In 1975, Jaws changed cinema forever. Not only did it launch the era of the modern blockbuster—becoming the first film to gross over $100 million—it also cemented one of the most enduring creative partnerships in film history: director Steven Spielberg and composer John Williams. Now, fifty years later, this definitive anniversary edition pays tribute to one of the most iconic and influential scores ever written—a score that helped salvage a troubled production, terrified generations of moviegoers, and redefined how music could shape tension, drive narrative, and embed itself into the cultural consciousness.
Based on Peter Benchley’s bestselling novel, Jaws tells the story of a seaside town terrorized by a great white shark, and the trio of men—Chief Brody (Roy Scheider), marine biologist Hooper (Richard Dreyfuss), and grizzled fisherman Quint (Robert Shaw)—who set out to destroy it. Spielberg’s taut direction, the clever screenplay, and the film’s primal sense of danger made it an instant phenomenon. But behind the scenes, things were far from smooth. The production’s infamous mechanical shark—nicknamed “Bruce”—frequently malfunctioned, leaving Spielberg with limited usable footage of the creature.
Enter John Williams.
Having already worked with Spielberg on The Sugarland Express, Williams was brought in to give the mostly-unseen shark a sonic presence. When he first played his now-legendary two-note motif (E–F, E–F…) on the piano, Spielberg laughed, thinking it was a joke. But when performed by a full orchestra, those primitive, alternating notes took on an elemental, unstoppable power—an embodiment of instinctual, inhuman hunger. It was then that Spielberg realized the score would be the film’s secret weapon.
At its core, Jaws is a masterclass in musical minimalism. The theme that opens the film and the score is deceptively simple, yet Williams extracts a tremendous range of nuance and terror from it. Rather than reflecting the audience’s fear, the motif expresses the shark’s predatory drive—accelerating, intensifying, and pulsing with violent purpose. The music is the shark. It fills in for the creature, turning suspense into horror.
Just as effective is Williams’ use of silence. The theme’s absence in certain scenes—such as false alarms—heightens anxiety by subverting audience expectations. Viewers quickly learn that when the music isn’t playing, the shark isn’t present. That lesson, once internalized, makes the theme’s return all the more terrifying. This interplay between presence and absence became key to the film’s psychological impact.
But Jaws offers far more than its famous motif. The score has surprising emotional and stylistic breadth. A sprightly Americana theme for Amity Island (“Tourist on the Menu”) reflects Williams’ gift for warm, melodic writing—a gift he would later refine in scores like E.T. and Born on the Fourth of July. But the true heart of the score lies in the music for the Orca expedition. As the three men set out to hunt the shark, Williams introduces an adventurous, seafaring theme. In cues like “Out to Sea,” “One Barrel Chase,” and the iconic “Man Against Beast,” Williams channels the spirit of old Hollywood seafaring swashbucklers, creating a sense of camaraderie, sport, and determination—one that slowly gives way to dread and desperation as the hunt turns deadly.
Tracks like “Man Against Beast” and “The Underwater Siege” showcase Williams’ orchestral mastery: full of dynamic motion, bracing tension, and rhythmic precision. Even the quieter moments—like “Father and Son” and “End Titles”—reveal his sensitivity to character and emotional nuance, elements too often overshadowed by the film’s visceral thrills. Especially noteworthy is “The Indianapolis Story,” which underscores Robert Shaw’s haunting monologue with ghostly restraint, amplifying the trauma without ever overwhelming the performance.
The final battle with the shark is a tour de force of musical storytelling—escalating tension, triumphant brass, and cathartic release culminating in the beast’s explosive demise. The score’s dramatic arc mirrors the film’s structure: a gradual escalation from creeping menace to epic confrontation, elevated at every turn by Williams’ symphonic storytelling.
The original 1975 soundtrack album was not a direct representation of the film score. Instead, Williams re-recorded and rearranged selections into a 35-minute suite designed for album listening. While expertly performed and assembled, it omitted much of the darker, moodier material and key narrative cues. For decades, this was the only way audiences could experience the music outside the film.
In 2000, Decca released a 51-minute expansion using the original film recordings for the first time, coinciding with the movie’s 25th anniversary. Though a breakthrough, this edition was hampered by sonic issues—including hiss, clicks, and the narrow stereo field of the original three-channel tapes.
Then, in 2015, Intrada Records delivered what became the most complete and polished edition to date: a 2-CD set featuring both the original score and the 1975 album, sourced from new transfers and digitally restored for superior clarity. It included alternate takes, previously unreleased cues, and offered a vastly improved listening experience. That release, long regarded as definitive, forms the foundation of this new 50th anniversary edition.
This new set by Renovatio Records exists not to reinvent the wheel, but to preserve and present Williams' score with the respect it deserves. The music is reprogrammed to follow the film’s narrative more closely, honoring its legacy while offering the clearest and most dramatic presentation to date.
It also reaffirms a longstanding truth: Jaws may not be the most immediately accessible album in Williams’ discography—it lacks the sweeping romance of Superman, the lyrical warmth of E.T., or the breakneck energy of Raiders of the Lost Ark—but it stands among his most intelligent, daring, and precisely crafted works. Few scores have so thoroughly redefined a genre. Fewer still have entered the cultural imagination so deeply.
With this definitive edition, Jaws resurfaces in all its terrifying, thrilling, and magnificent glory—a musical masterpiece finally presented the way it was always meant to be heard.
Track listing:
Cover Artwork:
Credits:
|
Track Title |
Slate and Cue Title |
|
1. Main Title and First Victim |
1m1 Main Titles 1m3 The First Victim 1m5 Remains on the Beach |
|
2. Father and Son |
4m1R Father and Son |
|
3. Night Search |
5m2-6m0 Ben Gardner’s Boat |
|
4. Tourists on the Menu |
6m1 The Montage |
|
5. Into the Estuary |
2m2 The Empty Raft (Edited) 7m1 Into the Estuary (Edited) |
|
6. Out to Sea |
8m2 Out to Sea (Album) |
|
7. Man Against Beast |
9m1-10m0 Man Against Beast (Edited) |
|
8. The Indianapolis Story |
10m1 Quint's Tale |
|
9. One Barrel Chase |
11m5-12m0 The Great Chase |
|
10. Three Barrels Under |
12m1 Three Barrels Under (Edited) 12m4R Quint Thinks It Over (Edited) |
|
11. Preparing the Cage |
13M1 Work Montage |
|
12. The Underwater Siege |
13M3 The Shark Hits The Cage 8M3-9M0 A Tug on the Line (Edited) |
|
13. Hand to Hand Combat |
14M2 Blown to Bits |
|
14. End Titles |
14m3 End Titles |
