Almost anyone can fall “majorly, totally, butt crazy” in love with Clueless—even those among us as oblivious as Alicia Silverstone’s Cher Horowitz. You needn’t be a Jane Austen scholar to make sense (or sensibility) of writer-director Amy Heckerling’s 1995 teen rom-com, though it’s amusing to scope out what 19th-century Emma types surface in modern Los Angeles. Nor do you need to have cruised down the palm-lined streets of Beverly Hills or suffered from buyer’s remorse after a shopping spree on Rodeo Drive to be smitten by this film’s many charms. Major snaps go to Heckerling for creating a silly, satirical world that only asks audiences—even the most “ensembly challenged”—to enter with a positive outlook, a sense of humor, and the understanding that there’s more miscalculation than misdoing in Cher’s habitual meddling. As our clueless heroine gradually learns that the most fulfilling makeovers are the ones we give ourselves, viewers do a playful lap through a Beverly Hills full of vibrant colors, unforgettable fashions, and popping vernacular with a soundtrack to match that joyful aesthetic.
Heckerling landed on the vague word “happy” to describe to Clueless cinematographer Bill Pope what she wanted Cher’s Beverly Hills to look like. But what does “happy” sound like? That’s what she and now-legendary music supervisor Karyn Rachtman had to figure out. Armed with a far larger music budget than anticipated—especially for a project that initially got “brutally rebuffed” by every studio in town—the pair leaned into Heckerling’s affinity for English bands and ‘80s rock, as well as anything else that sounded fun and upbeat. Some record label politics aside, where that cheerful vibe came from took a backseat for the most part. After all, do we really think Cher knows The Muffs from Luscious Jackson or, even if held at gunpoint in the Valley, could distinguish between Smoking Popes and The Mighty Mighty Bosstones? Probably not. She’d also likely think that World Party is a “heavy clambake” with no RSVP required—maybe one the “Hate-ians” would attend. However, we can definitely imagine all of these tunes (save for the “Josh songs”) blasting from the “monster sound system” in her “loqued-out” Jeep. In the end, Clueless serves up a soundtrack as bright and bubbling over as Cher’s optimistic worldview, full of songs that vibe with our favorite Bronson Alcott High teens and accessorize the film’s most iconic scenes.
As the famed Paramount logo gets slurped up by the opening titles, So-Cal pop punks The Muffs transport us to Cher’s Beverly Hills with “Kids in America.” It’s a bouncy, scuzzier makeover of Kim Wilde’s synth-driven ‘81 original, with Kim Shattuck’s signature sneer providing a self-aware edge to the Noxzema commercial montage that might be (really isn’t) Cher’s life as a rich Bev Hills teenager. Fun fact: Heckerling had wanted to open her classic directorial debut, Fast Times at Ridgemont High, with Wilde’s “Kids…” before opting instead for “We Got the Beat” by The Go-Go’s. And history almost repeated itself here as No Doubt’s soon-to-be juggernaut hit “Just a Girl” nearly became the film’s opening track. While Rachtman and others have lamented the missed chance to give Gwen Stefani’s sarcastic take on girlhood top billing and a spot on the soundtrack, Heckerling’s faith in The Muffs proved prescient. Cher’s character does offer a fascinating study when viewed through a feminist tint, but The Muff’s anthemic update on “Kids in America” provides the satirical rallying cry—rather than a protest—needed to draw viewers and listeners alike into a world that’s both nothing like our own, at least on the surface, and remarkably relatable.
Heckerling and Rachtman wanted to soundtrack Clueless with music that felt like Cher’s world regardless of where and when those songs actually came from. Their final haul makes for an unlikely wardrobe of recycled musical fashions. After The Muff’s opening salvo, Cracker’s take on the then-forgotten Flamin’ Groovies’ “Shake Some Action” dials us back to ‘76. Its glowing, opening “London Calling” stomp and David Lowery’s throatier vocals not only resurrect this brilliant, seminal bit of rock but also make the song fit to be Cher’s git-r-done theme throughout the movie. Counting Crows float in next with a live, acoustic version of Psychedelic Furs masterpiece “The Ghost in You,” stripping it of all its ‘80s production provenance and reintroducing the song to a new generation. “All the Young Dudes” might be Heckerling’s musical punchline as Cher critiques the fashion failures of her male classmates, but we totally swoon as Karl Wallinger’s World Party perfectly channels the best of both Mott the Hoople and Bowie. Rachtman has suggested that this unusual concoction of bands, eras, and styles lends Clueless a timeless quality, making it harder to pin down as just another ‘90s soundtrack. Even the album’s lead single, “Here,” by ‘90s alt-rockers Luscious Jackson, appears as a disco remix version, giving it a beat that Cher and friends would no doubt groove to. Possibly in purple clogs.
