In the lead-up to the release of the live-action The Little Mermaid, Consequence will be looking back at the Disney Renaissance and how it shaped our culture. This time, we’re updating our ranked list of every Disney song ever — this feature originally ran in November 2016, and it has been updated to include animated Disney releases since that time, up to 2022’s Strange World.
Things make a real, lasting mark on your brain when you’re a kid. That encompasses the fears, loves, insecurities, dreams, and other things one will likely describe to a therapist as an adult, but other things stick, too. Songs, especially. The impulse children have to press “play” over and over and over again can leave all kinds of wonderful and sometimes useless things stuck in your head.
It’s part of why creating entertainment for children can be so meaningful, because with some talent and skill, it’s possible to give a young person a song they’ll carry with them for decade after decade. Well after they’ve stopped thinking about the works of A.A. Milne as anything but some stories they liked when they were young, one can hear the phrase “Deep in the Hundred Acre Wood” and know immediately what comes next, and what comes after that. That stuff lingers. It lasts. It matters.
That’s all a big part of why, for reasons beyond its massive size and reach and bank accounts, Disney matters. That’s not to diminish the very real cultural significance of the films in the Disney animated canon (that’s films released by Walt Disney Feature Animation, beginning with Snow White in 1937), many of which can (and do) appeal to adults as well as children. Beauty and the Beast is a stunning achievement in filmmaking, no matter the audience demographic.
But because so many of us were introduced to many of their films at a young age, those movies, and the songs they contain, have the potential to stay with a person for a lifetime. The relationship one has to those songs and movies may change — spoiler: not all of them have aged well — but they’re far from easily forgotten.
Why dig into this catalog? Well, because lists are fun, of course. But it’s also worthwhile to take a spin on the carousel and head back in time, revisiting characters and melodies first encountered at a young age. It’s valuable to then, while your mind remembers what it’s like to love something so unabashedly, explore some other stories and songs you missed.
Beyond all that stuff, Disney also makes some damn good songs, and great music is never a waste of time. Disney has employed some legendary composers and lyricists, from the powerhouse team of Alan Menken and Howard Ashman, to the Sherman Brothers, who wrote many, many songs that millions of people know by heart. It can’t be said that every single film has at least one musical gem, if only because a few have no songs at all. But most of them do. Remember Home on the Range? Neither did we. That thing’s got a few great, little tunes hidden away.
It’s also important to explore the stuff that helped to shape us as people, and our society as a whole. There’s some really racist shit in this list — some of those songs are still great songs; some are the kind of garbage it’s easy to dismiss. There are a lot of really restrictive ideas about gender — do you have any idea how many songs in the Disney catalog romanticize housework? — and some extremely unrealistic depictions of love and romance (again, see your therapist).
But there are also songs that inspire, challenge, and provoke thought. On reflection, that one scary song from Beauty and the Beast isn’t just scary, but illustrates the danger of a mob mentality and was written by a man dying of AIDS just as the ‘80s were being ushered out the door. Yes, it’s frightening, and it serves the plot. But it does more, because art can be both things. To a child, one story. To an adult, perhaps many stories in one. One thing’s for sure: There may be 55 films, but the stories are countless.
So here they are, all the songs in the Disney animated canon, from Aladdin to Zootopia. If Disney transformed a song in any way, from giving an old melody new lyrics (The Lion King’s “The Hula Song”) to creating a whole new work, it’s included. Here’s hoping there’s at least one new gem waiting for you in here or one priceless tune you didn’t even realize you remembered. It’s OK to sing along. No one’s watching. Just follow the bouncing ball.
— Allison Shoemaker
295. “Kanine Krunchies,” 101 Dalmatians (1961)
I’m sorry. I don’t believe any dog would be into this. Hey, also, do you have any enemies? Here’s a 10-hour loop of this song. — A. Shoemaker
294. “What Made the Red Man Red,” Peter Pan (1953)
So, to be clear, this song isn’t second-to-last on our list, beating only the worst fake commercial jingle in history, merely because it’s super-duper racist. It’s also trite, repetitive, boring, utterly predictable, and not even any fun. The animation is among the least interesting sequences in Peter Pan, the jokes fall flat — John smokes and then turns green! Hilarious! — and it’s difficult to even catch what’s being said most of the time. Flop on all counts. But yeah, this song is racist as hell. There’s also a side of misogyny, just for kicks. “Squaw gettum firewood!” For fuck’s sake. — A. Shoemaker
293. “The Siamese Cat Song,” Lady and the Tramp (1955)
Aunt Sarah’s twin cats are jerks. The Lady and the Tramp’s poorest-aged sequence sees poor Lady being framed for household destruction, as the two cats croon their way through chaos. Peggy Lee, as both cats, does her best, but between the instrumentation and the deeply, deeply unfortunate Asian accent the cats adopt, “The Siamese Cat Song” is just one of those Disney songs that doesn’t play as well with time no longer on its side. — Dominick Suzanne-Mayer
292. “Where the Dream Takes You,” Atlantis: The Lost Empire (2001)
Mya’s “Where the Dream Takes You” is the one major single from Atlantis: The Lost Empire, one of those Disney movies that makes audiences the world over say, “Oh, shit, that, was a movie that came out once.” It’s an addendum every bit as forgettable (if competently made) as the film in which it appears. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
291. “Bug Hunt,” Wreck-It Ralph (2012)
Yes, former From First to Last frontman Sonny Moore also has a Disney credit. Skrillex isn’t bad at what he does, the wide-ranging contempt for the musical trend he helped usher in notwithstanding, but “Bug Hunt” is hardly one of his more interesting or complex works. It’s loud, addled with ADHD, and works best in context of the film as background noise to a more engaging sequence. But for the parents who probably had to hear this thing for weeks a few years ago, the assessments might not be as charitable. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
290. “My Funny Friend and Me,” The Emperor’s New Groove (2000)
Sting’s fared better with Disney in the past, when the white man supergroup of he, Rod Stewart, and Bryan Adams put on one of the most melodramatic videos a Disney tie-in has ever had. Here, however, he offers up a gently ambient slow jam that doesn’t even fit the tone of the film in which it appears and was somehow up for Best Original Song at the Oscars despite this. Funny how a lot of the worst songs on the list exist as the result of Disney attempting to reach out to the masses instead of doing what they do best. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
289. “Say It with a Slap,” Fun & Fancy Free (1947)
Do bears actually slap each other as a part of their mating rituals? Seriously, do they? The internet has failed to turn up answers. Regardless, this song sucks. Sorry, “Bongo,” but if I want to listen to a troubling song about slapping as a part of a mating ritual that may or may not result in sexual coercion, I’ll just dial up “He Hit Me (And It Felt Like a Kiss).” — A. Shoemaker
288. “Little Wonders,” Meet the Robinsons (2007)
As singles from soundtracks go, “Little Wonders” isn’t one of the more distinctive among them. Delivered by storied Santana collaborator Rob Thomas over a simplistic post-alternative track, it’s full of the kind of Disney-ready platitudes that you’d expect out of a pop tie-in, but not necessarily from Danny Elfman, who penned the song. We all gotta get paid sometimes, one supposes. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
287. “A Huntin’ Man,” The Fox and the Hound (1981)
