FEATURE:
Such Great Heights
Inside the Incredible and Enduring Soundtrack of Zach Braff’s 2004 Film, Garden State
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NOT related to any…
IN THIS PHOTO: Garden State’s writer/director/star Zach Braff onstage for a twentieth anniversary concert in 2025/PHOTO CREDIT: Matt Winkelmeyer/Getty Images
news, anniversary or anything significant relating to it, I did want to look inside the soundtrack of the 2004 film, Garden State. I guess its director/writer/star Zach Braff is back in a lot of people’s homes and minds because of the new series of Scrubs. Finding peak form and seemingly entering a new phase of life, we hope that there are many more episodes to come. Braff is a successful director and writer, and it must be strange looking back to 2004 when Garden State was released. That was his debut as a director and writer. I do love the film, yet it is the soundtrack that really stayed with me. I have written about various film scores and soundtracks. How important they are. Debating which are the best. Certain directors whose film soundtracks are almost as good as the films themselves. Paul Thomas Anderson and Quentin Tarantino among them. Maybe it is the selection of songs on Garden State that makes it such an incredible album. These are songs that meant a lot to Zach Braff, but they also have this wider resonance. In terms of the standout songs, there is Caring Is Creepy from The Shins, Don’t Panic by Coldplay, and Zero 7’s In the Waiting Line. My favourite is Simon & Garfunkel’s The Only Living Boy in New York. I do like this idea of a soundtrack being like a mixtape. One that means a lot to the director/writer and is not just a collection of songs lazily slung together. Someone trying to get all these needle drops without really having much purpose for placing that particular song in the scene. Zach Braff is a big music fan, and all of the songs mean/meant something to him. I think it is that combination of well-known artists standing with some people may not have heard of. Nick Drake and Bonnie Sommerville standing bedside one another, as it were.
Iron & Wire’s Such Great Heights sharing sonic room with Remy Zero’s Fair. It is a fascinating soundtrack that has come back in my mind. In the same way some people are frustrated actors or directors, I am a frustrated songwriter. That dream will never be realised for me, so I guess music journalism is a way of being adjacent to that. Not a compromise, it is a connection to the music industry. Studio albums are brilliant, but there is something about a soundtrack that stands out. I would urge people to go and watch Garden State. You can stream it here. Quite hard to track down, I would recommend people rent and watch it when they can. Though it sounds hard and bleak when it comes to the synopsis – “Andrew Largeman (Zach Braff) shuffled through life in a lithium-induced coma until his mother’s death inspired a vacation from the pills to see what might happen. A moderately successful TV actor living in Los Angeles, “Large” hasn't been home to the "Garden State" in nine years. But even with 3,000 miles between them, he's been unable to escape his domineering father Gideon (Sir Ian Holm) and the silencing effect he’s had on his son from afar” -, it is actually pretty uplifting an funny. The brilliant Natalie Portman in one of her best roles. An incredible performance. The chemistry between her and Braff is an important factor when it comes to the film’s success. I want to come to some writing about the soundtrack. This feature from The Ringer was published in 2024. Marking twenty years of an essential and phenomenal soundtrack, Zach Braff, James Mercer of The Shins, Imogen Heap (Frou Frou), and more explain how it all came together. I have followed Braff’s career since and listened to soundtracks from his films. Nothing quite matches Garden State. One of the all-time great soundtracks:
“The movie hails from a steady wave of hip, successful soundtracks. The 2000s were full of them. Almost Famous, Love & Basketball, Marie Antoinette, Juno, (500) Days of Summer, and Twilight picked up where Singles, Waiting to Exhale, Romeo + Juliet, Trainspotting, and Cruel Intentions had left off in the ’90s. If you were a teenager or college kid (especially a white teenager or college kid) when Garden State came out, you probably had a copy of the album in your CD storage tower or at least knew someone who did. Maybe you loaded it onto your shiny, new iPod. You might have also read the blog Braff started as part of Garden State’s promotional campaign, where he dropped additional music suggestions, such as Ben Harper’s “Waiting on an Angel” and the Smiths’ “Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want.” (It was revealed just this week that another blog, in 2005, from future vice presidential candidate J.D. Vance, described the soundtrack as “so relevant to my life right now, and the story of a guy returning home, realizing that home isn’t what it used to be, etc., made me want to tear up.”) No matter how anyone feels about the film or its moody needle drops today, it was an irrefutable touchstone. An aura of cool hovered around the whole thing.
