Frank Oz didn’t just make a movie about a plant that eats people. He basically captured lightning in a bottle, and a huge chunk of that lightning is the little shop of horrors film soundtrack. Most movie musicals feel like they’re trying too hard to be "important" or "cinematic," but this 1986 score? It’s just raw, soulful, and weirdly greasy in the best way possible. It’s got that 1960s doo-wop grit mixed with Alan Menken’s early genius. You can feel the sweat of Skid Row in every note.
Honestly, the transition from the off-Broadway stage to the silver screen usually kills the vibe of a show. Producers get nervous. They try to make things bigger, shinier, and somehow more sterile. But with Little Shop, the music actually got meaner. It got heavier. When Miles Goodman and Alan Menken teamed up to adapt the stage score for the film, they didn't just copy-paste the songs. They built a sonic world that felt lived-in.
The Menken and Ashman Secret Sauce
Before The Little Mermaid or Beauty and the Beast turned Disney into a global powerhouse, Howard Ashman and Alan Menken were the kings of the Off-Broadway scene. They were hungry. That hunger is all over the little shop of horrors film soundtrack. You can hear it in the opening "Prologue (Little Shop of Horrors)." Those three girls—Chiffon, Crystal, and Ronette—act as a Greek chorus, but they aren’t singing operatic fluff. They’re singing tight, Motown-inspired harmonies that tell you exactly what kind of B-movie nightmare you’ve walked into.
It’s about the storytelling. Ashman was a master of the "I Want" song, but "Somewhere That’s Green" isn't about wanting a prince or a kingdom. It’s about wanting a toaster and a plastic-covered sofa in the suburbs. It’s heartbreaking. Ellen Greene’s vocal performance is legendary for a reason. She breathes, whispers, and then belts with a vulnerability that most singers can't touch.
Why the instrumentation matters more than you think
Listen to the basslines. Seriously. The film soundtrack has this thick, analog warmth. In the mid-80s, everyone was obsessed with synthesizers and DX7 sounds. While there is some of that "80s sheen" in the production, the core of the music is deeply rooted in R&B. The drums are punchy. The horns in "Feed Me (Git It!)" are aggressive. Levi Stubbs, the lead singer of the Four Tops, voiced Audrey II, and his casting was a masterstroke. He brought a genuine Detroit soul pedigree to a puppet. It changed the entire dynamic of the film.
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The Controversial Lost Ending and "Don't Feed the Plants"
One of the weirdest things about the little shop of horrors film soundtrack history is the ending. If you’ve only seen the theatrical version, you know the happy ending where Seymour and Audrey skip off to the suburbs. But that’s not how it was supposed to go. The original "Director’s Cut" ending features a massive, apocalyptic number called "Don’t Feed the Plants."
In this version, the plants win. They eat the protagonists and then take over the world, King Kong style. For decades, fans only had the audio of this final track or grainy black-and-white dailies. The song itself is a masterpiece of escalation. It starts as a warning and turns into a full-blown wall of sound. It’s loud, it’s chaotic, and it’s terrifyingly catchy. The fact that it was cut because test audiences hated seeing the main characters die is one of cinema's great tragedies, though the song remains a highlight of the soundtrack.
The "Mean Green Mother" factor
You can't talk about the film without mentioning the song that wasn't in the stage show: "Mean Green Mother from Outer Space." This was written specifically for the movie to satisfy the Academy Awards' "Original Song" requirement. Most of the time, these "movie-only" additions feel tacked on. They usually suck. This one didn't.
- It’s a high-energy R&B showstopper.
- Levi Stubbs goes absolutely off the rails with the vocals.
- It utilizes the full power of a film orchestra mixed with a rock band.
- It earned an Oscar nomination—the first for a film with a "profane" title in the song credits, depending on who you ask at the Academy.
