If you’ve watched Donald Glover’s surrealist masterpiece, you know the music isn't just background noise. It’s a character. Honestly, the Atlanta TV series soundtrack functions more like a curated diary of a city’s soul than a standard list of licensed tracks. Most shows use music to tell you how to feel—a swelling violin for sadness, a heavy bass for a chase. Atlanta doesn't do that. It uses a mix of Gucci Mane, Tame Impala, and obscure 1970s soul to keep you slightly off-balance, reflecting the weirdness of Earn, Paper Boi, and Darius's lives.
It’s about the vibe.
Donald Glover and his brother Stephen, along with music supervisor Jen Malone, created a sonic landscape that defied every rule of prestige TV. You’d have a scene featuring a brutal philosophical debate followed immediately by a Migos track. It felt jarring because life in Atlanta—and life for these characters—is jarring.
The weird brilliance of the Atlanta TV series soundtrack
The show's music identity started with a bang. Or rather, a trap beat.
In the pilot, we hear "No Hook" by OJ Da Juiceman. It wasn't some polished radio hit meant to appeal to a broad demographic. It was hyper-local. That’s the secret sauce. The Atlanta TV series soundtrack never tried to be "cool" in a corporate way. It was authentic to the point of being exclusionary to outsiders, which is exactly why it resonated so deeply. If you didn't know the song, you felt like you were eavesdropping on a world that didn't care if you understood it.
Think about the "B.A.N." episode. It’s a satirical take on a Charlie Rose-style talk show. The music during the fake commercials—like the "Coconut Crunch-Os" bit—is so spot-on that it hurts. It captures the cheap, synthesized feel of 90s cereal ads while simultaneously nodding to the underlying social commentary of the episode.
Jen Malone, who also worked on Euphoria, has talked about how the process for Atlanta was incredibly collaborative. It wasn't just about what was "hot." Often, it was about what felt right for a specific, weird moment. Like when "New Patek" by Lil Uzi Vert hits. It’s not just a song; it’s a status symbol for the characters in that moment.
📖 Related: Wrong Address: Why This Nigerian Drama Is Still Sparking Conversations
The songs you forgot but can't stop thinking about
One of the most haunting uses of music in the series comes in the "Teddy Perkins" episode. There isn't a traditional "soundtrack" here in the sense of a playlist. Instead, we get Stevie Wonder’s "Evil."
It is terrifying.
The way the song plays over the closing credits, after one of the most stressful half-hours of television ever produced, is a masterclass in tone. It’s soulful but deeply unsettling. It forces the viewer to sit in the discomfort. Most shows would have used a generic horror score. Atlanta used a legend to highlight a tragedy.
Then you have the European odyssey in the later seasons. The music shifted. We started hearing more eclectic, international sounds, reflecting the displacement the characters felt. In "Three Slaps," the show utilized "Stay High" by Brittany Howard. It felt hopeful but grounded in a sort of weary reality. That’s the range we’re talking about. You go from the hard-hitting trap of 21 Savage to the ethereal psych-pop of Beach House.
How the music handled the surrealism
Surrealism is hard to pull off. If the music is too weird, the audience checks out. If it’s too normal, the "magic" disappears.
The Atlanta TV series soundtrack mastered this by using familiar songs in unfamiliar ways. Take "It’s Christmas Time in Georgia" by James Brown. Using a soulful, celebratory track during a moment of profound loneliness or absurdity creates a cognitive dissonance that defines the show’s "Afro-Surrealist" tag.
👉 See also: Who was the voice of Yoda? The real story behind the Jedi Master
Atlanta also leaned heavily into the "Paper Boi" phenomenon. Brian Tyree Henry’s character is a rapper, but we rarely hear his music in full. The song "Paper Boi" itself—actually recorded by Stephen Glover—is a perfect parody of a 2016-era Atlanta hit. It’s catchy enough to be real but just slightly "off" enough to serve as a critique of the industry. The fact that the show created its own music to supplement the licensed tracks shows a level of dedication most productions won't touch.
Why licensing these songs was a nightmare (but worth it)
Music licensing is usually a boring corporate process. For Atlanta, it was a puzzle. Because the show used so many regional hits and older soul tracks, the paperwork was a mess. Jen Malone has mentioned in interviews that tracking down the rights for some of the more obscure "oldies" played in the background of diners or houses was a Herculean task.
But that’s why it works.
When you hear a song like "Marijuana" by Shuggie Otis, it tells you something about the environment. It tells you the people in this world have taste. They have a history. It’s not just a Spotify Top 50 playlist slapped onto a video.
- The "Local" Factor: Using artists like Bankroll Fresh or Young Thug before they were global icons (or right as they were peaking) gave the show street cred.
- The Contrast: Mixing Bill Withers with Crime Mob. It shouldn't work. It does.
- The Silence: Some of the best musical moments in Atlanta are the silences. The show knows when to shut up and let the ambient noise of the city take over.
The "FUBU" episode is another great example. The music takes us back to the 90s without being "member-berries" nostalgic. It uses tracks that actually played in middle schools in Georgia, not just the big hits everyone remembers. It feels lived-in.
What you should take away from the Atlanta sound
If you're trying to build a playlist based on the show, you're going to end up with a very confused algorithm. And that’s a good thing. The Atlanta TV series soundtrack teaches us that consistency is overrated. What matters is emotional honesty.
✨ Don't miss: Not the Nine O'Clock News: Why the Satirical Giant Still Matters
The show ended, but its influence on how TV handles music is massive. You can see the DNA of Atlanta’s music cues in shows like The Bear or Reservation Dogs. It’s about being specific. If a character is from a certain neighborhood, they shouldn't just listen to "Hip Hop." They should listen to the specific sub-genre of Hip Hop that would be playing on the radio in that specific zip code at 3:00 PM on a Tuesday.
It’s that level of detail that makes the music iconic.
Whether it’s the smooth soul of The Delfonics or the aggressive energy of ScHoolboy Q, the music serves the story, never the other way around. It’s a reminder that television can be a visual and auditory art form simultaneously, without one sacrificing the other.
Next Steps for the Ultimate Listen
To truly appreciate the curation, you need to look beyond the "official" playlists. Start by digging into the Season 1 and 2 soundtracks on platforms like Spotify or Tidal, specifically looking for user-generated playlists that include the transition snippets.
Next, pay attention to the "invisible" music: the songs playing faintly in the background of the barbershop or the club scenes. Many of these are uncredited but are available via Shazaming the episodes. Finally, explore the discography of Stephen Glover and Ludwig Göransson (the show's composer), as their original scores provide the connective tissue between the licensed tracks. Don't just listen to the hits; listen to the 1970s funk tracks that the show used to bridge the gap between reality and the "Atlanta" dream state.