In 19 seconds, “A Huntin’ Man” manages to work in a shitty stereotype and two sentences that make absolutely no sense. — A. Shoemaker
286. “Johnny Appleseed,” Melody Time (1948)
Here’s Disney at its most on-the-nose evangelical. Taken from the Melody Time short, “Johnny Appleseed” is all about thanking the Lord for His many blessings in the most Little House on the Prairie manner imaginable. As Johnny croons “The Lord is good to me/ and so I thank the Lord” to a chirping bird, we won’t judge you if your eyes roll right out of your head. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
285. “When Can I See You Again?,” Wreck-It Ralph (2012)
More from Wreck-It Ralph, with this song … Wait. Cloying frayed-synth big-room EDM sounds? Twinkly glockenspiel that screams “pandering and childlike”? Lyrics so generic that they appear to have been assembled by a word processor gone awry with self-actualization mantras? A general sense of annoying homogeneity? Yep, it’s Owl City. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
284. “Welcome,” Brother Bear (2003)
“Welcome to our family time/ Welcome to our happy-to-be time/ This is a festival/ You know and best of all/ We’re here to share it all.” Phil Collins has many defenders (several Consequence of Sound writers among them), but this schlock is pretty much indefensible. Also, remember Brother Bear? No? Yeah, neither do we. — A. Shoemaker
283. “Anytime You Need a Friend,” Home on the Range (2004)
To be clear, there are actually two versions of “Anytime You Need a Friend”, and Alan Menken’s original composition would probably land a little higher. But this ranking concerns songs as they existed in theatrical release, and the Beu Sisters’ arena-country version (with record scratches, for some reason) that plays during Home on the Range’s end credits is a bit of disposable hokum. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
282. “The Future of Friendship/New Friends Song,” Ron’s Gone Wrong (2021)
Glass Animals’ Dave Bayley performs the vocals for this pop number, which is ostensibly about making new friends, but is really about your parents buying you a fancy new B-bot (the new robot toy at the center of this film). It’s not quite a jingle, and not enough of an earworm to stand out as a great pop song — like the movie in which it’s featured, it’s easy to forget it ever happened. — Liz Shannon Miller
281. “Skumps (Drinking Song),” Sleeping Beauty (1959)
“Skumps (Drinking Song)” isn’t one of Sleeping Beauty’s better musical performances. Essentially, it’s a quick drinking ballad and not even a memorable one considering that half of it is just a pair of kings talking about how it’s good to be kings and raising glasses to an eventual union of families. The other half is the word “Skumps.” There’s just not a lot to it. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
280. “A Most Befuddling Thing,” The Sword in the Stone (1963)
So Merlin’s views on romance are pretty messed up. Yes, the girl in question is a squirrel, and so is basically just acting as nature demands, but they made her look pretty human (as most Disney animals do), so it’s OK to be a little discombobulated by lyrics like “You’re wasting time resisting/ You’ll find the more you do/ The more she’ll keep insisting/ Her him has got to be you.” Oh, sorry, did I say discombobulated? Should have said discomBOOBulated. That’s what I meant. — A. Shoemaker
279. “Lack of Education,” The Fox and the Hound (1981)
The message of this jazzy, little Pearl Bailey number is basically as follows: “Hey, kid, someday you’re gonna get shot and taxidermied, and it’ll be your own fault, because you were stupid enough to be friends with a dog.” — A. Shoemaker
278. “The Clown Song,” Dumbo (1941)
“The Clown Song” ranks low for three chief reasons: 1) It’s barely a minute long; 2) It’s just a forgettable accordion jam, in which clowns briefly sing about demanding a raise; 3) Clowns are horrifying. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
277. “Tomorrow Is Another Day,” The Rescuers (1977)
You’ll find some serious nostalgia for The Rescuers in some circles, but this music-minded list won’t be one of them, as the film’s music definitely isn’t one of its stronger points. “Tomorrow Is Another Day” is of a kind of wispy balladry that the lesser Disney songbooks tend to fall into at times, to the point where it winds up in Anne Murray territory. No disrespect to the Canadian songstress; it’s just the least interesting kind of Disney ballad. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
276. “Casey at the Bat,” Make Mine Music (1946)
Come on now. You get to set “Casey at the Bat” to music, and this is what you do? Worse yet, the only stuff added to the poem is all about how women don’t know a damn thing about baseball, but they all show up to the games because Casey is so handsome. So, like, it’s their fault that there is no joy in Mudville? Nope. Shut it down. — A. Shoemaker
275. “Fun and Fancy Free”/Reprise, Fun and Fancy Free (1947)
It’s easy to laugh at the generally cornball nature of some of the oldest-fashioned Disney songs on this list, but good lord, the titular theme song “Fun & Fancy Free” is so sugary it might rot your teeth out of your head. Also, just tossing this out there: “If you should have a chronic ache/ pills won’t make you strong/ the only tonic you should take/ is a teaspoonful of song” is pretty horrible medical advice. Consider Fun & Fancy Free the Patch Adams of its time. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
274. “Higitus Figitus,” The Sword in the Stone (1963)
I grew up with “Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo”. I sang along with “Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo”. “Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo” was a friend of mine. You, sir, are no “Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo”. — A. Shoemaker
273. “Katrina,” The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad (1949)
“Katrina” might well be the cutest, most well-arranged Bing Crosby song about slut shaming ever recorded. That’s meant with tongue planted in cheek for the most part (cool it, commenters), but it’s slight to say the least, and the entire point of the song can be found near the end: “But Katrina will kiss and run /to her a romance is fun/ with always another one to start.” It’s like the “Hotline Bling” of Disney songs, in that it sounds like Katrina’s already having a fine time on her own. Ain’t like Bing was a saint, anyhow. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
272. “Make Mine Music,” Make Mine Music (1946)
Everything Dominick said about “Fun and Fancy Free” applies here. “Make mine music and I’ll dream of you/ Make mine music and the dream comes true.” Give it a rest, Disney! You’re coming on kinda strong. — A. Shoemaker
271. “Arabian Nights,” Aladdin (1992)
There are a number of songs on this list to which time has been unkind, songs that came from a different era from American history when casual, off-the-cuff racism was treated far more delicately than audiences today might allow. And then there’s “Arabian Nights”, which is just as bad and looks a little worse by dint of coming from a movie released less than 25 years ago. It’s one cliché about the Middle East after the next, all wrapped up in the general sentiment of “It’s barbaric, but hey, it’s home!” Actual line from the song, by the way. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
270. “Something That I Want,” Tangled (2010)
Grace Potter’s rock revival style would seem to be an ill fit for a Disney vehicle, even one as awash in modern storytelling and style as Tangled. It turns out that’s exactly right. The stomp-clap introduction and tediously Doors-y synths introduce a song that aims to match the subversive sass of the film’s scrappy heroine, but ends up feeling like yet another obligatory Disney finale. There’s going to be several more of these before we get to the good stuff, so tuck in. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
269. “Wherever the Trail May Lead,” Home on the Range (2005)
This song basically screams “adult contemporary chart-topper” right down to the big and totally unnecessary key change and the gratuitous falsetto. Sorry, Tim McGraw. This one’s a dud.. — A. Shoemaker
268. “Someday,” The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1996)
