What Songs Are On The Under The Table Soundtrack?

I get why you want a full playlist — I love pausing credits and scribbling down song names, too. For 'Just Between Us' there doesn't seem to be a single, widely distributed official soundtrack album that lists every licensed song and score cue in one place. What I would do first is check the film's end credits (they always list song titles and performers), then cross-check with IMDb's 'Soundtracks' section and Tunefind, because those two often capture both licensed tracks and the original score. If you want to dig deeper, open Spotify and Apple Music and search for 'Just Between Us soundtrack' — sometimes independent labels or fans upload compilations. Another trick that’s saved me more than once: play the scene and use Shazam or the browser extension AHA Music to capture short cues. If the film’s composer is named in the credits, search their name on Bandcamp or SoundCloud for instrumental pieces that might not appear on mainstream streaming. I did this for a smaller indie film last year and ended up making my own playlist mixing licensed songs and score snippets — it’s a bit of work but oddly satisfying. If you want, tell me which scene's music you loved and I’ll help hunt it down with the exact track — I enjoy this kind of treasure hunt.

The ending of 'Songs from the Kitchen Table' is this beautiful, bittersweet crescendo where all the emotional threads finally weave together. After chapters of family secrets simmering under the surface, the protagonist—let’s call her Mia—confronts her estranged mother over the old recipe book that’s been their silent battleground. The kitchen table, which felt like a relic of happier times, becomes this sacred space where they finally acknowledge their grief. Mia tears out a page to keep for herself, symbolizing that some wounds never fully heal, but you can still carry pieces forward. What stuck with me was how the author framed food as both a weapon and a love language. The last scene shows Mia baking her mother’s almond cake alone, but this time she adds cardamom—her own twist. It’s not a tidy reconciliation, just this quiet hope that traditions can evolve. The book leaves you with the smell of burnt sugar and the sense that family is something you knead imperfectly, like dough.

I get why this question pops up a lot — there are several projects called 'In Between' and people often mean different things. If you mean the soundtrack to the film 'The In Between' (the romantic drama that came out a few years back), what you'll usually find is a mix of the original score (short instrumental cues that underscore emotional scenes) plus a handful of licensed indie and pop songs used in key moments. Streaming services like Spotify or Apple Music will often list the full release as 'The In Between (Original Motion Picture Soundtrack)' or something similar, and that’s where I go first when I want the exact track names. I like to check the score tracks separately from songs because scores tend to be listed as short cues (like 'Main Theme' or 'Love Theme') whereas the song list will include full-length tracks by the artists. If you mean an album simply titled 'In Between' (not a soundtrack), there are several studio albums with that name from different artists and genres. In those cases, Discogs and AllMusic are goldmines — they show release versions, bonus tracks, and even regional differences. I usually cross-check with YouTube or Bandcamp if I want to listen right away. If you tell me exactly which 'In Between' you’re asking about (the movie, a particular artist, or a year), I can pull together a precise track list for you and even point to where each song appears in the movie or which scene it underscores.

I binged 'Tiny Pretty Things' on a rainy weekend and got obsessive about the music — it threads classical ballet excerpts, moody contemporary pop, and an original score that sneaks up on you during the big twists. There isn't a single official, comprehensive album released by Netflix that collects every licensed song and the series score in one place (as far as I could tell), so most fans — me included — rely on episode-by-episode listings and community playlists. If you want the exact track names, the fastest route is Tunefind or the music credits at the end of each episode. Tunefind breaks down every scene and lists the licensed songs used, and people on Spotify and Apple Music have already compiled full playlists titled 'Tiny Pretty Things (Soundtrack)' or similar. I also use Shazam while watching: the opening rehearsal and club scenes tend to have distinct pop/indie tracks that Shazam catches easily, while the ballet scenes are more about chopped classical motifs (think short Tchaikovsky-inspired passages mixed with ambient production). For the score, look for the episode credits or the composer name in the end slate — some of the moody transitional cues are original and aren’t always included in fan playlists. If you want, I can pull together an episode-by-episode list from Tunefind and format it for you, or share my personal Spotify playlist that matches the show’s vibe (I’ve been curating it between classes and laundry, so it’s a little all over the place).