Why "Grow for Me" is a masterclass in character writing
Seymour is a loser. He’s a well-meaning, clumsy, desperate loser. Rick Moranis plays him with such earnestness that you almost forget he’s committing multiple murders. The song "Grow for Me" is the pivot point. It’s a patter song, essentially. It’s fast-paced, neurotic, and rhythmic.
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The way Moranis sings it is fascinating. He isn't a "Broadway singer" in the traditional sense, and that’s why it works. His voice has a slight reediness. It sounds like a guy who spends too much time in a basement talking to plants. When the music swells as he discovers the plant likes blood, the shift from "sweet gardener" to "desperate conspirator" happens entirely through the arrangement.
The Dentist: Steve Martin’s sonic chaos
Then there’s "Dentist!" This song is a weird outlier. It’s a 1950s rock-and-roll pastiche that sounds like something Elvis would have sung if he were a high-functioning sociopath. Steve Martin’s performance is iconic, but the backing vocals are the real MVP here. The "D-D-D-Dentist!" stabs are sharp and perfectly timed. It provides a necessary jolt of energy to the middle of the film, breaking up the romantic tension between Seymour and Audrey.
The lasting legacy of the Skid Row sound
Skid Row (Downtown) is arguably the best opening number in musical history. I’ll stand by that. It sets the stakes immediately. "Uptown you cater to a million fools / Uptown you're breaking all the lucky rules." It’s social commentary disguised as a catchy tune.
The little shop of horrors film soundtrack succeeds because it respects its influences. It’s not a parody of 60s music; it’s a love letter to it. It uses those structures to tell a story that is surprisingly dark. Greed, abuse, poverty, and the literal consumption of the working class. It’s all there, buried under these incredible melodies.
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People still cover these songs today. You’ll hear "Suddenly, Seymour" at every karaoke bar and high school theater competition in the country. But nothing quite matches the original film recordings. The mix of the 1986 production—that specific blend of live instruments and studio magic—is impossible to replicate.
What most people get wrong about the recording
There’s a common misconception that the soundtrack is just a recording of the movie audio. It’s not. The soundtrack album often features slightly different mixes or takes than what you hear in the final film edit. If you listen closely to the vinyl or the high-res digital remasters, you can hear the layering of the backing vocals more clearly. The "echo" on Audrey’s voice in "Somewhere That's Green" is much more pronounced on the album version, giving it a dreamier, more isolated feel.
How to experience the soundtrack today
If you’re a purist, you need to track down the 1986 Geffen Records release. While digital streaming is convenient, the original vinyl has a warmth that suits the 1960s setting perfectly.
- Listen for the "Don't Feed the Plants" finale. If your version ends with a reprise of "Suddenly, Seymour," you're missing the true vision of the creators.
- Pay attention to the orchestrations. Notice how the "Audrey II" theme evolves from a simple R&B beat to a complex, menacing orchestral arrangement by the end.
- Compare the film tracks to the 1982 Off-Broadway cast recording. You'll notice the film is much "bigger" and more aggressive, while the stage version is more intimate and vaudevillian.
The little shop of horrors film soundtrack isn't just a collection of songs. It’s a cohesive narrative journey that takes you from a gritty street corner to the end of the world. It’s funny, it’s heartbreaking, and it’s undeniably catchy. Whether you’re a theater nerd or just someone who appreciates a damn good bassline, this soundtrack remains a gold standard for how to adapt a musical for the screen without losing its soul.
Next Steps for the Ultimate Listener:
- Audit the Director’s Cut: Watch the restored 2012 version of the film to see how the "Don't Feed the Plants" finale changes your perception of the entire score.
- Trace the Influences: Listen to 1960s girl groups like The Ronettes and The Chiffons—who the lead backup singers are named after—to hear the direct DNA of the soundtrack.
- Analyze the Lyrics: Look closely at Howard Ashman's wordplay in "The Meek Shall Inherit." It’s a masterclass in internal rhyming and character development that is often overlooked in favor of the flashier numbers.