Remember All-4-One? They were probably not the best choice to sing the super-synthy pop ballad that comes at the tail end of one if Disney’s darkest and least pop-filled films. Not a good song, but more importantly, it’s just a really, really inappropriate choice. Hope you enjoyed our grim movie. And now, All-4-One! Ooh, here comes the key change! — A. Shoemaker
267. “I’m Still Here (Jim’s Theme),” Treasure Planet (2002)
Not to be confused with the epic “I’m Still Here” from Stephen Sondheim’s Follies, this “I’m Still Here” is a generic pop ballad written by the chief Goo Goo Doll, John Rzeznik. The best and worst thing one can say about it is that it’s no “Iris”. But hey, the movie’s not bad. — A. Shoemaker
266. “Without You,” Make Mine Music (1946)
The sequence itself is very pretty, even if it does look like a screensaver I had in the ‘90s, but this is the worst kind of generic love song. — A. Shoemaker
265. “The Sword in the Stone,” The Sword in the Stone (1963)
Long before Fred Darian gets going, the toothless acoustic melody that drives “The Sword and the Stone” already suggests the worst tendencies of folksy ‘70s music. It’s a brief, mercifully short introduction to a film that definitely lands low in the grand Disney power ranking, and Darian’s ponderous warble hardly helps to dissuade viewers from the sense that what’s about to follow is going to be something of a letdown. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
264. “Healing Incantation/Prologue/The Tear Heals,” Tangled (2010)
This is very pretty, but good lord, the healing incantation shows up in Tangled so many times that it loses all its potency. The best thing about that important haircut Rapunzel gets is that it means we (almost) never have to hear this thing again. –Allison Shoemaker
263. “Always Know Where You Are,” Treasure Planet (2002)
Pick your poison: There are two versions of “Always Know Where You Are” from Treasure Planet, one of Disney’s very few outright duds since the Disney Renaissance began. One is by the Goo Goo Dolls’ John Rzeznik, the one that closes the film, and the other is by BBMak. Neither is particularly good, and Rzeznik’s version in the film is the perfect kind of pop-rock to which one might walk out of a movie theater, dodging small children all the while. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
262. “Fee Fi Fo Fum,” Fun & Fancy Free (1947)
Fun and Fancy Free’s Wayne the Giant actually appeared in a number of Disney properties thereafter, but was never the villain in the way he is when he delivers the brief, silly “Fee-Fi-Fo-Fum”. Like many of Disney’s omnibus film songs, it won’t linger for any length of time, and it’s basically a song about a giant who doesn’t seem to have the greatest-ever grasp on his giant powers, to joking effect. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
261. “They’re the Clades!,” Strange World (2022)
It feels weird to even be ranking “They’re the Clades!” on such a list. Strange World isn’t a musical, and as such “They’re the Clades!” is less of a song and more of a low-effort theme. It doesn’t strive to have a strong emotional core or boast a soaring melody, it just is. Because of the bottom-tier standards the song sets for itself, it’s hard to call the tune outright “bad,” but that being said, will it make anyone’s Disney tunes playlist? Anyone performing it on karaoke night? Not a chance. – Jonah Krueger
260. “Humiliation,” The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1996)
We probably shouldn’t even count this one, as it’s largely instrumental, but there are some voices at the end there, so here it is. It’s a great piece of orchestration, but not much else. Meh. — A. Shoemaker
259. “Try Everything,” Zootopia (2016)
“Try Everything” is Shakira’s nondescript bit of uplift that plays both during and at the end of monster hit Zootopia. In context of the film, it’s a sweet enough pop track about the value of keeping an open mind and discovering the much larger world beyond the one you’ve always known, but the third verse is the same as the first, and it’s another song by a popular artist that plays too standard to stick out in the way the film wishes it to. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
258. “Rescue Aid Society,” The Rescuers (1977)
The best thing that can be said about “Rescue Aid Society” is that it’s not a terrible ballad. But this movie has one honest-to-god musical number, and it’s a bunch of mice from all over the world pledging to save people who are in trouble. Somehow, this piece of nothing was all they came up with. Missed opportunity. — A. Shoemaker
257. “Hail to the Princess Aurora,” Sleeping Beauty (1959)
“Hail to the Princess Aurora/ All of her subjects adore her.” Repetitive, slow, too long, and contains slant rhyme? No thank you. — A. Shoemaker
256. “Never Knew I Needed,” The Princess and the Frog (2009)
Here’s more from the realm of “this doesn’t belong here”: compared to most of The Princess and the Frog’s dynamic, locally-minded soundtrack, “Never Knew I Needed” may as well have been recorded for an entirely different movie. There’s none of the Louisiana sound that makes some of the soundtrack’s better songs hum; in place of this is Ne-Yo’s end credits song, a generic pop ballad about love’s capacity to change lives that feels shoehorned into the film. Give the people what they want, Disney. What they want is more Keith David. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
255. “The Sailor’s Hornpipe,” Alice in Wonderland (1951)
There are so, so many songs in Alice in Wonderland. Get ready. This one’s inoffensive, but it’s a traditional melody with some original lyrics, and it’s over in under 40 seconds, instrumental break included. So here it sits. This is what happens when you do the bare minimum. — A. Shoemaker
254. “Ichabod,” The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad (1949)
It starts out promisingly enough (“Who’s that comin’ down the street/ Are they shovels or are they feet”), but “Ichabod Crane” loses steam fast. Bing Crosby does his Bing Crosby thing, but basically it’s just a bunch of people watching a guywalk down the street at an obnoxiously slow pace while reading a book. Wake me when it’s over. — A. Shoemaker
253. “That’s What Makes the World Go Round,” The Sword in the Stone (1963)
Here’s a kind of Disney song practically custom-made for the old Disney Sing-Along videos, but one that doesn’t really stand out on its own. As we’ve already established, The Sword and the Stone is full of this kind of song, and “That’s What Makes the World Go Round” is little more than a loping diatribe that Merlin lapses into when he turns himself and Arthur into fish just to prove a point about the animal kingdom. Plus, his advice of “You see my boy it’s nature’s way/ Upon the weak the strong ones prey/ The human life it’s also true/ The strong will try to conquer you” isn’t all that reassuring for an insecure kid. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
252. “The Elegant Captain Hook,” Peter Pan (1953)
As with “Casey at the Bat” and “Rescue Aid Society”, this one gets docked for being such a missed opportunity. The topic of this song is one of the best villains of all time. How is this all they could come up with? Cruella DeVil got a world-class anthem, and all she wanted was a coat. — A. Shoemaker
251. “Poor Aurora/Sleeping Beauty,” Sleeping Beauty (1959)
Yes, this is very pretty. Spoiler: All the songs from Sleeping Beauty are very pretty, because they’re all Tchaikovsky. However, there are others who use the beautiful music to much greater effect. She’s sleeping. And she’s beautiful. We get it. — A. Shoemaker
250. “Mine, Mine, Mine,” Pocahontas (1995)
A sort of spiritual companion to “Heigh-Ho”, but with a distinct overtone of cultural exploitation that Snow White never really broached in its time, “Mine, Mine, Mine” is a bit of wordplay that also stands as one of the less interesting Pocahontas songs. It works two ways, because it’s about selfishness, and also about Governor Ratcliffe (David Ogden Stiers) plotting to strip-mine the whole of Virginia for fame and fortune back in England. It’s a loose interpretation of history, and a looser kind of villain ballad, and doesn’t really land. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
249. “One Little Slip,” Chicken Little (2005)
It’s been, one little slip since … Never mind that.