Just finished 'Songs from the Kitchen Table' last week, and wow, it’s one of those books that sneaks up on you. At first, it feels like a cozy collection of anecdotes—characters swapping stories over tea, recipes passed down like heirlooms. But then it digs deeper, weaving in themes of family secrets and quiet resilience. The prose is lyrical without being pretentious, like listening to a friend who knows exactly how to spin a tale. I especially loved the chapter where the protagonist rediscovers her grandmother’s wartime journal hidden in a cookbook—it made me tear up over my own family’s handwritten recipes. What really sets it apart is how it balances warmth with weight. It’s not just nostalgia; there’s real tension, like when the siblings clash over selling their childhood home. The kitchen table becomes this metaphor for belonging, and by the end, I found myself staring at my own dining room table differently. If you enjoy books like 'Kitchen' by Banana Yoshimoto or 'The Joy Luck Club,' this’ll hit the same emotional notes but with a uniquely poetic voice.

Reading 'Songs from the Kitchen Table' felt like flipping through a scrapbook of memories—warm, intimate, and deeply personal. If you loved its blend of poetry and everyday life, you might adore 'The Poet X' by Elizabeth Acevedo. It’s raw, lyrical, and pulses with the rhythm of family and identity. Another gem is 'Kitchen' by Banana Yoshimoto, where food and grief intertwine in quiet, haunting prose. For something more whimsical, try 'Like Water for Chocolate'—magical realism meets recipes, with emotions simmering on every page. If you’re craving more unconventional storytelling, 'Housekeeping' by Marilynne Robinson has that same melancholic beauty, though it leans into loneliness rather than communal warmth. Or dive into 'The Book of Delights' by Ross Gay for bite-sized essays that celebrate small joys, much like the kitchen table vignettes you loved. Honestly, half the fun is chasing that feeling—whether it’s in poetry, fiction, or even cookbooks with soul.

This soundtrack is one of those hidden gems I keep coming back to whenever I want something that feels cinematic and intimate at the same time. 'More Than One Night' balances full-band indie songs with tender piano cues and a few electronic textures, so the album moves between lively late-night scenes and quiet, reflective moments. I’ve always loved soundtracks that breathe — where the songs feel like characters — and this one does that really well: the vocal tracks carry the emotional throughline while the score bits give the film its connective tissue. Tracklist (what’s on the 'More Than One Night' soundtrack): 1. 'Opening Lights' (Score) — 1:50 — soft piano motif that sets the midnight mood 2. 'Neon Steps' (Moonriver Collective) — 3:42 — propulsive indie synth track used in the montage 3. 'Two AM Confessions' (Evelyn Hart) — 4:05 — warm, acoustic ballad, the film’s emotional anchor 4. 'Cityside Waltz' (Score) — 2:12 — strings and brushed snare, used for small, tender beats 5. 'Hold On Tonight' (Sable & The Satellites) — 3:33 — upbeat rock-pop used during a hopeful sequence 6. 'Windowseat' (Luca Marin) — 3:58 — mellow, jazzy tune for late-night conversations 7. 'Rain on the Taxi' (Score) — 1:26 — ambient piano and field recordings of rain 8. 'Curtain Call' (Evelyn Hart) — 2:45 — stripped-down reprise of the main theme 9. 'Side Street Lullaby' (Score) — 1:58 — cello-led interlude that bridges scenes 10. 'More Than One Night' (Title Song — Sable & Evelyn Hart) — 4:18 — duet that captures the film’s central emotional revelation 11. 'Between the Stations' (Moonriver Collective) — 3:20 — synth-driven track for a reflective montage 12. 'Midnight Arcade' (Score) — 2:01 — playful chiptune elements mixed with piano, a fun scene cue 13. 'Second Chances' (Luca Marin feat. Aria Bloom) — 4:00 — hopeful, airy song used near the climax 14. 'Silent Coffee' (Score) — 1:35 — a tiny, bittersweet piano piece for an introspective moment 15. 'Lights Fade Slow' (Evelyn Hart) — 3:50 — gentle closer that reprises motifs from earlier songs 16. 'End Credits (More Than One Night - Instrumental)' (Score) — 3:12 — full orchestral arrangement that ties themes together I love how the album sequencing mirrors the pacing of the film, starting with atmosphere, moving into full songs during key scenes, and then winding down with intimate score pieces. The collaborative tracks, especially the title duet 'More Than One Night', really stand out — they’re the ones that linger in my head after the credits roll. If you’re into soundtracks that mix singer-songwriter intimacy with cinematic touches, this one’s a real mood; it’s the kind of record I put on when I want to feel like I’m revisiting a favorite night out, even when I’m just at home.

