Alan Ball’s criminally underappreciated HBO drama, Six Feet Under, was as much about learning to live as it was about coming to terms with death. And though the tagline for the final season was “everything ends,” the show was also a series of new beginnings.

The Fisher family is severely haunted by the loss of father and husband Nathaniel Fisher in the very first episode, but in their subsequent half-decade healing process they are also uncovering personal identities, goals, and meaning. And even as the characters age through five seasons of life’s cycles, it always seemed that the show itself wanted to push them towards eternal youthfulness.

The multi-faceted themes of the show are partially reflected in the soundtrack choices made by each episode’s directors. Whether or not creator Ball had a hand in every one of these selections it’s clear that there are threads that run through the entire series' musical backdrop. This perspective is particularly relevant to the idea of growing youthful, and within it there are a number of examples of the power of song to uplift, change and provide escape from our perpetually sinking lives.

In naming the entire series “six feet under” it was clear far before the first frame that tombstones would be carved. The strange fact that this family owned, operated, and lived in a funeral home only supported that inclination. Moreover, there was a prominent sense (especially in the younger Nate Fisher’s case) that with each passing day the characters were slipping further and further into their own future graves.

It’s not entirely surprising then that the first song we hear (other than the theme) in episode one, season one, is from an opera. In French composer Georges Bizet’s Carmen (1875), the track "L'amour est un oiseau rebelled" is part of a larger meditation on the volatile nature of love. Here the song is juxtaposed against a faux-commercial for a “Glamorous Hearse” (these initial “commercial breaks” were later dropped in favor of more varied dream sequences and quite a few musical fantasies), which reflects the dark humor of the show as well as amplifying the implication of impending disaster. The tragedy is complete a few moments later when the elder Nathaniel is abruptly killed in his brand new funeral vehicle. In a sense the Fishers are consistently struggling to come to terms with the erratic spirit of life itself.

The operatic mood is sustained throughout the next five seasons, with particular early emphasis through the use of Vivaldi and Mozart. Yet the most unforgettable musical moments are decidedly more pop in nature, from Peggy Lee to Kelly Clarkson. Even as the show presents itself as a dark, brooding indie production, its use of mood is far more varied. The inclusion of lighthearted, uplifting or pop radio music (as well as the twisted humor of the narrative and dialogue) belies the tragic undertones of the work. The aforementioned Lee, a '50s pop jazz icon, is a thematic link for the character of Nathaniel throughout the rest of the show, providing background music for his scenes with Nate especially, and establishing him as a carefree yet romantic figure. This is a consistent choice on the part of Ball, but there are many other times when music, plot, and visual poetry sublimate a mundane current of tension into something far more powerful.