“What I think worked about the soundtrack was that you could put the tracks in order, so you could sort of experience the film through the music,” Braff tells The Ringer 20 years later. “This was back in an era where people actually listened to a full album, as opposed to just picking tracks like we do on streaming these days.”
For a Sundance breakout made by a sitcom star at a modest $2.5 million, Garden State surpassed every expectation. Miramax and Fox Searchlight paid a joint $5 million to acquire the film, which eventually grossed an impressive $35.8 million in just a limited release. The soundtrack—also featuring the likes of Coldplay, Simon & Garfunkel, Iron & Wine, and Thievery Corporation—went platinum without releasing any stand-alone singles. This is the story of how the album came together.
Part 1: “A Bunch of Friends Making a Mixtape”
Before Garden State, Braff was known as the goofy guy from Scrubs. He wrote the movie’s first draft in 2000, at which point he’d appeared in the films Manhattan Murder Mystery and The Broken Hearts Club. The NBC hospital comedy premiered the following year. What Braff calls a quarter-life crisis inspired the story of a depressed TV actor named Andrew Largeman who returns home to small-town New Jersey for his mother’s funeral. In the course of a few days, Andrew reconnects with old friends, meets a quirky love interest named Sam (Natalie Portman), confronts his emotionally distant father (Ian Holm), and more or less figures himself out. (The film was initially titled Large’s Ark, and the script included other story lines that Braff later cut. “It was the first screenplay I’d ever written. I didn’t know anything, really,” he says.) Garden State was part of a fertile subgenre fixated on suburban ennui, fitting in with contemporary releases like The Ice Storm, Happiness, American Beauty, The Virgin Suicides, and Ghost World.
Zach Braff (director, writer, and actor): It was sort of a fantasy—not only fantasy for the romantic relationship, but fantasy that I would have these breakthroughs that were keeping me from being myself. It was a very vulnerable thing to do. When I put it out there, I had no idea that it would resonate so much. No one did.
Dan Halsted (producer): I was an independent producer at the time, and I was consulting with Gary Gilbert, who was a new financier in Hollywood looking to put some money into scripts. He had met Natalie Portman at a charity function somewhere, and he said, “I would love to do anything with Natalie.” So I called up Natalie’s agent at CAA, and he said, “I’ve got this script by a guy on Scrubs; Jersey Films, Danny DeVito’s company, is involved, and they’re looking for financing.” I sent it right to Gary. Gary calls me the next day and goes, “I want to do this.” Zach was kind of a genius in that he sent a CD with the script. In the script, he had music cues saying, “Play this song here.” It was pretty much the final soundtrack.
Braff: The hardest thing in the world to convey with a screenplay is tone. One thing about putting songs in and giving people a mix CD back in the day was that I hoped I could convey the vibe.
Cary Brothers (“Blue Eyes”): Zach and I met in college at Northwestern. I was playing at the Hotel Cafe in the singer-songwriter scene in Los Angeles, and Zach got the funding for Garden State. He came to me and said, “Hey, can I put ‘Blue Eyes’ in Garden State?” At the time, it was a very independent film that was really under the radar.
Braff: Musicals were what got me into the business. My father loved musicals. If I had any leg up at all, it’s that since I was a tiny kid seeing so many musicals, I was aware that the right song in the right place could give people goose bumps.
