There have been so many reasons why the Star Wars franchise has been so astronomically successful, and of course, one of the biggest elements is the John Williams theme song for the film, which without question has to be one of the top five (or maybe even three) most memorable songs ever included in a motion picture score. From the collective explosion of notes from the brass section of Williams’ well-oiled orchestra, to the beginning strains of the theme which fires the song cylinders in motion, to its sweeping, soaring bridge, right back to a coda that has the same intensity like the final proton torpedoes that shoot from Luke Skywalker’s X-Wing to destroy the Death Star back in that galaxy far, far away, the Star Wars Theme is melded and soldered in public consciousness.

So while John Williams’ rendition of the theme may be highly and instantly recognized and loved, it has also spawned a few versions by other artists that range from sincere to insane, credible to ridiculous, and funky hi-fi and low-fi. Covering a Star Wars tune, regardless of approach, seems to be a popular pastime that, especially in this viral, video, anyone-can-be-a-star-today age we live in, scores of people manifest with either wonderful or ridiculous results, sometimes all in the same song.

In honor of today being “May The Fourth,” a special Star Wars day of observance, here’s some of the best and worst covers of “The Theme From Star Wars” are listed here below. May the Force Be With Tune!

Grace Lee Whitney, best known to generations of Trekkies around the globe for her performance as Yeoman Janice Rand on the original NBC TV series Star Trek, died on May 1, 2015 in the small town of Coarsegold, California. She was 85. At press time, no cause of death has been released.

During Star Trek‘s first season in 1966, Whitney starred as Captain Kirk’s personal assistant, with her short skirt, intricate blonde beehive, and space-age clipboard in tow, before she was let go, but she did return for the motion pictures. While during its original run the TV show struggled somewhat in the ratings, its afterlife in syndication strengthened and the series soon become one of the most popular, iconic, and profitable programs in television history, a fever pitch of success and adoration which continues to this day. The success was a catalyst of the transition of bringing the franchise and the characters to the silver screen in 1979, and Whitney’s portrayal of Rand saw her promoted to Chief Petty Officer. She had become a lieutenant by the time she made her last appearance in a Star Trek film, in the sixth installment, The Undiscovered Country, released in 1991.

The Sopranos, one of the flagship programs of not only HBO but the entire contemporary “Golden Age of Television,” has been off the air for nine years now, but still remains a powerful catalyst and force in influencing the historic jagged shift the medium has taken on in the last 15 years or so. The mob drama, which ended its run in 2007 with a finale that is still read, dissected, and poured over for much heated debate and discussion a la the Torah, has influenced programs as rich as itself such as Breaking Bad, Boardwalk Empire, Mad Men and the latest, greatest show currently running on television, Better Call Saul.

Now, David Chase, the program’s creator, writer, and overall presence and lord of the trials and tribulations of the fictitious families in New Jersey, some of whose fates were left unknown when the final episode aired, has broken down that finale (a series finale that sent people in either exultation, uproar, or both).

Andy Fraser, an English bassist and songwriter best known for his tenure in the hard rock band Free, died on Monday. He was 62.

Weaned on early American blues like many of his other contemporary peers of the period, the London-born Fraser found a mentor in Alexis Korner, who was one of the more seminal figures of that late 1960s British blues boom by way of electricity. It was Korner who suggested Fraser, 15 at the time, to blues king John Mayall and his Bluesbreakers when the band needed a bassist. Korner then became a sort of liaison to getting Fraser, after his stint with Mayall, associated with the band he is most remembered for and went on to co-found.

Gene Gene the Dancing Machine, a regular in-house character on the zany, ridiculous quintessential slice of inane 1970s life game show The Gong Show, which was a brief and bizarre phenomenon in the annals of television, died in Pasadena, CA on Monday, according to the NY Daily News. He was 82.

The show regular — like The Unknown Comic on the show (who regularly told purposefully bad jokes with a cheap paper sack on his head, replete with badly cut out eye and mouth holes) — became iconic because of the sucked-you-in kind of surreal whimsy that the game show manifested in its heyday. The Gong Show was created by Chuck Barris, a deft creative producer who had already had massive success with similar prior programming like The Newlywed Game and The Dating Game, shows that exploited and celebrated in ribald and sometimes hilarious fashion the complexities of being in a relationship and not being in one, respectively.