It is a strange, shimmering relic of the eighties. You know the one. That animated movie with the spindly-legged unicorn, the bumbling magician, and a Red Bull that looked like it crawled out of a nightmare. But if you ask anyone what they actually remember about the 1982 cult classic The Last Unicorn, they don't usually start with the plot. They start humming. Specifically, they start humming those high, lonely notes from the band America.
Music makes or breaks a fantasy film. Honestly, without the specific melancholic vibe of the America The Last Unicorn songs, the movie might have just been another forgotten Rankin/Bass production. Instead, it’s a core memory for an entire generation.
Jimmy Webb, the songwriting legend behind hits like "MacArthur Park," wrote the music. He needed a specific sound—something folk-rock but ethereal. He chose America (Gerry Beckley and Dewey Bunnell). It was a weirdly perfect match. Their harmonies, which dominated the seventies airwaves with "A Horse with No Name," had this built-in desert loneliness that fit a story about the last of a species perfectly.
The Magic of the Title Track
The opening credits hit you like a wave. That flute-like synth, the soft acoustic strumming, and then the lyrics: "When the last eagle flies over the last crumbling mountain..." It’s not a happy song. It’s a song about extinction.
Most kids' movies today try to be upbeat. They want to sell toys. This movie wanted to make you contemplate the end of immortality. When America sings the title track, they aren't just performing a theme; they’re setting a somber, magical tone that tells the audience right away that this isn't The Care Bears.
There’s a specific texture to Gerry Beckley’s voice on this track. It feels fragile. When he sings about the "last moon" and the "last dragon," there’s a genuine sense of loss. It’s actually quite sophisticated for a "cartoon" soundtrack. It works because it doesn't talk down to the audience.
Why it resonated so deeply
Think about the context. 1982. The height of the synth-pop era was starting, yet here was this folk-rock duo bringing a medieval-adjacent fantasy to life. It felt timeless even when it was new. It wasn't trying to be "cool." It was trying to be beautiful.
Many fans point to the London Symphony Orchestra’s backing as the secret sauce. It’s lush. It’s huge. But at the center of that massive sound is just the two-part harmony of America. That contrast—the smallness of the human (well, unicorn) experience against the vastness of the world—is the heart of the film.
"Man’s Road" and the Journey of Schmendrick
If the title track is about the Unicorn, "Man’s Road" is about the human condition. It’s Dewey Bunnell’s time to shine here. It’s a road song, which is America’s bread and butter.
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"And I will follow my star... wherever it goes, and I'll find my way on man's road."
It captures that feeling of being lost. Schmendrick the Magician is a bit of a failure. He’s a wizard who can’t do real magic, just sleight of hand and cheap tricks. The song mirrors his internal struggle. It’s about the "narrow way" and the difficulty of finding your place in a world that doesn't believe in magic anymore.
Interestingly, Webb wrote these lyrics with a lot of poetic density. He used phrases like "the silver-tongued shadow" and "the edge of the day." It’s a far cry from the simplified "I want" songs you hear in modern Disney flicks. It’s philosophical. It asks: what does it mean to be human in a world that’s losing its wonder?
The Weirdness of "In the Sea"
Then there’s "In the Sea." This one is polarizing for some, but for others, it’s the peak of the America The Last Unicorn songs catalog. It’s the track that plays when we realize where all the unicorns have gone—trapped in the surf by the Red Bull.
The lyrics are hauntingly literal yet surreal:
- "Under the waves, over the seas"
- "Falling like rain, they are calling to me"
The production on this track is particularly "eighties." There’s a bit more reverb. A bit more punch in the drums. But again, America’s vocal blend keeps it grounded in that folk tradition. It creates this eerie, underwater atmosphere that perfectly matches the visuals of white manes tossing in the dark blue waves.
Most people don’t realize that the soundtrack wasn't actually released on CD in the United States for a long, long time. For years, fans had to hunt down German imports or old vinyl copies. It became a bit of an "if you know, you know" situation among collectors.
The Tragic Beauty of "That's All I've Got to Say"
We have to talk about the love song. "That's All I've Got to Say." This is arguably one of Jimmy Webb’s best compositions, and America delivers it with heartbreaking simplicity.
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In the film, Prince Lír is falling for Amalthea (the Unicorn in human form). He’s a hero, but he’s a simple man. He doesn't have grand speeches. The song is his confession.