The joke breaks down with the syllabic structure. Anyway, Barenaked Ladies contributed “One Little Slip” to Chicken Little, one of Disney’s earlier in-house forays into computer animation. It’s a milquetoast pop tune for a movie that could be considered much the same, and more proof that the band generally released all the wrong singles throughout their popular run. Not that it matters here, but a lot of Maroon really, really works, and we don’t get to write about BNL too often anymore, so that can just stay there. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
248. “Great Spirits,” Brother Bear (2003)
This mostly harmless opener from Brother Bear would probably ranked higher, though not much higher, but it committed a flagrant foul: blatant misuse of Tina Turner. Seriously, you get Tina Turner to agree to sing a song for your movie, and this is what you give her? Red card! — A. Shoemaker
247. “How D’Ye Do and Shake Hands,” Alice in Wonderland (1951)
The Tweedles get several songs in Alice. Two are sort of annoying, but mostly weird and cool. This one, though, is just annoying. Shut up, Tweedles. — A. Shoemaker
246. “True to Your Heart,” Mulan (1998)
Strangely enough, “True To Your Heart” has also appeared in a non-Disney movie, with Raven-Symone covering it years after Mulan for Ella Enchanted. The Disney version is not so Raven, however, instead performed by the all-star team of Stevie Wonder and… 98 Degrees. As you’d expect of a Disney ballad delivered by Nick Lachey’s onetime outfit, it’s not exactly a barn burner, and even by the standards of end-credit songs in Disney movies, it’s connected loosely. The film’s larger sentiments end up reduced to a simple “Trust your heart/ And you’ll see the light,” and it’s hardly a fitting end to one of Disney’s more thematically interesting features. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
245. “If I Never Knew You,” Pocahontas (1995)
The version of “If I Never Knew You” in Pocahontas is notably different from the one originally recorded for the film. The original was a duet between Mel Gibson and Judy Kuhn as John Smith and Pocahontas, but was abandoned in favor of a faster pace for the overall film. However, a version recorded by Jon Secada and Shanice plays over the end credits, one full of treacly synths and treaclier observations about love being the ultimate unifying force against racism. Or something. It’s in keeping with ‘90s music’s most unabashedly sappy tendencies, but if you’ve ever wanted to hear Mel Gibson sing a Disney ballad, it’s online for your perusal. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
244. “Let Me Be Good to You,” The Great Mouse Detective (1986)
Here’s a song where a mouse strips. It includes the lyric “I’ll take off all my blues.” It’s not particularly funny, sexy, or even deliberately weird (though make no mistake, it’s definitely weird). But the worst offense of all is that it’s basically just “Let Me Entertain You” from Gypsy, only not good. — A. Shoemaker
243. “No Way Out,” Brother Bear (2003)
Love him or hate him, Phil Collins knows his way around a heartfelt, remorseful ballad. But if you’re up for a song with absolutely no subtlety (“Of all the things I hid from you/ I cannot hide the shame/ And I pray someone, something will come, to take away the pain”), you’re way better off with “Against All Odds”. –Allison Shoemaker
242. “A Pirate’s Life,” Peter Pan (1953)
Much like “Skumps”, “A Pirate’s Life” just doesn’t have much to it. It comes and goes in Peter Pan, sung by the pirate crew as they do assorted pirate things. It doesn’t really say anything more than “piracy is fun, if dangerous,” although it does have the rather unnerving ending of Skylights being shot in mid-song. Truly, piracy is a life unworthy of more polite, decent people. Keep that in mind, torrenters the world over. The life of a pirate is short. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
241. “Son of Man,” Tarzan (1999)
If this song came up on a Pandora station, you might think it was “We Didn’t Start the Fire” for the first 15 seconds or so. Whether you’d be disappointed to discover it’s the worst song from Tarzan probably depends on your feelings about Phil Collins, Billy Joel, and Belgians in the Congo. Thumbs down. (Pandora? Get it?) — A. Shoemaker
240. “God Help the Outcasts,” The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1996)
While some of Disney’s work has hewed toward the pious, “God Help the Outcasts” is a more direct example; delivered by Heidi Mollenhauer as Esmeralda, it’s a ballad that ends up outshone by some of the other Hunchback balladry. For a film largely about respect for the pitiable, “God Helps the Outcasts” deals heavily in low-swinging pity, begging that “God help my people/ We look to You, still/ God help the outcasts/ Or nobody will.” It’s a song that aims for empathy and lands on vague sentiment. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
239. “Tulou Tagaloa,” Moana (2016)
When Moana opens, you hear one voice. Olivia Foa’i of Te Vaka (a celebrated Oceanic music group founded by Opetaia Foa’i, one of the film’s composers) unleashes a killer vocal, drawing you into a world where lava monsters are a) real and b) not what they seem, maybe? It’s thrilling, instantly epic, and ultimately kind of brief and meaningless since it transitions into a scene where a Grandma is scaring some little kids. Still, a lovely and mood-setting, if brief, piece of music. — A. Shoemaker
238. “Alice In Wonderland,” Alice in Wonderland (1951)
As this list goes on, you’ll notice a trend: the introductory songs to most Disney movies, particularly from older generations, are all serviceable without sticking out in any particular way. The same can be said for “Alice in Wonderland”, from the opening credits of the film of same name. If anything, it’s surprising how straightforward the song is compared to the impish absurdism of so much of what follows. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
237. “Let’s Sing a Gay Little Spring Song,” Bambi (1942)
The choral singing in <em>Bambi</em> can be very effective at times, but this isn’t one of them. Imagine what a song with that title would sound like. Yeah, it sounds exactly like that. Be right back, gotta deal with this sugar coma. — A. Shoemaker
236. “Once Upon a Wintertime,” Melody Time (1948)
This song is a damn Christmas Mad-Lib. It’s like one of those SEO-creating bots wrote a holiday song. Merry bells, chestnut mares, ice-skating, jingling spines (yep), blah, blah, blah. The ice-skating rabbits are cute, but even they get pretty obnoxious when the lady rabbit melts the ice off the dude rabbit with her smokin’ hot bod. — A. Shoemaker
235. “Very Good Advice,” Alice in Wonderland (1951)
What a disappointment this song is. “Very Good Advice” may be the only song on this list that’s totally tanked by a performance. Kathryn Beaumont’s performance as Alice is, by and large, really wonderful, but whoever told her to fake cry through most of this song should have been fired. Melody? What melody? I’ve got to do some more sniffling. — Allison Shoemaker
234. “And He Shall Smite the Wicked,” The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1996)
Now for something different: a Disney song performed fully in Latin by the English National Opera Company, as Frollo makes his final stand against Quasimodo and is dragged to hell for his troubles. It’s a short one, but an effectively menacing accompaniment to a character who hides behind piety to commit all manner of sins. And the booming choral accompaniment has quite a bit to say on the topic of Frollo’s well-earned exit: “Day of wrath, that day/ Shall consume the world in ashes/ When the judge is come/ When the damned shall be cast down/ Into the searing flames.” Damn, Disney. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
233. “Blue Bayou,” Make Mine Music (1946)
“Blue Bayou” actually started as a deleted segment from Fantasia, but the self-proclaimed tone poem is far more memorable for the animation of the Make Mine Music segment in which it appears than for the song itself. To say that the Ken Darby Singers’ rendition is sleepy would be an understatement; it’s a lovely, harp-driven melody that might just lull you to sleep in no time flat. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
232. “Look Through My Eyes,” Brother Bear (2003)
Phil Collins was Disney’s go-to guy for a while there, huh? Near the end of Brother Bear comes “Look Through My Eyes”, a well-meaning, upbeat song about following one’s heart to the daylight that trots out the greatest hits of the modern soft-rock playbook. You get: attentive, uptempo, non-distracting piano; light electronic flourishes; acoustic guitar; some nondescript electric guitar for flavor; and Phil Collins. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
231. “Scales and Arpeggios,” The Aristocats (1970)
