A-Train 5 Soundtrack

A-Train 5 Soundtrack, Koshiro Nishida, 1996

Few game series have shown the longevity of the A-Train franchise. From the release of the first A-Train in 1985, the series built a reputation for offering the most in-depth treatment of its subject that players could reasonably ask for. Because of the corporate structure of Japanese railway companies, which own the stations, land and trains associated with the services they operate, the A-Train games were always about more than simply laying track and fine-tuning timetables. They were full-fledged city-building simulators with a strong emphasis on rail infrastructure. The series proved successful enough in Japan to attract the interest of overseas publishers, including SimCity’s Maxis, in the mid-1990s, though Western players never seemed quite as taken with it as their Japanese counterparts. Thankfully, digital distribution would eventually allow later entries such as A-Train: All Aboard! Tourism to reach the West after all.

Looking across the franchise’s musical legacy, it is easily the 1996 A-Train 5 soundtrack that stands out, not merely among other A-Train scores, but among game soundtracks of its era more broadly. In several respects, it remains an intriguing mystery. Developer Artdink chose to have the game’s music, all 22 minutes of it, recorded by a live orchestra. One should remember that, even by 1996, a fully orchestral game score was still a genuine rarity. More surprising still, Artdink did not use a domestic ensemble, but instead hired the Warsaw Philharmonic Orchestra, which, after recordings with the likes of Masamichi Amano and Yoko Kanno, was rapidly becoming the go-to orchestra for Japanese prestige film, television and game projects. It is a somewhat puzzling decision given the game’s otherwise modest production values, but one that served the music beautifully.

The mysteries continue with the soundtrack’s composer, Koshiro Nishida, at least if one relies on English-language sources. Nishida’s background remains frustratingly obscure. On a 1982 Marco Polo classical recording, he is credited as arranger of a three-minute Taiwanese folk song for violin and orchestra. A handful of film websites list him as composer on two Japanese erotic films from the late 1980s. He then joined Artdink in 1994, working on titles such as Lunatic Dawn II, Aquanaut’s Holiday and A-Train 5, which stands head and shoulders above the rest of his game music output. Beyond that, almost nothing seems to be known at the time of writing. The only image of Nishida currently online supposedly shows him at an orchestral rehearsal in 2005.

What makes this lack of information so frustrating is the outstanding quality of the A-Train 5 soundtrack itself. Decades after its release, it still stands as one of game music’s finest orchestral scores. It is hard not to wish for a clearer sense of Nishida’s wider body of work, perhaps even for evidence of other soundtracks of similar calibre. For the time being, A-Train 5 must stand as sufficient testimony to his gifts. At just over 20 minutes, the score inevitably lacks the dramatic arc and narrative thrust of, say, Koei’s early orchestral works. Yet Nishida still manages to bind these pieces into a stylistically unified whole.

In Symphonie pour pixels, Aurélien Simon identifies Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky and George Gershwin as major influences on the A-Train 5 soundtrack. In truth, there is very little of Gershwin’s jazz-inflected orchestral style to be heard here, but the connection to Tchaikovsky is indeed palpable. Even so, much of Nishida’s melodic writing is shorter and more repetitive than one would normally encounter in classical music proper. Instead, A-Train 5 frequently evokes the unabashed emotionalism of 1930s and 1940s Hollywood scores. Of course, those works were themselves shaped by late-Romantic classical music, which allows Nishida to position his score at the point where the concert hall was giving way to film music. The result is a soundtrack whose emotional scale and expressive reach vastly exceed what one might expect from a train simulator.

Opening track “A-Train 5 Main Theme” establishes the score’s credentials immediately. Calm woodwind chords against iridescent strings expand into hefty, noble brass calls that evoke the opening of a Bruckner symphony before the music plunges into its first ravishing, heart-on-sleeve string melody. Nishida’s gift for delectable orchestration becomes apparent at once, as solo violin interjections alternate with glamorous string outpourings. Frolicking, tumbling woodwinds define the B section and underline the soundtrack’s closeness to forms of classical dance before Nishida drives the cue towards a gloriously impassioned, string-led climax. A solo piano then unexpectedly interrupts the fortissimo conclusion, and the music fades into the night over wispy violin chords, chimes and a final gong stroke. Throughout, Nishida’s orchestrations are lavish yet effortless, while his focus on memorable melodic motifs is strengthened by judicious counterpoint.

Equally assured is Nishida’s ability to shape his pieces either into delightful vignettes or into moving demonstrations of the expressive potency of romantic orchestral writing. In the latter category fall “Tours” and “Siciliano”. “Tours” sets aside the gentle motoric motion that underpins much of the rest of the soundtrack and instead relies almost entirely on the beauty of its warm, solemn cello melody, which slowly unfolds over majestic but tastefully restrained brass. “Siciliano” may well be the score’s most gorgeously melodic moment. Written for full strings and solo oboe, its alternately melancholic and dreamily ravishing melodies carry another of Nishida’s homages to classic film music, this time recalling Nino Rota. It is a spellbinding composition, its gently persistent motion and expertly judged dynamics shaping the material flawlessly across nearly six minutes.

More overtly classical in inspiration are two shorter pieces that cram as many shifts of instrumental colour as possible into their limited runtimes. It is above all in “From the Window of A-Train 5” and “Flower Dance” that the connection to Tchaikovsky becomes unmistakable, through the ballet-derived stylings first heard in “A-Train 5 Main Theme”. According to “From the Window of A-Train 5”, the world beyond the train windows is filled with wondrous, ever-changing sights. Nishida’s orchestrations are superb, clothing his lightly sprung, charming melodies in a dazzling variety of timbres while still making room for more robust sonorities in a brief, cheerful march episode. “Flower Dance” is no less sparkling, its two minutes containing some of the most colourful orchestral game music ever written. The cue’s more overtly dramatic streak drives its motoric energy towards a surprisingly imposing finale, built on rising brass fanfares and increasingly tense string ostinati.

“After ‘A5’ Has Gone” brings the score to a fittingly reflective close with a piano solo, soon joined by gentle strings and an optimistic motif passed among the woodwinds that perfectly suits the mood of calm fulfilment. Nishida’s Golden Age Hollywood inspirations guide even this contented music towards one final gushing outburst, propelled by a searing violin line over timpani rolls. Gradually, the music fades away, leaving behind the feeling of affectionate farewell as the violin chords slowly subside. That the ending of so brief a score should prove as moving as it does is yet another testament to the A-Train 5 soundtrack’s unexpected emotional power.