"I’ve had my share of the world’s delight / I’ve had my share of the heavenly skies / And I’ve seen the stars as they hid from the light / Of the morning star in your eyes."
It’s romantic without being cheesy. It’s short. It doesn't overstay its welcome. In an era of power ballads, this was a quiet, acoustic moment that felt much more intimate. It’s the kind of song you’d hear at a wedding if the couple were both massive fantasy nerds with great taste in seventies soft rock.
The Production Side: Jimmy Webb and the London Symphony
Jimmy Webb is a genius. Period. He’s the guy who gave us "Wichita Lineman." When he sat down to score The Last Unicorn, he didn't just write some jingles. He wrote a cohesive musical suite.
He recorded the tracks in London. Working with the London Symphony Orchestra gave the America tracks a gravity they wouldn't have had otherwise. If it had just been a studio band, it might have sounded like a lost America album (which wouldn't have been bad, honestly), but the orchestral swell makes it cinematic.
The recording sessions were reportedly intense. Webb is known for being a perfectionist. America, on the other hand, had that laid-back California vibe. The tension between Webb’s complex arrangements and the band’s easy-going harmonies created something unique. It’s structured but feels organic.
Why the songs outlasted the animation
Let’s be real: the animation in The Last Unicorn is... unique. It’s gorgeous in parts and a bit clunky in others. But the music never falters. You can listen to the soundtrack today and it doesn't feel like a "kids' record."
It deals with:
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- Regret and aging (Molly Grue’s character arc)
- The price of immortality
- The loss of innocence
- The weight of destiny
These are heavy themes. The music carries that weight so the dialogue doesn't have to. When Molly Grue screams at the Unicorn, "Where have you been?" the music in the background tells you everything you need to know about her wasted years and her broken heart.
Where to Hear Them Now
If you’re looking to dive back into these tracks, you’re in luck. After decades of being hard to find, the soundtrack is widely available on streaming platforms.
However, there’s something special about the vinyl. The original 1982 pressing on Virgin Records (or Atlantic in some regions) has a warmth that digital files just can't catch. If you can find a copy at a thrift store or on Discogs, grab it. The cover art alone is worth it.
There have also been various "re-imaginings" over the years. Dan Avidan (of Ninja Sex Party and Starbomb) did a cover of "The Last Unicorn" that went viral a few years back. It’s a great tribute, but it also serves to show just how strong Webb’s original melody is. It works in any style, but it’s best with that America harmony.
The Legacy of the America Collaboration
It’s rare for a band to be so synonymous with a single film project outside of something like The Beatles or Prince. For many, America is the sound of fantasy.
The band continued to tour and release music, but they always acknowledge the "Unicorn" fans. They know that for a segment of their audience, those songs are more important than "Sister Golden Hair" or "Ventura Highway." They represent a moment in time when a weird, dark, beautiful animated movie used the power of folk-rock to talk about the soul.
Practical Insights for Fans and Collectors
If you're looking to appreciate this music on a deeper level, here is how to truly experience it:
- Watch the film first: You need the context of the Red Bull and the butterfly to understand why the music is so melancholy.
- Listen to the "No-Vocals" Score: If you can find the expanded soundtrack releases, Jimmy Webb’s instrumental cues are masterclasses in leitmotif.
- Compare to America's other work: Listen to the album View from the Ground (released the same year). You can hear the sonic similarities in how they were using synths and acoustic guitars at the time.
- Check out the 2010s Remasters: The audio quality on newer digital releases has been significantly cleaned up, removing some of the "muddiness" from the original 1980s tapes.
The music isn't just a soundtrack; it's the emotional spine of the story. It tells us that even if we are the last of our kind, and even if the world is changing into something unrecognizable, there is still beauty in the melody.
The best way to honor the legacy of these songs is to simply listen to them without distractions. Put on some decent headphones, close your eyes, and let the harmonies take you to the forest of the lilac trees. You might find that the magic hasn't faded at all.
To get the full experience, look for the 35th Anniversary soundtrack editions which often include liner notes from Jimmy Webb himself, detailing the grueling but rewarding process of bringing Peter S. Beagle's prose to life through song. These notes offer a rare glimpse into the technical hurdles of 1980s film scoring. Reading them while listening to the title track provides a perspective on the craftsmanship that usually goes unnoticed. Check your local independent record store for the high-quality vinyl reissues that have popped up over the last few years; they often feature restored artwork that looks much better than the blurry digital thumbnails on Spotify.