So here’s the thing. “Scales and Arpeggios” is a weird scene in the middle of The AristoCats, as it basically invites viewers to take in the piano lesson of a privileged cat, as she sings a song about that lesson. It owes more than a little bit of spiritual debt to The Sound of Music’s “Do Re Mi”, but imagine that song if it were sung by a chirpy child. If that doesn’t sound good to you, well, you might just want to move on to other parts of the film’s soundtrack. And Marie’s observation that this is sheet music theory “every cultured student knows” comes off a little smug. Take it down a notch, cat child. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
230. “Honor to Us All,” Mulan (1998)
Poor Mulan. Seriously. It all works out for her in the end, but she spends quite a bit of her film at the mercy of pretty much everyone else around her. Take “Honor to Us All” for instance, which frames her preparation rituals for courtship as a gauntlet of demands from her grandfather and pretty much her entire village at large. Her bather compares her to a “sow’s ear,” and it doesn’t get a lot better from there, with the busybody bystanders instructing her about how important it is for her to be complacent and attentive. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
229. “My Favorite Dream,” Fun and Fancy Free (1947)
“Mickey and the Beanstalk” seems like a great idea, but man, it’s kind of a bore. “My Favorite Dream” is a cookie-cutter ballad with cookie-cutter lyrics that basically only exists so that the harp can give Mickey a window in which to steal the giant’s key. It puts the giant to sleep, so I guess the giant and I have that in common. — A. Shoemaker
228. “The Next Right Thing,” Frozen II (2019)
An empathic song about depression and what it takes to pull yourself out of it, there’s a lot to appreciate in “The Next Right Thing,” especially Kristen Bell’s delicate vocals and the central message of the lyrics. But unlike other Kristen Anderson-Lopez and Robert Lopez tunes, there’s no memorable hook or melody, despite being three minutes and 30 seconds long. (Other songs on this list do a lot more with less.) — L.S. Miller
227. “Once Upon a Time in New York City,” Oliver & Company (1988)
Some of Oliver & Company has aged very, very well. Some of it sounds exactly like you’d expect a movie from the late ‘80s to sound, in the best possible way. This one just sounds dated (not because of Huey Lewis, either). And oh, god, that chorus. Doesn’t get much more maudlin than that. Luckily, the film’s real show-stopper comes in pretty hot on its heels. — A. Shoemaker
226. “The Bells of Notre Dame,” The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1996)
“The Bells of Notre Dame” is delivered by Clopin, in telling children of the legend of Quasimodo, a name that Clopin translates outright in mid-song as “half-formed.” It’s a cruel opening, one that recounts how Frollo was perilously close to just drowning Quasimodo because of his appearance suggesting a demon’s. A lot of Disney movies don’t play around when it comes to the brutal realities of the world, but as you’ll see time and again as this list goes on, The Hunchback of Notre Dame is especially pronounced in its unflinching cruelty. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
225. “You’ll Be in My Heart,” Tarzan (1999)
Phil Collins’ most well-known song from the Tarzan soundtrack is also its most aggressively saccharine. It’s a fine vocal turn from Collins, but man, this is basically the color beige as a Disney ballad destined to be trotted out at father-daughter first dances until time immemorial. (Hearsay from writers older than this one suggests it was also a prom jam in its time, which makes just as much sense.) An additional version in the film, titled “Lullaby”, is posed as a duet with Glenn Close and is actually more effective for its brevity. But Collins’ hit? It can be done without.– D. Suzanne-Mayer
224. “We’ll Smoke the Blighter Out,” Alice in Wonderland (1951)
God, Alice has so many songs. This one’s fine, I guess? It seems like a song written while a house is about to be burned while the hero is stuck inside it could be more dynamic, but no, they’ll just smoke the blighter out, in case you missed that that’s what they’re doing. — A. Shoemaker
223. “Hip Hip Pooh Ray,” The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh (1977)
This list will prove that we’re Pooh fans. Seriously, those songs are damn good, and you can get away with quite a lot when you’re writing for children. But I’m sorry, hip hip pooh-ray is just a bridge too far. A person can only handle so much twee. — A. Shoemaker
222. “Casey Junior,” Dumbo (1941)
Yes, this one’s catchy enough that it ended up on some of those Disney sing-along tapes with which the world’s children were brainwashed at a young age, but for all Dumbo’s inventiveness, “Casey Junior” is a bit of a snooze. Cute filler, but filler all the same. — A. Shoemaker
221. “All Is Found,” Frozen II (2019)
One of the most forgettable songs to come out of the Frozen franchise, this opening number even puts the characters to sleep – literally. The somewhat eerie, lullaby-esque tune suffers from a bland melody and overly-dramatic orchestration, with equally vanilla lyrics to match. There’s little that makes it distinctly Frozen, and the result is a track that feels like it could have come from any given Disney animation. – J. Krueger
220. “Immortals,” Big Hero 6 (2014)
CoS is a Chicago-based publication, which means that every time Fall Out Boy comes up in conversation, we’re obligated to observe how far the band has come since its VFW hall emo days. Need yet another reminder? Look no further than “Immortals,” the generic tech-rock track FOB put together for Big Hero 6, a movie far more interesting than the pop single bestowed upon it. It also feels like a B-side to “Centuries,” one only mildly more subdued than that already kind of ridiculous song. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
219. “Sanctuary,” The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1996)
The darkness of Hunchback proves to be one of its virtues, but good god, this is a bit much. The only thing that makes “Sanctuary” less dark than, say, “O Fortuna” from Carmina Burana, is that Quasimodo does in fact manage to save Esmeralda from being burned alive. Laying it on a little thick, aren’t we, Menken? — A. Shoemaker
218. “Know Who You Are,” Moana (2016)
This reprise emerges near the end of Moana, as Auli’I Cravalho’s intrepid warrior finally comes face-to-face with Te Fiti, the spirit of the island and mother of all creation. It’s a brief piece, repurposing the melody from “An Innocent Warrior” in service of Moana’s impassioned plea with Te Fiti to rediscover her less lava-filled, more peaceful side, and Cravalho delivers it with the nuanced delicacy that she brings to all of her performances in the film. It’s very much a Disney piece, but a well-performed (if quick) one. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
217. “Listen With Your Heart I/Listen With Your Heart II,” Pocahontas (1995)
One of the shortest songs in Pocahontas, Grandmother Willow’s vaguely disturbing tree face advises Pocahontas on her journey with some simple, sage advice: “Listen with your heart, you will understand.” And even if it’s just a quick melody from which the film quickly moves on, the way in which the song’s production uses the simple sound of rushing wind for atmosphere is an interesting aural choice. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
216. “All of You,” Encanto (2021)
This is the lowest-ranked Encanto song on this list, only because it’s less of an original song in its own right and more of a combination of themes from the rest of the soundtrack. As the penultimate song, it’s responsible for wrapping up a lot of plot, but doesn’t stand out on its own merits. — L.S. Miller
215. “The Gospel Truth I-III,” Hercules (1997)
Since each installment of “The Gospel Truth” barely counts as a song on its own, we’ve lumped them together here. As the muses of Hercules periodically step into the film as the most literal Greek chorus possible, in order to keep the story moving and streamline some of the more complicated bits of mythos involved in the film, “The Gospel Truth(s)” maintain the speedy, lighthearted pace of much of the film at large. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
214. “The Rain Rain Rain Came Down,” The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh (1977)
There’s a flood in the Hundred Acre Wood, and this omnipotent chorus would like to tell you all about it. Pretty forgettable song, but it gets a few bonus points for some great alliteration (“frozen fractals” is the new “rushing, rising riv’lets”). — A. Shoemaker
213. “Melody Time,” Melody Time (1948)
The title song from the 1948 assemblage of short films of same name, “Melody Time” starts with a cacophonous overture before slipping into a ‘40s Disney bit of light swing courtesy of Buddy Clark, the film’s host and narrator, who invites viewers to “jump in and sing.” It’s simple, old-fashioned stuff, and it’s just fine for what it is. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
212. “The Whale Who Wanted to Sing at the Met,” Make Mine Music (1946)