Chad Fischer (composer, Garden State score): I played drums for Colin Hay, the singer from Men at Work, in the early ’90s, and we cowrote some songs together. Zach and all his buddies would come and see Colin play at Largo [in Los Angeles]. This is the late ’90s, early aughts. That’s how Zach fell in love with Colin’s solo acoustic music, and that’s how “I Just Don’t Think I’ll Ever Get Over You” made it on the soundtrack.
Colin Hay (“I Just Don’t Think I’ll Ever Get Over You,” speaking to Stereogum in 2022): I had that song, I think probably ’96 or something like that, on an album called Transcendental Highway. And it wasn’t until 10 years later, when Zach put it in the film and then Sony released it as part of the soundtrack, that people started to really notice the song. It gave me faith in myself in a way. Because I thought to myself, “Well, I was right. It was a good song, and people did like it if they were exposed to it.” And that’s what Scrubs and the Garden State film did. It just helped youngsters discover that they liked some of these tunes I was doing.
Brothers: I played that Coldplay record [“Don’t Panic”] for Zach for the first time because my roommate worked at Capitol Records, [Coldplay’s U.S. label]. I was just such a music nerd. There were a few of us who were friends who would go up to Zach’s house with stacks of CDs. He would describe a scene, and we would throw out a bunch of ideas. It had the energy of a bunch of friends making a mixtape. Nobody was telling us what to do.
Halsted: Zach wrote to all the artists and gave them a whole point of view and said, “Look, I only have this amount of money.”
Robert Kraft (former president, Fox Music): I recommended explaining that he couldn’t afford the prices he was being quoted but desperately wanted their songs. This was a Baz Luhrmann hack that I borrowed.
Braff: When I had my initial Sundance cut of the movie, you can pay a fee for the music just to use it at a festival. I remember being told, “Don’t get too attached to all this music. You’re not going to get Coldplay. You’re not going to get Simon & Garfunkel. You’re not going to get Nick Drake. We just don’t have the money for that.” With the help of [music supervisor] Amanda Demme, who did the business side of all of these deals, little by little we started getting them.
Halsted: We paid maybe $2,500 to $5,000 a song. Back then, a soundtrack song was probably a minimum of $25,000 to $50,000.”.
Though Garden State is an amazing film, and kudos to Zach Braff for all it achieved! It is hard enough to write and direct a film, but turning in such a commanding, complex and compelling performance whilst directing yourself and others is a feat! Rare that a soundtrack has this whole other life. Becomes bigger than the film. Last year, there was this special anniversary celebration of the soundtrack. Artists included on the soundtrack performed. On stage were Imogen Heap, and The Shins (among others). Zach Braff there. Natalie Portman also there. Showing how important the film and its music is to her. An incredible celebration in Los Angeles, The Guardian were in attendance. Twenty-two years after the film came out, there is a generation that may not be aware. Now, Zach Braff is this celebrated actor, producer, writer and director. His latest film (as an actor), Clean Hands, looks amazing. A far cry in terms of the role he plays in Garden State. I wonder if he thinks back to 2004 and when that film was released to the world. Whether he knew the soundtrack would connect with so many people and be discussed all these years later:
“It’s been two decades since the release of Garden State, Zach Braff’s film about an alienated young actor’s struggle to find meaning in life. But while the movie itself became a cult classic, perhaps its biggest legacy is its soundtrack, which went platinum, won a Grammy and became a cultural touchstone among a certain subset of the American population.
So it was no surprise that, when Braff announced a 20th-anniversary concert celebrating the album, at which each of its dozen or so artists would perform, tickets were going for hundreds of dollars. This was Woodstock for elder millennials – at least a certain swath of us who, when the soundtrack came out in 2004, found an outlet for our big teenage feelings in bands like the Shins, Frou Frou and Iron and Wine. All three were among the performers at Los Angeles’s Greek Theater on Saturday evening (technically nearly 21 years after the album’s release). The concert raised money for the Midnight Mission, a century-old LA charity fighting homelessness.
