona. However, in my jukebox musical, Too Tense, my leading man is already a loser. He’s soft and squishy, pliable like air dry clay, and too in touch with his emotions. The stage performance of “Eyes Without a Face” picks up right after intermission, the curtains are already parted as he solemnly walks out. His lover has called it quits, and he sings by himself. As the song progresses, the ensemble joins in, shrouded behind gauzy curtains with choruses of “oohs” and “aahs” while leading man confesses, “Reading murder books, trying to stay hip / I’m thinking of you, you’re out there so / Say your prayers.” The musical ends with Leading Man’s suicide, and while it’s nominated for 5 Tony Awards, all it wins is “Best Lighting Design in a Play”.

Ellie Abbey

“Follow The Sound” by The Backseat Lovers

On my first listen of Waiting to Spill, “Follow the Sound” immediately transported me to a different world, which I believe is exactly what an opening number should do. The car alarm into the piano with the slow build of other instruments also gives so much room for one of those musical openings that just slowly unfolds more and more information. I’m picturing the set and crew being slowly revealed throughout the first verse. Also, who is Martha? I haven’t a clue, but she can join in I guess! I don’t know how many of you writers actually paid attention to the three act structure when they taught it, but the entire hook being the question of “should I run?” is basically the call to adventure. Boom, the show is written for you within the first song. Should you run? Should Martha come with? “Follow the Sound” sets you up for it all.

Bennett Himmel

“Benny My Dear” by zella Day

Let’s ignore the fact that a staggeringly large portion of my spirit is picking this song because the name “Benny” sounds sorta kinda like “Bennett.” (Side note: Don’t call me Benny, ever.) But the song also feels like a giant opening number. It sets a perfect scene of someone so deep in the trenches of self doubt that they simply can’t see the beauty of the world around them. As a major apocalyptic thinker, I really relate to the song, and because I think every single thing is about me, I always get teary-eyed to the lyric “Don’t be afraid that you’re gonna get hurt / If you’re living that way, Benny, you’ll never learn.” She’s singing to me, obviously, she just got my name wrong a little bit! I picture a beautiful spinning mirrorball over me and the cast of my own jukebox musical, creating the best, biggest last party before the end of the world.

Malia Welham

“We Shine At Night” by Parannoul

With this song as the opening number of my jukebox musical, the first scene has to be a six minute slow motion montage of me running. I can see it so clearly. Hair in the wind, sun setting, waves crashing in the background. “Where am I running to?” you might ask. Well, I’m still figuring that out.  Korean shoegaze and emo artist Parannoul has quickly become a personal favorite of mine. His lush and atmospheric arrangements generate a sense of longing that never fails to speak to every fiber of my being. I would like to think my jukebox musical could capture the pure artistry and storytelling of this track, but I’m not quite sure that’s possible. Parannoul begins by inviting the listener to share a feeling of yearning for a past that’s return is uncertain. The distorted guitar, glistening violin, clashing drums, and desperate vocals all meld together in order to immerse the listener deeper into the song’s story. Until the track ends with repeated cries of “It's not over yet/ Let's go back home.” Now, I know where I will be running to in my six minute slow motion montage. Home.

Lia Klug

“Leah” by Roy Orbison

On the nose? Yes. Still perfect! Although the spelling is off, I love this song because my name never gets to be in songs! My friend Caroline has like a million bajillion songs to pick from with her name in it, I have this. Also, I hate when jukebox musicals use modern music so that's off the table for me. Like sitting in a Broadway theatre and hearing someone who is not Katy Perry belt “Roar” is just not gonna do it for me (sorry & Juliet!). I envision this song as an opening number to be sung by the entire company besides the actresses playing me. The focus would be on these multiple girls going about their life, one child, one teen, one adult. Think of the opening number of Beauty and the Beast when all the townspeople are singing about her and she seemingly can’t hear them. The song ends with a progressively louder “Leah, Leah, Leahhhhhh” BAM opening line from adult Lia.

Serenity Holland

“Play The Game” by Queen

This song, making a mockery of love is fitting for the lore of my youth. I remember being in my junior year of high school unlicensed and mad at the world. Sitting in the passenger's seat of my dads Volkswagen just to sigh to his same old questions about my day. One day, I reached my breaking point so I connected to Bluetooth and turned the volume up. Of course, there was a Queen phase in which “Play The Game” became the anthem to my adolescent rage about not only the mundanity of my social life, but the fact that I wasn’t really hungry for anything more. This song and its synths, GOD THE SYNTHS, I just completely let myself go when it came on. I’d be excited for that 15 minute ride to my friend's house because I knew my dad wouldn’t dare comment about the volume of this song. The sick guitar riffs and choir sections screaming at me to “play the game of love,” was just ironically exhilarating to me as love was the least of my concerns. This opens my jukebox musical, a one-man dance number wearing a black and white clown costume head banging himself to the point of a headache in front of a mirror. That’s what early adolescence looked like for me.