Lots of great music in this one, almost none of it actually Disney’s. Listening to Willie the Whale will certainly make a person realize exactly how much opera they’ve heard before, but it’s likely that the non-opera parts won’t be remembered. Bonus points for the darkest Disney ending that doesn’t involve Bambi’s dead mom, though. — A. Shoemaker
211. “Spirit,” The Lion King (2019)
“Spirit” was always destined for middling reception. Housed within a particularly maligned live-action remake and squeezed between some of the most beloved classics in the Disney canon (both in terms of proper songs and Hans Zimmer’s score), the track had to be something truly special to make any sort of mark. Spoiler alert: it wasn’t anything close to special. Not even Beyoncé could save this tune from being immediately forgotten, though we’d guess she might prefer it that way. – J. Krueger
210. “Appreciate the Lady,” The Fox and the Hound (1981)
Pearl Bailey’s gonna give it to you straight: being nice to someone is way more likely to get you laid than lying and/or being an asshole. Sound advice, mediocre song. — A. Shoemaker
209. “The AristoCats,” The AristoCats (1970)
“The AristoCats” stands as one of Maurice Chevalier’s final recorded performances, and it’s a cute, weightless bit of opening credits fluff (in the non-cat sense). Its vaguely Parisian melody hums under Chevalier singing of privileged animals, occasionally in French, and it’s a fine bit of table-setting for a film that finds substantially more style in a lot of the music that follows. And Chevalier’s mega-clichéd flourishes at the end are enjoyably aged.– D. Suzanne-Mayer
208. “The Future Has Arrived,” Meet the Robinsons (2007)
‘Sup, All-American Rejects? The early-aughts power pop band contributed “The Future Has Arrived” to the Meet the Robinsons soundtrack, and given some of the other Top 40-minded songs on this list, it’s not half bad. If the production is mega-clean even by the band’s poppy standards, it captures the manic, inventive energy of the movie well enough, if not to any overwhelmingly lasting effect. It’s an end-credits song, which probably isn’t shocking to most. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
207. “Too Good To Be True,” Fun and Fancy Free (1947)
The only thing that makes “Too Good to be True” a trite but not unbearable entry is the bizarre sequence in which it’s featured, in which a pair of oddly violent cupid-bears show us how twitterpated Bongo and his lady-love have become. The literal rose-colored glasses are a nice touch, too. — A. Shoemaker
206. “Little Patch of Heaven,” Home on the Range (2004)
Man, k.d. Lang sounds great in “A Little Patch of Heaven”, a song that rhapsodizes about the many virtues of a dairy farm that bears the name, you guessed it, Little Patch of Heaven. Too bad the song itself isn’t more memorable. — A. Shoemaker
205. “You Belong to My Heart,” The Three Caballeros (1944)
Dora Luz delivers “You Belong To My Heart” as a translation of the Bolero love song “Solamente una vez”, and the Disney version retains much of the gentle Samba melody. Luz’s resonant delivery is offset by Donald Duck quacking his way through the song in response, loving and animated, which is funny if more than a little bit distracting. But what else says love like “we own all the stars and a million guitars are still playing”? — D. Suzanne-Mayer
204. “Eeyore Needs a Tail/The Winner Song,” Winnie the Pooh (2011)
The 2011 Winnie the Pooh is surprisingly delightful, but of all the fun little gems in its score, this one’s by far the most forgettable. It does end with a solid verse for Eeyore, however: “Found an anchor over there/ Now it’s on my derriere/ Not that anybody’d care.” — A. Shoemaker
203. “Blue Shadows on the Trail,” Melody Time (1948)
One of two Roy Rogers performances in Melody Time, “Blue Shadows” has the unhappy distinction of being far more memorably used in Three Amigos! It’s fine. — A. Shoemaker
202. “Sugar Rush,” Wreck-It Ralph (2012)
Delivered primarily in Japanese by the girl group AKB48, “Sugar Rush” is pretty much exactly what it sounds like. The theme song to the Mario Kart-style racing game within Wreck-It Ralph covers its electric riff in several layers of glossy and … well, sugary production, and will lodge itself in your head for days if this sort of relentless pop is your thing. And how could it not be? All together, now: “S-U-G-A-R! Jump into your racing car!” — D. Suzanne-Mayer
201. “An Innocent Warrior,” Moana (2016)
A scene-setting piece early in the film, “An Innocent Warrior” establishes two of the core motifs around which Moana’s soundtrack is built: ethereal choral sounds and gentle, oceanic melodies. It’s one of the more subdued pieces from the film, but Vai Mahina’s standout vocal elevates it despite the song’s relative brevity (it clocks in at barely 90 seconds). In a soundtrack full of bounce and drum-driven theatrics, it’s a welcome and wholly appropriate change of pace. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
200. “Baia,” The Three Caballeros (1944)
Taking its melody from Brazilian composer Ary Barroso’s “Na Baixa do Sapateiro, “Baía” is an appropriately lush song for a very pretty sequence in which nothing happens. — A. Shoemaker
199. “Mind Over Matter,” The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh (1977)
The Sherman Brothers wrote lots and lots of very clever songs for the Pooh shorts. This one’s not really among them. It’s still playful, catchy, and cute, but it’s basically just a song to pass the time while everyone tries to push Pooh through the hole in which he’s stuck. Not exactly the stuff of legend. — A. Shoemaker
198. “The Tummy Song,” Winnie the Pooh (2011)
A song so cute it’s almost kind of aggravating, “The Tummy Song” is a quick Pooh Bear serenade about the importance of eating and also of giving your stomach what it wants when it wants it. Jim Cummings’ latter-day rendition of Pooh delivers the song with a wiser, but still beyond-precious sentiment, and if you’re not at least a little charmed by fast-paced rhymes like “when there is no honey the Pooh takes the tummy wherever the honey will be,” you may in fact be dead. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
197. “Two Worlds,” Tarzan (1999)
So that slow build into a thunderous drum track is pretty choice and pretty Phil Collins to boot. “Two Worlds” introduces Tarzan with a frantic bit of action, before the singer’s instantly recognizable upper-register vocals implore all to “Trust your heart/ Let fate decide/ To guide these lives we see.” It capably sets the tone of warring worlds, and compared to some of Collins’ work elsewhere in the film, “Two Worlds” is pretty lively stuff. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
196. “Love,” Robin Hood (1973)
Somehow, of all the songs in Robin Hood (hint: they’re all higher on the list, including the one that’s basically just whistling), this treacly Nancy Adams ballad is the one that got nominated for an Oscar. It’s fine. There are fireflies. They’re pretty. Whatever. — A. Shoemaker
195. “Waiting on a Miracle,” Encanto (2021)
While most of Encanto is in a classic 4/4 time, Mirabel’s “I Want” song is written in 3/4, symbolizing how she moves to a different rhythm from the rest of her kin. When she sings, “Hey, I’m still a part of the family Madrigal/ And I’m fine, I am totally fine,” it’s not the world’s most subtle subtext, but it still gives us a clue into the girl who tries to see the best in everyone, including herself. After the miracle fails to appear even when begged to a traditional bambuco beat, then Mirabel is ready to take fate into her own hands. — Wren Graves
194. “The Virginia Company”/Reprise, Pocahontas (1995)
The introduction to Pocahontas through the eyes of the titular trading group, John Smith is brought in to help the singing chorus of settlers pursue their dreams of untold wealth and fortune. It’s a triumphant, drum-and-whistle production extolling the virtues of conquering new lands, even if the reprise has another one of those Pocahontas lines that makes you hiss through your teeth a little bit in “we’ll kill ourselves an Injun/ Or maybe two or three/ We’re stalwart men and bold/ Of the Virginia Company.” At least it’s the bad guys in this case. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
193. “Good Company,” Oliver & Company (1988)
The repetitive melody and lyrics can be mostly excused, as the song begins with Jenny practicing the piano as Oliver watches. But for all its sweetness, “Good Company” still feels like something of a missed opportunity. If this adoption song had been the least bit anthemic, we might have been spared all those Sarah McLachlan ASPCA commercials. Still, it’s not bad. — A. Shoemaker
192. “Saludos Amigos,” Saludos Amigos (1942)
Disney’s goodwill trip to South America is historically fascinating, as one of the aims was to help defeat the Nazis (no, really, it was). The two movies that emerged from that trip are somewhat less interesting, something epitomized by the Oscar-nominated title track. Sounds great, but you’ll likely forget about it within minutes. — A. Shoemaker
191. “La La Lu,” Lady and the Tramp (1955)