One of the film’s most memorable scenes features Natalie Portman handing Braff a pair of headphones, telling him the music he’s about to hear “will change your life, I swear”. At the show on Saturday, it was clear her words hadn’t just applied to Braff’s character. The Greek was packed with fans, including a strong contingent of cool-dad types; there were beanies, graying sideburns and jeans whose width would make gen Z shudder. Several people were wearing trash bags in honor of another of the film’s best-known scenes.
Braff, who curated the soundtrack and organized the concert, began the night by lamenting Portman’s absence – she couldn’t make it from her home in Paris, he said, as she joined him on stage. She was one of a host of surprise guests, who also included Danny DeVito, Sarah Paulson, and Donald Faison and Sarah Chalke of Scrubs, where Braff got his start. Taylor Swift was not there, but she contributed a signed guitar to be auctioned for the cause.
The first performance was the last track on the album: Winding Road, an acoustic pop song by Bonnie Somerville. Then came Sophie Barker with In the Waiting Line, Zero 7’s mellow contribution, and Cary Brothers with a robust rendition of his song Blue Eyes. Clips from the film and behind-the-scenes footage played as the stage was rearranged between artists.
The Birmingham, Alabama, alternative band Remy Zero reunited for the first time in 15 years to play Fair, from the film’s soundtrack, as well as Save Me, which didn’t appear in the film. “The only person in this world that could get us together is Zach Braff,” said the band’s singer, August Cinjun Tate. Thievery Corporation followed with an infectious performance of the sitar-led Lebanese Blond.
The evening wasn’t without its technical difficulties; there were a few false starts to songs, occasional random audio feedback, and at one point the videos stopped working, so Braff came on stage and did a little dance to fill time. But the minor slip-ups only enhanced the relaxed, casual atmosphere; despite the 6,000-seat outdoor venue, it felt a bit like we were all in Braff’s living room as his favorite artists performed, not out of a sense of duty but for the joy of it. That joy extended to the crowd, who gave standing ovations to virtually every musician. I’d known that people loved the soundtrack in 2004, but I hadn’t been prepared for how that enthusiasm had endured.
IN THIS PHOTO: Natalie Portman and Zach Braff/PHOTO CREDIT: Matt Winkelmeyer
Among the evening’s highlights was Colin Hay’s performance of the heartbreaking I Just Don’t Think I’ll Ever Get Over You on a booming 12-string guitar. At 71, he performs with a particular gravitas, and his voice is as powerful as ever. Simon and Garfunkel were shockingly unavailable to play The Only Living Boy in New York, so the Milk Carton Kids covered it, with Braff noting that its chorus, about being gone without knowing where, felt appropriate: “I suppose that’s what I was really trying to write about in my early 20s, this abyss that I felt in my chest.” He added: “I couldn’t see it at the time, but 20 years later I think I can. Writing this story was definitely a callout to the universe … I was looking for like-minded souls who know that sometimes it helps if you can manage to laugh through some of those tears.” He applauded the community that had formed around the film, the tattoos and wedding proposals he’d witnessed, “the babies that were made – you know that you had sex to this soundtrack. ”Next came Iron and Wine’s Sam Beam with his cover of the Postal Service’s Such Great Heights, followed by another of the night’s high points: a duet with Madison Cunningham on Nick Drake’s One of These Things First, with a tease of the Sesame Street theme song that fit oddly well. Imogen Heap and Guy Sigsworth, AKA Frou Frou, reunited for Let Go, as well as an improvised piece based on a melody provided by the audience. But perhaps the most striking performance of the night was another cover: the jazz musician Laufey’s version of Coldplay’s Don’t Panic, with just piano and vocals. Building from a delicate introduction to a powerful chorus, she transformed the two-minute song into a sweeping, dynamic piece that deserves its own release.
