Oct 28, 2021
Video Game Music — Introduction
Three specific gaming consoles had a hold on a great majority of my young childhood: Sega Genesis, PlayStation, and Nintendo 64. While I did end up obtaining an extra NES later on, it was heavily overshadowed by these other consoles in addition to the Gameboy Color.
Side note on the PlayStation before I go further, PS One is a separate console from the original but for whatever reason gets used as the name when folks talk about it. If I refer to the PS One I am talking about the later, smaller console without the ability to throw a mod on the back and prop open the lid with a pen-cap so you could play totally legitimate games on official disks that were not actually writable CDs with games copied over from rentals (because that would be illegal and we don’t do that here).
I had a real struggle working out the introduction to the innumerable writings that deserve to exit my brain on video game music, so had to dig through a CD binder of the actually-legal PS games I have and think a bit about the Sega and N64 cartridges (they are buried behind a mess of other things) that are two arms lengths away from me right now. It ultimately seems that the seed of the fixation on video game music started during those years, and although I cannot nail an exact time, I can say it probably started for me when I was about 5. It’s also hard to figure out which game had the biggest impact, or which series, or which console had the most impactful music on it.
Since this young age, however, something that drew me heavily into video games was the music present therein. Sonic is a good starting point, although I could never get too far in the first game, some of the songs are certainly well-remembered. This held true for the second (arguably the one that gets the dopamine going the best), third, and Sonic & Knuckles (or the combo with 3, with the &Knuckles’ weird “eating the cartridge on top of it” attachment method). By far, Sonic Spinball actually had the top first level track, which was admittedly all I ever got to until adulthood. Being good at the game isn’t the point! It’s the music! Although I fully acknowledge that I missed out on some better beats through my own lack of skill. ToeJam & Earl: Panic on Funkotron started the ultimate affair with funk, and I still tend to hold music today to those standards. Is it funky enough to be in Funkotron? no? is it really funky? Sometimes (that’s one of Chromeo’s covid songs, although a great majority of their work fits).
Beyond that, the most significant impact came a bit later toward holiday season of 1998 with the release of Spyro the Dragon. Any track from there works, Copeland’s bass-heavy songs were phenomenal. Oh, except Tree Tops. We don’t think about Tree Tops. The Reignited Trilogy did not reignite the fire in me for these songs initially, although I did later come to enjoy them on their own merit. There really was something about the persistent, overwhelming bass from the originals that laid down the entire framework for anything piled atop it. But not atop it like the tops of trees. There was no chasing wizards in the least PS-controller-friendly level that existed. None. There was only safe ground levels in the night with pretty colors and delightful trebly bells. Now compare that to the Reignited version in your head and I’ll ramble in the next paragraph.
In the original Dark Hollow you are met with the immediate ground-laying of the bass and the fairly gentle bells that run throughout. Drums next, and it’s relatively simple but efficiently good. Then the main bit, and you can hear it, and it is delightful. In Reignited the bass is one of the better ones on the OST, and has a good feel for being a bit more ‘real’ rather than fully synthesized. The bells are gentle. …and…where are the drums? Why is the main bit so damn quiet? This is not the Dark Hollow I remember! I’ll admit the guitar strums later are certainly delightful, and in general it does keep the spirit of a…dark hollow…alive, it’s just much less heavy-handed than I grew up with. Fortunately, Reignited does have an option to switch back to the old music, and since completing any level 100% takes long enough to hear the song in full a few times, you might as well give both a chance — you’ll only be gaining things, like sweet tunes. If you go for the headphones you can even put those sweet tunes directly into your ears. Highly recommended, at a reasonable volume. I’ve got a little bit of the tinnitus and I like that I can still hear pretty damn well, I’m going to keep it that way as long as I can.
98 also featured a game with a slight trend toward the seamless mixing of tracks in certain areas. While this was brilliantly pioneered in games by use of the iMUSE system for Monkey Island 2 by Michael Land, Kirkhope loved this effect and replicated it using another method for Banjo-Kazooie. The music was overall upbeat and silly, something Rare ended up putting into a number of their games, even keeping Kirkhope on hand as a freelancer under Playtonic for Yooka-Laylee. I can’t say any specific track from Banjo-Kazooie or even Donkey Kong 64 sticks in my head, so I would just say…generally…give those a listen. They’re certainly fun.
I’d put a picture here if I drew one. I did not. I have no text to highlight that is important. Here are words.
2000 rolled around. Only a few computers failed and the hoarding of necessities ended up being foolish. This was not a concern in either of my households, given that one was highly restricted in the kind of electronic devices around and the other involved an IT guy who was better informed than most. More importantly to this lengthy — and it’s not ending soon — bit of text, two games were released on N64 that carried the most significant weight since Spyro — The Legend of Zelda: Majora’s Mask, and Kirby 64: The Crystal Shards. Since Zelda as a series will be receiving its own series, let’s talk about some shards.
The tracks varied greatly, creating a finely tuned atmosphere for each level, each cutscene, every single menu. You were guided gently through a seemingly friendly forest, encouraged to rush faster than the sands sinking from under your adorable red shoes, invited to a funky beach party with a mad flautist, shoved into the heavy pressure of a volcano, stuffed into a snow suit to chill out on the ice, then had some cool-scary jazz to psych you up while you were coming up on the final boss. None of these needed to be looked up since the music certainly speaks for itself. By far, my favorite track is found just inside the Shiver Star where you drop into a factory. There’s a soft element of noisecore with metallic tones and fuzzy noise offset by damning trumpets and dissonant piano smashes, setting up this…really tremendous crushing atmosphere. Just get through the factory without getting smooshed, you’ll be fine. I promise.