Darling’s lullaby to her newborn, “La La Lu” provides a great showcase for the remarkable voice of Peggy Lee, but that’s about all there is to it. The lyrics (“La la lu, la la lu/ Oh my little star-sweeper/ I’ll sweep the stardust for you”) leave a lot to be desired, and as it arrives on the heels of the terrific “What Is a Baby?”, it suffers a great deal by comparison. — A. Shoemaker
190. “Little Wooden Head,” Pinocchio (1940)
Fun fact: “Pinocchio” actually means “little wooden head.” It’s also the name of the song that Geppetto first sings to Pinoccchio, and its sentiments play like any other Disney song between a parent and child. Geppetto believes in the power of his soon-to-be real boy to make the world a better place, as Christian Rub croons about his “Little wooden head with eyes that shine/ Little wooden head that’s made of pine/ In a weary world you do your share/ Spreading laughter everywhere.” He gets there eventually, if not without struggle. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
189. “Jonny Fedora and Alice Bluebonnet,” Make Mine Music (1946)
From Make Mine Music, here’s a song about gendered hats. Johnny Fedora loves Alice Blue Bonnet so deeply that his life is torn asunder when he’s sold away and repeatedly abused as hats too often are. Of course, this being a Disney song, they’re one day reunited to live happily ever after and even have a couple of baby hats in a miracle of procreation that defies both God and logic. And it wasn’t the last film appearance for Johnny, who actually pops up at the end of Who Framed Roger Rabbit? atop a hippopotamus. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
188. “Reindeer(s) are Better Than People,” Frozen (2013)
Here’s one of Frozen’s very lightest songs. “Reindeer(s) Are Better Than People” is a quick lullaby sung by Jonathan Groff’s Kristoff, both to and in the style of his beloved reindeer companion, Sven. It’s goofy and short, even as Kristoff sings (as Sven) how “people will beat you and curse you and cheat you.” Even in the film’s moments of levity, a little bit of world-weariness tends to slip out in small ways. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
187. “Wintry Winds,” Bambi (1942)
It’s a choral piece where the choir creates the sound of, you guessed it, a wintry wind. Pretty, but also pretty unremarkable. — A. Shoemaker
186. “Rumbly in My Tumbly,” The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh (1977)
One could be forgiven for forgetting this song, one of the seemingly dozens of Pooh songs about being hungry and/or wanting honey. They’re all cute, but they do blur together, and this is one of the blurrier numbers on that long, long list. There’s at least one moment of classic Sherman Brothers wit, however: “Time to munch/ An early luncheon/ Hum de dum dum dum.” — A. Shoemaker
185. “Peace on Earth,” Lady and the Tramp (1955)
Over a truly serene Christmas scene, “Peace on Earth” functions as a brief, lovely countermelody to “Silent Night” as Donald Novis invokes, “Peace, my children of good will/ Peace, my children, peace be still.” It’s one of the earlier moments in The Lady and the Tramp, but also a quick, potent reminder of how lovely even the subtlest moments of the marriage of Disney animation and music can sometimes be. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
184. “A Girl Worth Fighting For,” Mulan (1998)
“A Girl Worth Fighting For” is basically the Disney song equivalent of one of those awkward moments of not fitting in with coworkers’ banter, particularly if they’ve ever been a woman in a male-dominated field of work. As the warriors march on to battle with the Huns, several of them start to wax heroic about the kind of woman they’d ideally like to be rewarded with for their efforts. For Mulan’s part, she tries to interject with “How about a girl who’s got a brain/ Who always speaks her mind,” which gets a resounding response of “Nah!” At least it’s a comedy song that makes the soldiers sound like dopes. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
183. “(You Ain’t) Home on the Range,” Home on the Range (2004)
It’s no “Fathoms Below” or “Steady as the Beating Drum”, but the opener to Home on the Range could be a lot worse. Sure, it sounds exactly like you think it would sound, with no musical surprises in store, but Glenn Slater’s lyrics offer a few moments of cleverness (“Out in the land of the desperado/ if you’re as soft as an avocado/ Yee-haw, you’re guacamole, son!”). Besides, even at his most predictable, Alan Menken still knows how to write a catchy tune. — A. Shoemaker
182. “Your Mother and Mine,” Peter Pan (1953)
In a film all about lost children of one kind or another, “Your Mother and Mine” hits ably on the fantasy (and accompanying sadness) of attempting to explain what a mother’s unconditional love is like to children who don’t know. Kathryn Beaumont brings the same vulnerability to the song that she lent to Alice (of Wonderland) just a couple years prior, but it’s more of a gentle bedtime rhyme for the youngest in Peter’s crew than a full-blown performance. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
181. “I Am Moana,” Moana (2016)
When is a reprise not a reprise? When it’s a hybrid of two previous tracks, a musical Frankenstein that doesn’t really give us anything new musically. Still, “I Am Moana” is worth a listen for those final seconds when Auli’i Cravalho lets her voice loose and declares who, after nearly two hours of asking, she truly is. Add in Rachel House’s tender, weary performance as Gramma Tala and you’ve got a just-OK song made unskippable by the voices that bring it to life. — A. Shoemaker
180. “Old Father William,” Alice in Wonderland (1951)
Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum get a proper number, one that’s featured higher on this list. For now, here’s yet another short Wonderland song that would probably be pretty good if you heard more than 20 seconds of it. — A. Shoemaker
179. “Mexico,” The Three Caballeros (1944)
At the time, the technological razzle-dazzle required to make it so that Donald and his friends Jose and Panchito can take a tour of Mexico (you know, the live-action Mexico) on a flying sarape was pretty damn advanced. The song? Good, but not great, and cheesy, but not unbearably so. As far as tourism ad campaigns go, you could do a lot worse. — A. Shoemaker
178. “Yodel-Adle-Eedle-Idle-Oo,” Home on the Range (2004)
Uh, so apparently Randy Quaid is pretty accomplished at the age-old art of yodeling. That’s right: Before he became a depressing pop cultural curiosity, Quaid lent his surprisingly formidable pipes to Home on the Range’s “Yodel-Adle-Eedle-Idle-Oo”, a villain song for Quaid’s evil cattle rancher, Alameda Slim. It’s not only (assumedly) some of the more menacing yodeling ever recorded, but in context Slim is yodeling for the purpose of hypnotizing and kidnapping animals. Truly, a more seductive yodel has never existed to ears human or animal than Quaid’s. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
177. “Colombia, Mi Encanto,” Encanto (2021)
The bustling “Colombia Mi Encanto” is a love letter to Colombia, its rich history of music, and the themes of Encanto. It’s a particularly joyous number, and its thumping beat beckons you to the dance floor. Carlos Vives may provide an excellent vocal performance, but the song itself feels less like Encanto‘s thesis and more like a background track intended for the credits. — Paolo Ragusa
176. “The Journey,” The Rescuers (1977)
“The Journey” is a simple number, a largely instrumental track with a chorus played over The Rescuers opening credits. Shelby Flint’s pained croon of “who will rescue me?” is accompanied by an optimistic, if melancholic, soprano sax melody, and if there’s not much more to it beyond that and the grandiose strings that tend to accompany a great many of these opening songs, it’s still a lovely, forlorn piece. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
175. “I Thought I Lost You,” Bolt (2008)
At the height of her Hannah Montana phase but before “Party in the U.S.A.”, Miley Cyrus made Bolt, and with it “I Thought I Lost You”, which is a fun, perfectly harmless little pop tune. It would probably rank higher if not for a bit of a squick factor, as this is also a duet with John Travolta. Now, since he voiced Bolt, this isn’t technically a love duet, but it sure sounds like one. Yeesh. — A. Shoemaker
174. “Looking for Romance (I Bring You a Song),” Bambi (1942)
This song is fine. It’s very pretty, and uses choral voices as well as almost anything in Bambi, but it’s totally unnecessary, too. As the background for one of the most beautiful sequences in the film, it’s simply there to tell us what the gorgeous animation already has: Bambi and Faline are falling in love. — A. Shoemaker
173. “Song of the Roustabouts,” Dumbo (1941)
The animated sequence surrounding “Roustabouts” is one of a great many Disney songs of its kind, what with a merry band of workers singing a song of uncommon anguish that doesn’t seem to realize that’s what it is. The Roustabouts, however, are a group of men who use a substantial amount of elephant labor to pitch each circus tent in each town on their tour, and apparently “never learn to read or write,” but are happy anyway. Good for them? — D. Suzanne-Mayer