Of course, the Shins were saved for last, performing New Slang – as heard in Portman’s headphones – and Caring Is Creepy. The soundtrack helped launch the band’s career; as the singer, James Mercer, said: “It changed my life, I’ll tell you that.”
Reflecting on that line, I found myself unexpectedly moved. Garden State came out at a moment when music was transitioning from physical to digital – it was a brief period in which songs were increasingly accessible, but there was still work involved in tracking them down, and a sense of pride in thinking you’d found an artist your friends might not know about. There was value in obscurity, or the perception of it.
Or maybe that’s just how everyone feels at age 19. Either way, the soundtrack offered many listeners that crate-digging experience – an introduction to artists like the Shins, or even Nick Drake, whose posthumous star was rising – and an invitation to seek out more music that would change their lives.
It’s hard to imagine a film character saying that line today; it’s too fluffy, too idealistic, too 2004. But I’d almost forgotten the feeling existed at all. On Saturday night, for a few hours, it came back”.
I remember lots of people dumping on Garden State and Zach Braff. It was fashionable for some to take shots at it. Almost like some had to defend the film. The film is remarkable and should be shown more love (critical reception was largely positive)! Its soundtrack is the stuff of legends. Few directors who can put together such a brilliant and impactful soundtrack. Zach Braff instantly ranked alongside the legends of film. In 2004, Treble Zine reviewed Garden State’s soundtrack:
“There are maybe a handful of people in the television and film industry who can put together a soundtrack effectively. John Hughes and his people were the masters of the 80’s high school soundtrack for sure, but who has met the challenges in our time? One of my votes would go to Joss Whedon. He can hit or miss when it comes to background music, that inconsequential song playing in the background of a club or bar, but when it comes to the `big moments’ (to steal from his writing), he can do very little wrong with his song selections. And besides, he had Aimee Mann, The Breeders, and Cibo Matto guest star on his show. Quentin Tarantino is another one, especially after the two Kill Bill soundtracks, who excels at creating a meaningful and powerful soundtrack.
There is, however, a new king, an executive soundtrack producer to which all others will and should be measured. That person is Zach Braff, the talented writer and director of Garden State. I have to believe that Braff soundtracked the film as he was writing it, picking particular songs that he felt fit the mood of what he was trying to write and picture, or possibly even writing scenes whilst listening to particular songs, thereby entwining them forever. Most of the songs are from a few years ago, some of them a lot longer ago, but most from the time that he was probably writing the film. The soundtrack and film open with the jangly slow guitars of Coldplay’s “Don’t Panic.” The tone and lyrics of the song perfectly fit the mood of the film in its opening minutes, showing Braff as the numb and medicated loner, Andrew Largeman. The Shins’ “Caring is Creepy,” from their first album, Oh, Inverted World, is set to highlight the first feelings of freedom that Largeman feels after taking his grandfather’s motorcycle out for a spin.
Zero 7’s “In the Waiting Line” plays during a party Largeman’s friend Mark throws. As the soothing music plays, contradictory to the activity of the party but in sync with the passivity of Largeman, the party rushes around the stoic main character, showing his detachment from the world, and how, as the medicine leaves his body, he begins to thaw to the world around him. The Shins make another appearance in a moment that some might view as a forced way to get another song in, but that I see as one of the most real moments in the film. In a doctor’s waiting room, Large meets Sam, played by Natalie Portman. She is wearing headphones and so Large asks her what she happens to be playing. As has happened many times in my life, rather than explain it, she simply places the headphones on Large’s ears explaining that he’s “gotta hear this song, it will change your life, I promise you.” The song is the astounding “New Slang.” As I was watching the film in a Seattle theater, as soon as the opening strains of the song played, a voice behind me said, “Of course.” Yeah, my thoughts exactly. The song is brilliant and beautiful and there could be no other Shins song that would have been as effective.
