So why is the Reservoir Dogs soundtrack on this best 1,000 albums ever thing?
It was the fall of 1992, and I was a college freshman at Binghamton University in Binghamton, New York. I recall walking around campus and hearing about this movie called Reservoir Dogs, because “somehow” it was playing on campus – in what turned out to be a screening within a large lecture hall. I wound up paying $3 for the privilege.
There was something about the name of the movie that struck me as cool, weird, and mysterious. It still does. It’s hard to know what the truth is, but one version is that Quentin Tarantino just thought the title was cool, relating it to “dogs trapped in a reservoir tank fighting for attention.”
I’m also certain that I had no idea who Quentin Tarantino was or anything relating to what the movie was about. In 2024, it’s almost impossible to encounter this kind of situation, but back then I was set up to have my brain melted by one of the best ever films by one of the truly great auteurs of my generation.
If you’re a big fan of Reservoir Dogs, it’s very likely that you and I would at the very least be able to engage in a lengthy and lively pop culture conversation. Reservoir Dogs – soon to be followed by Pulp Fiction – helped to form a core part of my pop cultural DNA as a young man, along with Goodfellas, Swingers, Mike Myers/Chris Farley-era SNL, and a mishmash-y brew of classic rock, college rock, punk rock, ska, grunge, and hip hop.
Reservoir Dogs is a really dark and intense movie that surprisingly has very little action in it and is mostly super talky. In fact, it feels like an incredible stage play in many ways, and absolutely speaks to Tarantino’s genius in maximizing a limited budget ($1.2 million, according to a quick Google search). The performances – especially those by Harvey Keitel as Mr. White, Tim Roth as Mr. Orange, Steve Buscemi as Mr. Pink, and Chris Penn as Nice Guy Eddie – are iconic. And with all of that said, and super importantly, Reservoir Dogs is often hysterically funny.
And like all things in the Tarantino-verse, Reservoir Dogs is drenched in pop culture references and allusions, with its soundtrack forming an essential layer to the entire experience. And in a sly wrinkle, we hear many of the songs on the soundtrack by way of an in-movie radio station, K-Billy’s “Super Sounds of the ‘70s,” with legendary stand-up comic Stephen Wright playing the DJ.
Further, because Reservoir Dogs is Tarantino’s first feature-length film, its incredibly eclectic mix of musical gems – lovingly dusted off from decades sitting in the back of the record bins of our collective consciousness – hits all the more effectively and sweeter.
Therefore, when I saw Reservoir Dogs in late 1992, it was the first time I had ever heard the deeply funky and swinging “Little Green Bag,” by the George Baker Selection, or the wildly strange and ebullient “Hooked on a Feeling,” by Björn Skifs and Blue Swede, the ecstatic funk/soul of “I Gotcha,” by Joe Tex, or the sweet and jangly “Stuck in the Middle with You,” by Stealers Wheel.
Those songs are now fused with my enduring love of Reservoir Dogs, as are the audio clips on the soundtrack, such as Harvey Keitel’s incredible and hilarious segue – when discussing the finer points of the use of violence while committing armed robbery – in talking to Tim Roth’s Mr. Orange: “I’m hungry. Let’s get a taco.”
Some stats & info about the Reservoir Dogs soundtrack
- What kind of musical stylings does this album represent? Movie Soundtracks, Compilations, Rock Music, Soul Music, Funk
- Rolling Stone’s greatest 500 albums ranking – not ranked!
- All Music’s rating – 4.5 out of 5 stars
- When was the Reservoir Dogs soundtrack released? 1992
- My ranking, the one you’re reading right now – #123 out of 1,000
The Reservoir Dogs soundtrack on Spotify
A lyrical snippet from the Reservoir Dogs that’s evocative of the album in some way, maybe
Lookin’ back on the track for a little greenback. Got to find just the kind or I’m losin’ my mind.
What does the “best 1,000 albums ever” mean and why are you doing this?
Yeah, I know it’s audacious, a little crazy (okay, maybe a lot cray cray), bordering on criminal nerdery.
But here’s what it’s NOT: a definitive list of the Greatest Albums of All-Time. This is 100% my own personal super biased, incredibly subjective review of what my top 1,000 albums are, ranked in painstaking order over the course of doing research for nearly a year, Rob from High Fidelity style. Find out more about why I embarked on a best 1,000 albums ever project.