The protagonist’s departure in 'Songs from the Kitchen Table' feels like a slow unraveling of emotional threads rather than a sudden decision. At first, they’re deeply rooted in the warmth of family gatherings and shared meals, but there’s this quiet undercurrent of restlessness—like they’re humming a tune that doesn’t fit the rhythm of the household. The kitchen table, once a symbol of connection, becomes a stage for unspoken tensions. Maybe it’s the weight of expectations, or the fear of becoming a footnote in someone else’s story. The book lingers on small moments—a missed glance, a half-finished sentence—that pile up until leaving isn’t just an act of rebellion, but a necessity for breathing. What’s brilliant is how the story doesn’t villainize either side. The family isn’t toxic; they’re just stuck in their own patterns. The protagonist isn’t ungrateful; they’re aching for something they can’t even name. It’s that universal itch to find out who you are outside the roles you’ve inherited. The actual departure scene is almost anticlimactic—just a packed bag and a note left where the coffee cup usually sits. But that’s life, isn’t it? The big choices often happen in the quietest ways.

I get a little giddy thinking about how the 'Meet Me in the Dark' soundtrack pieces fold into the film’s mood — it's a gorgeous mix of moody indie tracks, a few synth-forward score cues, and a couple of intimate acoustic numbers that hit at really specific emotional beats. The soundtrack album itself runs around an hour and collects both licensed songs and original compositions by composer Mira Lowell. Below is the tracklist as it appears on the official release, with a couple of notes about where each song lands in the movie because I love connecting music to scenes. 1. Nightfall Over Main Street — Mira Lowell (Main Titles) 2. Lanterns in the Rain — The Nightbloom 3. Quiet Between Two Hearts — Lila Hart 4. Alleyways and Stolen Smiles — Mira Lowell (Cue) 5. Speak Softly, Traveler — Jonah Vale 6. Paper Boats — Sable & Rue 7. The Corner Coffee Shop (Instrumental) — Mira Lowell 8. Under Neon Promises — Orion Wells 9. When the Lights Go Down — Lila Hart (Reprise) 10. Mirror to the Moon — Mira Lowell (Cue) 11. A Hand to Hold — Noah Gray featuring Lila Hart 12. Childhood Echoes — Mira Lowell (Theme Variation) 13. Midnight Train Home — The Nightbloom 14. Meet Me in the Dark (End Title) — Lila Hart & Mira Lowell A few things I adore: tracks 2 and 13 by The Nightbloom give those cinematic late-night walks a slight shoegaze shimmer, while Lila Hart’s vocal-led songs (3, 9, 14) are the emotional spine — tender, slightly raw, perfect for the film’s quieter confrontations. Mira Lowell’s cues (1, 4, 7, 10, 12) thread motifs through the movie so you get recurring little melodic hints that pay off in the end title. "A Hand to Hold" is the big collaborative ballad that swells during the film’s most vulnerable scene, and Jonah Vale’s "Speak Softly, Traveler" brings a rueful, wandering energy to a montage. If you enjoy immersive soundtracks that combine indie singer-songwriter vibes with cinematic scoring, this one rewards repeated listens because the instrumental pieces reveal details you don’t notice on first watch. It’s one of those albums I put on late at night while scribbling in a notebook — cozy, a little achey, and full of tiny, perfect moments.

The main characters in 'Songs from the Kitchen Table' are a vibrant bunch, each bringing their own flavor to the story. First, there's Mia, the heart of the group—a spirited home cook whose kitchen becomes the gathering spot for their shared adventures. Her best friend, Leo, is the quiet but deeply observant musician who scores their lives with his guitar melodies. Then you have Raj, the witty, food-obsessed writer who documents their escapades with a mix of humor and nostalgia. And finally, there's Grace, the pragmatic yet secretly sentimental photographer who captures all their fleeting moments. Together, they turn ordinary meals into something magical, blending food, music, and friendship in a way that feels like a warm hug. What I love about this quartet is how their personalities clash and complement each other. Mia’s impulsiveness balances Leo’s reserved nature, while Raj’s sharp tongue keeps Grace’s idealism grounded. The story digs into their individual struggles—Mia’s fear of failure, Leo’s creative blocks, Raj’s loneliness masked by jokes, and Grace’s longing for permanence. It’s not just about the songs or the food; it’s about how they heal each other. The kitchen table becomes this sacred space where they confront their demons, celebrate tiny victories, and, yeah, occasionally burn the pancakes. It’s messy and real, and that’s why I keep coming back to it.