Colin Hay, formerly of Men at Work, contributes a surprisingly powerful ballad called “I Don’t Think I’ll Ever Get Over You,” another case of putting the right song in the right place. I won’t tell you all of them so as to not spoil the movie if you haven’t seen it. Underappreciated band Remy Zero has the distinction of being one of two bands that have the most memorable associates to the film’s scenes. The chorus to “Fair,” from the great album Villa Elaine, plays as Sam offers to tap dance for Large in front of a huge fireplace. It’s a touching and poignant event in the film and comes right after a moment that could easily bring one to tears. The lyrics, “So what if you catch me / Where would we land?” are central to the entire story.
The king of whispery singer / songwriters, Nick Drake, shows up with the great “One of These Things First,” originally from his album, Bryter Later. It seems as though contributions from this tragically deceased artist are mandatory in soundtracks, but again, here it’s placed wisely, taken care of, and loved. Thievery Corporation’s “Lebanese Blonde” is the closest thing to a Quentin Tarantino homage that the movie and soundtrack could come up with. In a nod to Reservoir Dogs, (somewhat, and somewhat Goodfellas, p.s. I know that’s not Tarantino), this song plays as Large, Mark, and Sam saunter in slow motion through a hotel’s hallways on a mission. (By the way, Goodfellas is not one of those soundtracks that is done particularly well, in my estimation. Most of the songs are cliché, obvious, and clumsy, especially movie closer “Layla.” The coda to the song sounds like it was designed for closing credits. Come on, let’s get a little more creative, shall we?) Simon & Garfunkel’s “The Only Living Boy in New York” plays as the trio return from their mission and has another set of lyrics that weigh heavy on the film: “Half of the time we’re gone but we don’t know where.”
Sam Beam, a.k.a. Iron & Wine, brings his b-side treasure to the world with his rendition of the Postal Service’s “Such Great Heights.” I had a slight problem with this song’s inclusion and placement in the film, but I will admit that it’s probably only I that has this problem. The song hit me so emotionally the first time I heard it that I was forever changed by it, just like Sam mentions about “New Slang.” I felt that the scene that the song accompanied should have had the same emotional weight the song had for me. This is a purely personal observation and takes nothing away from either the song or the movie. In fact, now that I think about it, it makes the earlier “New Slang” scene even more real. I did this same thing, placed headphones on a friend to force her to listen to this song that hit me so hard. After hearing it, she approached me somewhat teary-eyed, sarcastically said, “Thanks a lot,” and was also changed by it.
Frou Frou is the one other band, besides Remy Zero, that has the most memorable associations. First of all, it helps that the song is used in the commercials for the film. Secondly, you combine the beautiful voice of Imogen Heap with the production of Guy Sigsworth, who helped Bjork with a few singles, and you’re bound to get a good song. Combine that good song with the most emotionally charged scene of the film and you have a near perfect moment. What vaults it to perfection is the fact that, yet again, the lyrics match the event to a tee. The soundtrack ends with “Winding Road” by Bonnie Somerville, normally a song that I would dismiss as just a song for the rolling credits, a la “Layla,” it also has apt lyrics in “Someday we’ll find our way home.” For those of you who have seen the movie, you know what she means, in more ways than one.
Zach Braff, you talented S.O.B., I am in awe of your talents. Please make more films, and don’t let anyone mess with the soundtracks”.
As Scrubs is on its new run and gathering spectacular praise, I was thinking about its star Zach Braff’s filmography. Remembering when I watched Garden State back in 2004. How its soundtrack obviously complimented the film wonderfully, though it is also this standalone wonder. One of the very best soundtracks ever. It is hard it track a copy to vinyl in the U.K. This is the kind of soundtrack I’d love to see reissued to vinyl, C.D., and even cassette. Introduce it to a whole new generation. As so many younger listeners are abandoning algorithm-driven streaming and want the physicality and warmth of physical formats, film soundtracks like Garden State’s need to be readily available. Let’s hope it does get reissued at some point, as it proudly stands alongside…
THE greatest film soundtracks ever.
