Film writer Wayne Byrne: "The use of The Doors in Apocalypse Now is iconic"

One of the foremost film writers currently at work, prolific Naas author Wayne Byrne has penned a hugely acclaimed series of books, including tomes on Walter Hill and Burt Reynolds, and the Nightmare On Elm Street and Halloween franchises. Having previously authored the book, Hired Guns: Portraits Of Women In Alternative Music, with the Psychedelic Furs' Amanda Kramer, the duo have again linked up to assemble The Evolution Of American Film Music, 1960s-1990s.

Brilliantly engrossing, the book tracks the development of soundtracks from the late '60s through the more rock and pop oriented New Hollywood, onto the glossy, synth-drive collections of the '80s and the indie boom of the '90s. Along the way there also fascinating portraits of key director-composer relationships, such as that between the late David Lynch and his long-time collaborator Angelo Badalamenti.

Always a fantastic interviewee, Byrne was in typically engaging and insightful form when I recently caught up with him for a chat about his latest release.

PAUL NOLAN: I've said this to you before, but I sometimes struggle to connect with films pre-New Hollywood, because they seem to have such a remote sensibility, almost like museum pieces. For me, when Coppola, Scorsese and the rest arrive and start using rock and pop, it's like the movies burst into technicolour and take on a much more modern feel.

WAYNE BYRNE: At the time, the traditional audience for cinema was staying home with TV, which was still a novelty and relatively new. So the New Hollywood had to come in and kind of save the film industry – it was the youth audience who saved it. And of course, that audience were drawn to the music of the day. So that's when you start to get the likes of Simon & Garfunkel doing music for The Gradutate, and then you have the soundtrack for Easy Rider – that blew the whole door open.

After that, you have Pat Garrett And Billy The Kid with a Bob Dylan soundtrack, McCabe & Mrs Miller has Leonard Cohen. So you can see why younger audiences were more interested in films of the New Hollywood era – the counterculture changed everything.

Blaxploitation films were also hugely important.

Of course, you had the great Curtis Mayfield soundtrack for Superfly. He's doing Shaft, and you have Marvin Gaye doing Trouble Man.

James Brown did a few as well.

Yes, like Black Caesar. In some cases with the blaxploitation movement, the albums were nearly more successful or amous than the movies, with the exception of maybe Shaft or Superfly, which were are both classic movies. But it was essentially it was a b-movie genre, ushered in by Melvin van Peebles' Sweet Sweetback's Badasssss Song. That and some of the other films actually offer decent social commentary, they're serious movies, but most of them were b-movie crime genre stuff. Nonetheless, the were very influential and very much part of the shift in the cross-promotional aspect of music and cinema.

Coppola's use of The Doors in Apocalypse Now strikes me as an absolutely crucial moment in the use of rock in cinema.

Oh absolutely, yeah. I mean, that opening scene is just absolutely iconic, and it's a wonderful use of a pre-existing song that almost acts as score, in a way. It's not your typical use of a pre-existing rock song. It's perfect, because it coming out of the era it did – the counterculture era, the hippie movement, and all of that – it has that kind of exotic flavor. Coppola uses The Doors, who perfectly suit this almost bad trip of a movie.

They're absolutely ideal for that, and also, there's a nice tie-in to the commercial side of using a band like The Doors. Obviously, that kind of approach became king in the '80s.

One of the key directors in the 80s was John Hughes, who directed the likes of Ferris Bueller's Day Off and Pretty In Pink, and had a brilliant feel for music.

We talked to Tarquin Gotch, who was John Hughes' music supervisor. He was probably the most high-profile or successful of those music supervisors in the '80s, because with the John Hughes films, those soundtracks were treated like albums. Tarquin and John came up with this idea of creating a kind of sub-label. John Hughes was a big music fan, especially of British music, rock and new wave. He discussed the idea with Tarquin of those soundtracks – even though they're using needle drop pop and rock songs – having a certain sound and cohesion.

The reason John loved Tarquin originally was that he came from the A&R world – he was a tour manager who'd worked with the likes of the Thompson Twins, Lloyd Cole, Stephen Duffy and and I think XTC. He brought something unique to the situation, which was he could get access to remixes, demo versions and instrumental versions. So that's why in Planes, Trains And Automobiles, you have instrumental versions of tracks by The Dream Academy and Book Of Love.

