Gokinjo Bouken Tai Soundtrack

Gokinjo Bouken Tai Soundtrack, Akihiko Mori, 1996

Gokinjo Bouken Tai is one of those 16-bit games that could only have come out of Japan, and of course it was never released anywhere else. It is a joyous, upbeat adventure befitting its young protagonist Mana, a kindergardener living in a small Japanese town with her family. What makes Mana special is her ability to see and interact with yōkai, the spirits, gods and demons of Japanese folklore. The gameplay itself adheres fairly closely to familiar JRPG conventions. Yet the game’s anime-inflected setting, together with the obvious care that went into building its colourful world, turns it into a small and still largely undiscovered gem.

Coming near the end of his sadly brief career, and fresh from the creative triumph of Mystic Ark, Akihiko Mori delivers another outstanding score here. Once again, he expands his stylistic palette without sacrificing the qualities that had already made his earlier work so remarkable. Given the game’s quirkiness and its kindergarten-aged protagonist, it is hardly surprising that the Gokinjo Bouken Tai soundtrack is more overtly child-friendly than a magnum opus like Mystic Ark or a whirlwind action score such as Shien’s Revenge. But this is children’s music done properly, with just as much care for substance and detail as any more obviously prestigious work.

The soundtrack begins more or less as one might expect. Mori had already dabbled in pop-inspired, anime-adjacent idioms in Wonder Project J, but here the game’s characters and setting push him further into that territory. “Title” welcomes the listener with a laid-back jazzy opening before slipping into the bright world of a Saturday-morning cartoon theme. “Let’s Go!” continues in much the same spirit, a buoyant march strutting along with evident delight. Mori clearly takes both his characters and his audience seriously. His symphonic instincts remain just as present here as in his more overtly ‘serious’ scores; they are simply redirected into another emotional register, with shorter phrases and greater melodic immediacy.

As a result, for all the cuteness initially on display, the music never comes close to becoming cloying. Handclaps and bouncing rhythms mingle merrily with densely layered orchestral writing and hints of carnivalesque charm in the friendly, cosy “Pioneer Kindergarten”. “Rest” introduces steel drums and reggae rhythms, while “Shopping District” and “Bravery” add a welcome jolt of energy and singalong immediacy through their electric-guitar leads.

The most prominent non-orchestral influence on the score, however, is jazz. “Dungeon” surprises with an unusual piece of location scoring, concocting a good-naturedly zany blend of jazz and industrial clatter. Mori’s jazz writing reaches its peak in “Battle”, which goes all in on swinging big-band exuberance. Constantly shifting between saxophone soli, brass fanfares and solo piano, “Battle” is a thrilling demonstration of how to make the SPC chip sound like a jazz ensemble in full flight, an endless stream of ideas and one of the great jazz cues of the 16-bit era.

Elsewhere, Mori returns to more recognisably classical idioms, but reshapes them to fit the game’s sunny temperament. “Awakening” greets the day with intertwined woodwind lines over a gentle acoustic-guitar arpeggio. “Study” begins in a similarly idyllic vein before its flute melody is joined by solo cello in a richly lyrical duet. As the stakes rise towards the finale in “Watanabe Tower” and “The Last Battle”, Mori once again relies on the expressiveness and force of the orchestra. Interestingly, he also reaches back to Mystic Ark and its antagonist theme. “Watanabe Tower” in particular can at times feel like a reworking of that game’s final battle music. Yet it is a meaningful transformation, shifting the material from furious battle writing into a single-minded slow march perfectly suited to a final dungeon.

Most intriguing of all, though, is another side of the soundtrack entirely. Mana’s special gift is her ability to communicate with the spirit world, and Mori seizes on this as an invitation to create a series of atmospheric cues in the score’s second half, while also exploring touches of traditional Japanese music. Gradually, the soundtrack shifts from child-friendly orchestral pop into something far more uncanny and otherworldly than its opening stretch had suggested.

Mori’s unerring ear for mature, sophisticated orchestration allows these cues to cast their spell without fail. His use of chromaticism is especially effective, whether in the subtle horn counterpoint of “Shikushiku” or the beguiling string harmonies of “Aquarium”, both of which evoke spaces that are mysterious and alluring in equal measure. The flute soli of “Enka” and “Kappa Kingdom” suggest closeness to nature, again demonstrating Mori’s gift for long-breathed, elegant melody. “Enka”’s faint eeriness never undermines its lush tone, and its superb solo writing is echoed in the utterly delightful “Kappa Kingdom”, complete with a wonderfully synthesised dreamy cello line. “Sewer” is another nod to Mystic Ark, this time more in mood than direct material, as it feels like a deliberately fractured response to “Water is the Mother of All Life” and its evocative ostinato writing.

The spirit realm is not always a place of wonder and curiosity, however, and Mori deftly intensifies the undercurrent of strangeness into something genuinely unsettling. “Encounter”, with its crisis-laden string motif, discordant hammered piano and shrieking flutes, is a real jolt after the score’s earlier good nature. Yet for all its sharpness and violence, the cue does not disrupt the soundtrack’s overall coherence. Earlier tracks have already established enough richness of tone and enough stylistic flexibility for the score to absorb even such abrupt shifts of mood.

“Ghost Cave” fully lives up to its title, using solo flute to a far more haunted effect than elsewhere, complete with unsettling glissandi. “Old Mansion” then provides another surprise with its unusually busy breakdown before the loop, when a racing piano line sharply escalates the tension built up to that point. It is just one more unexpected turn in a soundtrack that repeatedly defies assumptions and, like the game it accompanies, deserves to be regarded as a hidden gem.