Apart from coloring Cher’s fab world, the soundtrack does some major character work. If “Shake Some Action” highlights Cher’s lovably naive determination, then The Lightning Seeds’ “Change,” which accompanies her amateur matchmaking, perfectly sums up the Emma type. “The world is full of fools/ Who never get it right,” points out singer Ian Broudie. “You don’t know what to do / So you do anything you like.” Of course, he then implores the girl in question to “Don’t ever change,” because we want to see Cher do better, not lose the spark that makes her unique. It’s hard to believe this perfect pop rock song wasn’t actually commissioned for Clueless and feels downright serendipitous that the Seeds put it out just a few months before filming began. Similarly, we know Cher’s unlikely Romeo, Paul Rudd’s Josh, has entered a scene anytime we hear Radiohead or Counting Crows, which Cher describes as “maudlin, crybaby music.” For most of the movie, Josh alone pokes holes in Cher’s self-absorbed machinations, making him the proverbial declined credit card in the endless mall shopping spree that is her life. Rachtman feared Radiohead might take the joke as a slight, but snaps to Thom Yorke and band for having a sense of humor. While “Fake Plastic Trees” routinely makes lists of the greatest songs of the ‘90s, Yorke’s distinct falsetto will forever remind some of Josh’s “granola breath.”
When Cher isn’t shopping or playing love connection, she’s usually making a strategic, well-dressed appearance at one function or another. That left Heckerling and Rachtman with the challenge of soundtracking multiple parties. A young Coolio’s “Rollin’ with My Homies,” which borrows the original lyrics from the rapper’s platinum hit “Fantastic Voyage,” gives the Val party a realistic bounce. Not only does the track lead to Tai getting concussed by a shoe (it happens), but it resurfaces as a trigger in the heartbroken aftermath of Cher’s plot to hook her awkward protégé up with Elton. And if you were looking for a band to play a college party (moved from a frat to a warehouse due to inclement weather), you couldn’t do much cooler in ‘95 than The Mighty Mighty Bosstones. Frontman Dickie Barrett recalled the band, then in tax trouble, took the gig to score some quick cash and proceeded to get increasingly drunk as a long shooting day dragged on. Still, as Cher attests, “The band was kickin’” (and not just because of their shared love of plaid), the horn-driven post-choruses of “Where’d You Go?” blaring the perfect dance-friendly remedy for Tai’s post-Elton blues.
Like all truly great soundtracks, several of the songs here absolutely make the iconic scenes in which they appear. In a moment cribbed right from the portrait scene in Emma, we can’t imagine Cher’s impromptu photo shoot without the California vibes of Supergrass’ international hit “Alright” baked into it. The song transforms Cher’s latest attempt to play Cupid into a full-blown, solar-powered Kodachrome commercial that makes her life seem simultaneously relatable and something from another sun-kissed planet. If there’s a song on repeat in Cher’s brain, this might be it. However, it’s Jill Sobule’s performance of the starry-eyed “Supermodel” during Tai’s makeover montage that best captures the youthful, female energy of Clueless. Originally, Rachtman thought to use David Bowie’s “Fashion” for the scene. Wisely, she hired songwriter David Baerwald to provide a song updated for Cher and her friends, a project inspired right out of the pages of teen magazine Sassy. Sobule, reluctant to record someone else’s song, eventually caved and lent her girlish voice to the adolescent rocker, curiously adding her own edge with a pledge to starve herself skinny. While those spoken lyrics haven’t aged particularly well, “Supermodel” remains the moment in Clueless where three friends bond and Heckerling makes it clear that all the young dudes—sorry, Josh, Murray, and Travis—are just along for the ride.
Clueless ends with wedding bells as many cinematic romances do, and Heckerling always knew she wanted Mr. Hall and Miss Geist to tie the knot to General Public’s “Tenderness.” Or at least toss the bridal bouquet to it. It’s a jangly, infectious selection that helped inform Rachtman early on regarding what direction to take the soundtrack. As for the following closing credits, the pummeling pining of “Need You Around” by Chicago’s Smoking Popes wasn’t the initial choice. Oasis’ “Whatever” from the Definitely Maybe sessions had been tapped to play audiences out of theaters; however, the boyos in the band were “totally buggin’” and pulled the plug when they were informed the song would only play over the credit scroll and not the actual wedding. In hindsight, like the No Doubt no-go, the movie and soundtrack likely turned out better in the long run. Heckerling got her poppy ‘80s wedding, and the Popes smoked the charts for the first and only time, forever linked to the Clueless universe.
As we look back on 30 years of Clueless and its dope soundtrack, we can’t help but feel a warm nostalgia for Cher’s (or is it Amy Heckerling’s?) Beverly Hills. It’s a bright, happy fantasyland where the popular girls are named after “famous singers of the past who now do infomercials,” Cranberries CDs are forever being left in the quad, and local loadies wax intellectual about The Rolling Stones and Nine Inch Nails. All the artists and bands who took part look back fondly on the project, either as an unexpected career highlight or a moment that gave them a chance to be invited to a party that doesn’t want to end. And why should it? As new generations discover the welcoming world of Cher, Dionne, and Tai, the rest of us are reminded that sometimes there’s nothing better than a calorie fest, kickin’ tunes, and dropping in on our favorite, utterly clueless Beverly Hills friends. And should anyone suggest it’s time to move on from Clueless, we could do far worse than shove them aside with an emphatic “As if!”
