The Devil’s Chord: How Ludwig Göransson and Ryan Coogler Reimagined the Blues for ‘Sinners’
The Mississippi Delta in 1932 was a landscape of sweltering heat, profound hardship, and, according to local folklore, a place where the barrier between the mortal coil and the supernatural was paper-thin. It is into this crucible that filmmaker Ryan Coogler has thrust his latest cinematic endeavor, Sinners. A genre-bending vampire film that transcends the tropes of the horror medium, Sinners serves as a vessel for exploring the intersection of cultural history, the myth of the crossroads, and the electrifying, often dangerous evolution of the blues.
At the heart of the film’s sonic identity is Oscar-winning composer Ludwig Göransson, whose task was as daunting as it was deeply personal. Tasked with scoring a film centered on a young blues guitarist, Göransson found himself moving far beyond his usual compositional comfort zone. The result is a haunting, chronologically fluid soundscape that bridges the gap between the acoustic grit of the pre-war South and the expansive, experimental possibilities of modern cinema.
A Legacy of Strings and Supernatural Folklore
For Göransson, the project was a homecoming of sorts. "I grew up with blues around me," the Swedish composer told IndieWire. "My dad is a blues guitar player who put a guitar in my hands when I was six and actually wanted to name me Albert after the great Albert King. So, this hit close to home."
The connection was equally visceral for Ryan Coogler. With ancestral roots deeply embedded in Mississippi, Coogler was not interested in a surface-level homage to the blues. He wanted to excavate the cultural significance of the genre and the supernatural mythology that has long surrounded it—most notably the legend of Robert Johnson, the seminal bluesman who purportedly sold his soul to the devil at a crossroads in exchange for unmatched musical genius.
In Sinners, this legend is given a fresh, dark twist. The narrative follows Sammie Moore, a young blues prodigy portrayed by newcomer Miles Caton. Sammie’s electrifying debut at a juke joint in Clarksdale—owned by his twin cousins, Smoke and Stack, played by Michael B. Jordan—becomes a beacon, attracting both benevolent and malevolent forces. The music is not merely a background element; it is a character, a catalyst for the film’s supernatural stakes.
The Journey to the Delta: Authenticity Through Research
To capture the raw, untamed spirit of the music, Göransson and Coogler embarked on a pilgrimage. They traveled from Memphis to the heart of the Delta in Clarksdale, accompanied by members of the music team and Göransson’s father. This was not merely a scouting trip; it was an immersion. They met with local blues musicians, absorbing the cadence, the history, and the lived experience that birthed the genre.
Göransson’s perspective on the music was fundamentally shifted during this process. "I think what was so interesting about Ryan’s concept of this music is that when you hear it today on the old recordings, it sounds like ‘dog shit,’" Göransson admitted, referencing the degradation of early wax cylinder and shellac recordings. "But these were not old men singing at the time. They were young guys. They were dangerous. Their music was edgy. It was ‘the devil’s music.’ If you’re listening to this music, you’re bonding with the devil."
This realization became the North Star for the score. The music needed to sound as if it were being played for the first time in a smoky, tension-filled juke joint—sharp, immediate, and potentially lethal.
Technical Craftsmanship: The Hunt for the ‘Hero Guitar’
Central to the film’s authenticity was the instrument itself. Coogler insisted on a specific type of resonator guitar, one that predated amplification and carried a distinct, piercing resonance. Finding a 1932 Dobro Cyclops became a mission of its own. Göransson eventually tracked one down in Los Angeles, then sourced two additional units—one in Nashville and one in London—to ensure the production had backups.
Miles Caton, the film’s lead, spent three grueling months mastering the instrument. For Caton, the guitar became an extension of his character’s soul, a physical conduit for the supernatural forces at play. Göransson utilized these Dobros to build the foundation of the score, ensuring that every note echoed with the historical weight of the Depression-era Delta.
The ‘Surreal Montage’: A Technical Marvel
The most ambitious sequence in Sinners is the so-called "Surreal Montage," a bravura set piece that blends musical history, choreography, and cutting-edge cinematography. The sequence takes place at the juke joint, where Sammie performs "I Lied to You"—a song written by Göransson in collaboration with Grammy-winning songwriter Raphael Saadiq.
As the performance begins, the room undergoes a metaphysical shift. The juke joint becomes an otherworldly dimension where time collapses. The scene was captured in a single, continuous "oner" using a 65-pound IMAX camera mounted on a steadicam. The camera weaves through the space, documenting a dizzying array of performers: an African Griot playing a primitive banjo forerunner, a 1970s rocker channeling Jimi Hendrix (played by legendary blues guitarist Eric Gales), a 1980s hip-hop DJ, West Coast R&B artists, and a collision between an African ancestral dancer and a modern hip-hop prodigy.
"It took months of prep before shooting the scene, every department working together, mapping it out," Göransson explained. "I had a rough video of the take, and I wrote music to that video. And we went back on the stage, and we had one day of shooting this."
The Sound of Time and Space
The challenge, as Göransson noted, was making these disparate musical eras feel "seamless." By integrating traditional acoustic blues with the foundational beats of early hip-hop and electronic sound design, the score creates a sonic bridge that spans nearly a century.
In the final mix, the team utilized Dolby Atmos technology to place sounds strategically around the audience. "In post, with the mix, we could really play with the Atmos of music panning around you," Göransson noted. "It was very much also using modern technologies."
This synthesis of the archaic and the futuristic serves as a powerful metaphor for the blues itself—a genre that is constantly evolving, absorbing new influences while remaining anchored in the pain and resilience of its origins.
Implications for Modern Scoring
The success of Sinners hinges on its refusal to treat the blues as a museum piece. By treating it as a living, breathing, and dangerous art form, Göransson and Coogler have created a film that resonates with the urgency of a live performance. The score’s ability to move from the intimate, singular cry of a resonator guitar to a sprawling, multi-genre auditory experience highlights a new direction for high-concept film scoring.
The project demonstrates that true innovation in film music often requires a deep dive into the past. By honoring the specificities of 1932 Mississippi while leveraging the technical prowess of modern IMAX production and immersive audio, the Sinners team has set a high bar for genre filmmaking.
Conclusion
As audiences experience Sinners in theaters, they are witnessing more than just a supernatural thriller. They are experiencing a dialogue between generations. Through the lens of a young man caught between his musical gift and the shadows of the spirit world, Ryan Coogler and Ludwig Göransson have crafted an experience that is both a historical meditation and a pulse-pounding piece of modern entertainment.
The music of Sinners serves as a reminder that the blues is not just a collection of notes; it is a manifestation of the human condition—suffering, joy, and the eternal, desperate reach for something beyond ourselves. As Göransson put it, the music is as powerfully supernatural as anything else in the film, proving that when the right hands hold the guitar, the music truly can conjure the divine—or the devil.
Sinners is currently playing in theaters nationwide, inviting audiences to step into the juke joint and decide for themselves if the music is a blessing or a curse.