Those are otherwise three-minute pop songs, but they strip the vocal and drums, and leave the basic synth and bass tracks as score. Of course, The Beatles were not found of licensing their songs. But John Hughes was a big name at that point, and he was known for these successful soundtracks. There was much back and forth with the people who control the Beatles stuff, but eventually they got it, because Paramount kept upping the money. They eventually got it, after them all saying no originally, the Beatles guys who were left.

Then the film was released, and you have your scene with Matthew Broderick miming to 'Twist And Shout', but what do they do? They put horns in on the track, which were never there, so that pissed off Paul McCartney quite a bit.

Did you touch on one of our mutual '80s favourites, Beverly Hills Cop?

Not specifically, but Harold Faltermeyer did come up. If anything, he came up in interviewswe had with people, because they would often reference him as having such a distinctive sound, which was so tied to that era. In a way, it's dated and there's no way of modernising it, you know what I mean? I guess there's a lot of '80s-influenced stuff that's come into pop culture over the last 10 years, but that sound is so specific to 1984 that it's hard to get over that element. Some people spoke almost disparagingly towards it, because again, it's the idea of someone coming in with technology.

The synths came up with these very simple, catchy lines that became huge. In a way, it kind of undermines those conservatory-trained, classically-minded composers, who feel they're the real musicians – that kind of vibe. So people would reference, you know, musicians like Harold Faltermeyer coming in with this catch thing, and that becomes in vogue.

You also explore the collaboration between David Lynch and Angelo Badalamenti.

You also have Julee Cruise as part of that triumvirate. We spoke to their A&R man, who gave us a real insight, and Amanda was really good friends with Julee Cruise. She played with her on and off for years, and they've collaborated on albums. Amanda actually had some first-hand experience of being around Lynch – she was actually there for the taping of Industrial Symphony No. 1, which was this avant-garde concert movie they did, released it in 1990.

I loved Angelo from my earliest film-watching days, because he scored Nightmare on Elm Street 3. I loved that soundtrack, which was really haunting and quite an emotional soundtrack for a horror movie. Then you get into Lynch and Blue Velvet, and there's a whole chapter on that film in the book – Lynch and Badalamenti is one of those crucial director-composer collaborations. There were fruitful ones, good ones, and then ones that were kind of prolific, but broke down. Like, for example, Mark Mothersbaugh and Wes Anderson.

I spoke with Mark quite extensively. He was really could and gave a really interesting take on it all. Because he's gone from this alternative new wave band, Devo, to then doing Pee-Wee's Playhouse, and eventually these indie movies in the late '80s and early '90s. Then he went into his career with Wes Anderson, and that kind of broke down a bit, because when it came to doing Fantastic Mr. Fox, Anderson wanted Mark. But Mark was, at that point, going to another country. He was adopting a child.

So he wasn't available, basically, to go to France to do Fantastic Mr. Fox. That's where Anderson hires the guy who I think has done a few of his films since, and Mothersbaugh hasn't heard from since. You know, he doesn't know if Wes Anderson took it defensively, or something like that, that he wouldn't do it. But Mark was otherwise engaged with some family business.

But the Lynch-Badalamenti dynamic held a particular interest for you.

Delving into the Lynch-Badalamenti thing was fascinating for me, because I just think they are one of the great director-composer relationships of all time. From Blue Velvet onwards, that's them, and we got some really great insights on the relationship between Julee, David and Angelo. It's unfortunate Julee and David didn't have a great relationship later on.

It's a long story, but in the book, we learned that Julie was a bit of a creation of Lynch's, in a way. She was almost a character, a persona that he created for Twin Peaks – that voice and sound that Angelo incorporated. And there were several times throughout that relationship where Julie was trying to go off into her own career. But she was kind of tied in contractually with Lynch for certain projects and albums, and he wasn't really allowing her freedom to go and develop as an artist.

So we got a great insight into into those three guys. From the outside, you think it's a match made in heaven, these three people. But then you get into the ins and outs of that relationship, and it's kind of sad, in a way – because they just created absolute magic.

The Evolution Of American Film Music, 1960s-1990s is published on April 12.