172. “All in the Golden Afternoon,” Alice in Wonderland (1951)
Of all of the many strange faces Alice encounters in her trip through Wonderland, the flowers aren’t exactly the most iconic. Nor is “All in the Golden Afternoon”, in which a crooning chorus of flowers serenades Alice on the topic of, well, being flowers: “There are dizzy daffodils on the hillside/ Strings of violets are all in tune/ Tiger lilies love the dandelions/ In the golden afternoon.” Kathryn Beaumont’s spot-on delivery of Alice’s counter-melody goes a long way, but otherwise, let’s move on. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
171. “Transformation,” Brother Bear (2003)
Our highest-ranked song from Brother Bear is actually a pretty good example of when a Phil Collins score can work for a Disney movie. Like Tarzan’s “Trashin’ the Camp” (still to come), it’s evocative and atmospheric, telling the story through sound, rather than text. There’s text too, but as sung in the film by the Bulgarian Women’s Choir, it’s all in the Iñupiat language. — A. Shoemaker
170. “Friends on the Other Side,” The Princess and the Frog (2009)
The villain song for The Princess and the Frog’s Dr. Facilier, “Friends on the Other Side” is a delight just for the sake of listening to Keith David sink his teeth into a song about voodoo and other such forms of dark magic. If it doesn’t quite have the memorable lyricism of some of the Mouse House’s best tributes to the nefarious, David purring his way through “I hope you’re satisfied/ But if you ain’t, don’t blame me/ You can blame my friends on the other side” is worth it alone. If ever an actor was made to play a smooth-talking Disney villain, David was. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
169. “Cinderella,” Cinderella (1950)
The song that appears over the opening titles of Cinderella repurposes the old-fashioned chorus that backs much of the film’s music for a tune that’s deliberate even by the film’s generally airy musical standards. It’s basically the moral of the story in one tidy package, before a single frame of film even plays, what with the talk of how “Though you’re dressed in rags, you wear an air of queenly grace/ Anyone can see a throne would be your proper place.” Little presumptuous there, movie. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
168. “Love Is a Song,” Bambi (1942)
Here is the opening song of Bambi, from that brief moment while watching the film where you expect a cute Disney movie, right before you learn about the harsh, brutal realities of death and matricide the hard way. It’s a solid, if inconsequential, preamble to a film that’s largely cute once you get past that whole “your mom is dead, you’re alone in the world” situation, setting that central tone in decent fashion. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
167. “Where Is Your Heart At?,” Meet the Robinsons (2007)
As the singing voice of Frankie the Frog, Jamie Cullum gets two at bats. The other is a solid cover of “Give Me the Simple Life”, but “Where Is Your Heart At?” (written by Rufus Wainwright) is the only original he gets to tackle. It’s kind of nonsensical, but pretty good? There’s something about a circus coming to town and him becoming a magician? Honestly, let this guy croon, and it doesn’t matter what he says. — A. Shoemaker
166. “When I Am Older,” Frozen II (2019)
The best Olaf is an iced and chilled Crocodile Dundee, baffled at all this stuff he doesn’t understand. But a close second is young Olaf, stand-in for the children in the audience. “When I Am Older” is a great example of this species of snowman, optimistic that things will work out but fairly worried in the meantime. It’s a bit of amusing fluff, as each new verse brings confident rationalizing followed by a flash of anxiety undercut with visual slapstick. — W. Graves
165. “A-E-I-O-U,” Alice in Wonderland (1951)
This is just a caterpillar smoking hookah and singing the titular vowels over and over again. It’s hard to fault that, as it’s sort of perfect exactly as it is. But it’s also hard to give it much credit, because it’s just some vowels. Ah, well. Wouldn’t change a thing. — A. Shoemaker
164. “Goodbye, So Soon,” The Great Mouse Detective (1986)
The best song for the best character in this movie is still to come, but “Goodbye, So Soon” has its own charms. On the downside, it’s essentially just background noise for the scene in which Basil and Dawson escape from Ratigan’s death trap at the very last moment. But the fact that it’s just in the background is part of what makes it so fun: What kind of villain records a taunting goodbye song, puts it on the record player, and makes the trigger for the trap the point at which the record player’s needle comes to a stop? A great villain, that’s what kind. — A. Shoemaker
163. “I’m Wishing,” Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937)
On record, since “I’m Wishing” is the first song in Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, it’s also the very first Disney song of them all. As openings to a near-century lineage of music go, “I’m Wishing” is a fine one, one that segues into “One Song” as the film opens its historic love story. And the echo effect surrounding “Make a wish into the well/ That’s all you have to do/ And if you hear it echoing/ Your wish will soon come true” is a masterful bit of early-cinema audio production. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
162. “Frozen Heart,” Frozen (2013)
Frozen opens with “Frozen Heart”, hardly one of the film’s more oft-quoted songs but one that nevertheless establishes its world quickly enough, by way of a sort of lyrical Greek chorus that uses entendre to set up the film’s central conceit of ice as a visual and thematic metaphor for grief, anxiety, and all manner of other human afflictions. “This icy force both foul and fair/ Has a frozen heart worth mining!” is a fine thesis statement for everything that follows, and even if “Frozen Heart” doesn’t have much payoff in the film’s larger context, sometimes that’s enough. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
161. “Lazy Countryside,” Fun and Fancy Free (1947)
The best of the songs from the Bongo segment of Fun and Fancy Free, “Lazy Countryside” is the rare piece of Disney music that’s better without the animation. It’s like The Young Rascals’ “Groovin’” or The Lovin’ Spoonful’s “Daydream”, with a Dinah Shore vocal that makes you want to go have a really nice picnic and maybe a nap immediately. It’s much, much better without the stupid bear. — A. Shoemaker
160. “The Gifts of Beauty and Song,” Sleeping Beauty (1959)
As Aurora is gifted with the titular blessings, “The Gifts of Beauty and Song” promises early in Sleeping Beauty that true love will conquer all. It’s a notion that guides Aurora through increasing adversity, and one of the film’s many repurposed Tchaikovsky melodies is used in brief with “Beauty and Song” to resonant, well-animated effect. It’s not the film’s most memorable stuff, but it’s effective nonetheless. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
159. “The Caucus Race,” Alice in Wonderland (1951)
Yet another brief song from Alice, this one has a leg up on some of its fellows because it just sounds like so much fun. A group of birds, starfish, and the like are too busy racing to be much bothered by the fact that they’re routinely getting doused by the waves. So what if the goal of the race is to dry off? It looks like an insanely good time (or at least insane). — A. Shoemaker
158. “Look Out for Mr. Stork,” Dumbo (1941)
Look out for Mr. Stork, kids. He’s gonna bring you a baby whether you like it or not. Early in Dumbo, a battalion of storks brings babies to the various circus animals, all while this happens: “And let me tell you, friend/ Don’t try to get away/ He’ll find you in the end.” And moments later, at the song’s conclusion: “He’s got you on his list/ And when he comes around/ It’s useless to resist.” That’s right. Mr. Stork is bringing you a baby, and no matter where you go, it’s as inevitable as the rising sun. Song’s fine, but the implications are pretty damn scary. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
157. “The Three Caballeros,” The Three Caballeros (1944)
Ranchera artist Manuel Esperón collaborated with Walt Disney on the Mexican portions of The Three Caballeros, and it’s Esperón’s song “Ay, Jalisco, no te rajes” that’s proven to be the most memorable. With new lyrics from Ray Gilbert, it’s not the most culturally sophisticated piece of music in the world, but Esperón’s melody and the fun of seeing Donald Duck try to sing along with two birds who can actually sing makes it worth a listen. — A. Shoemaker
156. “Streets of Gold,” Oliver & Company (1988)
Disney has a mixed record when it comes to attempting to connect with the zeitgeist. Oliver & Company is pretty thoroughly ‘80s, never more so than with “Streets of Gold”, a Ruth Pointer track overflowing with Casio drum tracks, periodic bursts of horns, and a general sense of excess in every direction. It’s not bad for its time, even with the heavily augmented sax solo midway through, but it’s in every way a product of it. — D. Suzanne-Mayer