The original Huge Xbox released in 2001 and in the Tech House we were given one from Dad’s friend (my dad is the IT guy, if it’s not clear). I quickly attached myself to Halo, but found myriad other games on it that, frankly, inspired this entire series of writings. Many of them will get their own entries, so let’s take a look at one game that is woefully unremembered.
Azurik Rise of Perathia. It was released pretty early on, although I don’t think I picked it up until later because it was cheap and looked interesting. In terms of gameplay it was needlessly difficult and repetitive. Stab, stab, slash. Stab, stab, slash. Stab, stab, slash the disk in two. The controls were subpar at best, making its platforming sections frustrating. I ended up playing it somewhat recently, only to realize some way in that it was stretched out to fit my screen. Were it not for Azurik’s absurdly wide shoulders, I would have realized sooner. It somehow became more difficult to navigate when putting it in its natural aspect ratio. The game otherwise was interesting at least, utilizing Xbox’s colored buttons as an elemental guide and having a somewhat fascinating story to it. Combining elements and gaining new ones was at least fun, allowing you to unlock new areas and complete annoying puzzles and unlock new areas and stab, stab, slash your way through hordes of enemies. Ask me what I’d do less of with this game. Go ahead.
Azurik has not seen any backward compatibility and it likely never will. There is exactly one person asking for it and they clearly do not want to play it. This, of course, means an unreasonably excellent soundtrack crafted by Jeremy Soule will not likely be rediscovered. Soule will get his praise in another piece (The Elder Scrolls, if it interests you), and I assume he will continue his work on TES, so we can appreciate his music otherwise, but it is a bit of a shame that something so well-crafted was attached to a game so bland. I highly recommend listening to the OST itself and avoiding the game — although the list in the link I provided has some songs that are cut off at weird times. Uncertain if this is from the OST itself or…who knows. It is otherwise, undeniably, epic.
A deeper interest in music was provided to me through the medium of video games when I was young. It’s easy to say, “Oh, I’ve always liked singing,” but that by itself is shallow — for me. Later on in middle school I wanted to learn to play guitar and roped the poor music teacher (who I had a horrible crush on) into teaching me. Then we talked and I somehow ended up in band. Oboe was the original intention, however there was something about money and the family not wanting to spend it, and I ended up with two antique flutes. A nice refinish on the one, after which I spent the next 6 years wearing my own acid marks into. There was a trombone somewhere in the mix too, for whatever reason, following a 300 mile move and school that saved my miserable life. Well, Jazz II was taught by the one band teacher. Another terrible crush — he has forgiven me for my creepiness, thankfully. Anyway, the man is a living embodiment of jazz, even speaking in a rhythm I can only describe as swing. If only I were to have any kind of rhythm with my words. Band and Jazz were stuck next to each other, lucky me, so I spent two hours making sounds with metal things. I miss that kind of lung capacity. This embodiment of jazz taught me an awful lot though, just exuding well-earned wisdom continuously, opening up an entire world of understanding and expression I had not realized prior. Trumpets can make funny sounds, and trumpeters will be glad to amuse you if you feed their ego. And, yes, I do match archetypes for flutists and trombonists. There was a nice five string bass somewhere near the end of that too, something I actually put time into learning ‘correctly.’ The strings being closer together worked out well for me, plus who’s arguing with that low B?
This interest has followed me through the years, although I haven’t played much of anything for a while. All the good guitar songs to sing with are the same five chords. Dull. Heal Me was exciting for the ten minutes I was learning it, and now my guitar rests, lost in the mess of things downstairs. Singing is kept for the car with the music up so I’m not serenading myself or anyone else on the planet.
There is a gift hidden somewhere in this that makes it that much better. Two, actually. The less important but more externally fun one is synesthesia: music can create a four dimensional world of colors unknown, sights unrecognizable, planetary explorations unattainable, and it is exceptionally fun to get lost in it. Bo Burnham’s “All Eyes on Me” piece is…mostly accurate with blue as a prominent color, however the bass itself is an undulating wave of something that I want to say is closer to the brown of the earth — it is a changing color of grey, brown, purple. Some of the calling errs toward orange, although the colors themselves are really difficult to pinpoint, they just are. It is impossible to describe the movement. I may break it down at some point though.
Less impossible to comprehend are frissons. This French word has a pronunciation that I abhor and I will mispronounce it intentionally. I’m a kind of garbage person in that way. When situations are adequate I will experience part of this, most commonly goosebumps. When situations are truly right, it is…something else entirely. Electrical signals pulsing down, up, my spine, across my back. The goosebumps. The teleportation to another world. It is undeniably the best feeling I have experienced. Situations are hardly ever right, but I hold frissons up on an extremely high pedestal.
In a pseudo-closing, I must say: Much of the music mentioned so far is enjoyable, but the tunes and tones I find most impactful are saved for deeper individual dives. It is just another of those destinations that have an important adventure behind them.
Some games occluded from the above nonsense with delightful tracks are:
Croc — Legend of the Gobbos: here’s the bonus theme, which is bouncy and fun, bass-heavy and delightful.
Cyberspeed: just…go for the whole list. Very EDM, bass-heavy, an awesome OST for a game wherein the speed of the gameplay was less than cyber.
Legend of Dragoon: Anger of the Winglies was a track I had some trouble finding some time ago, but was a really fun battle tune. Royal Capital is a really gorgeous cityscape that made running around annoying NPCs worth the time. Of course, its closing piece, If You Still Believe, is hauntingly beautiful — hello frissons. Should put that one on next time I’m in the car, although I’m admitting outright that some of those higher parts are not happening. More a harmony kinda person.
Portal and Portal 2: credit songs!
Lufia The Legend Returns: Tower of Twilight (it’s loud) sticks with me, although there are a few good tracks otherwise.
Somehow this has turned my meager draft into a novella. If you have gone through the whole thing, thank you.
