Matt Chaney / John DeBorde / Joshua Mosley, 2009
Games like ‘Splosion Man deserve appreciation for taking one particularly enjoyable aspect of video games and building an entire design around it. In this case, that element is — of course — explosions. Whether solving platforming puzzles, defeating enemies, or simply jumping, everything is powered by the self-combusting antics of the game’s protagonist.
In an unusual move, Twisted Pixel Games divided soundtrack duties along game mode lines. Joshua Mosley wrote the single-player cues, while John DeBorde wrote the multiplayer tracks. Audio lead Matt Chaney also contributed and performed the game’s light-hearted ukulele theme song, “Donuts, Go Nuts!” Both Mosley and DeBorde came to the project with a background in composing across multiple media, including games, television, and film.
At the time of release, most coverage of the ‘Splosion Man soundtrack focused on Mosley’s compositions. His blend of 1960s spy-brass swagger and metal guitars is undeniably entertaining — but his sixteen cues all clock in between forty and fifty seconds and have little room to develop their invigorating sound. DeBorde’s assignment is more forgiving: his multiplayer tracks are at least allowed to pass the two-minute mark. That might not sound like much, but it proves to be all the room he needs.
DeBorde’s tracks remain broadly consistent with Mosley’s stylistic world. Faced with a game built around constant detonation, the temptation must have been strong to write a score that simply barrels forward at full speed from beginning to end. To his credit, DeBorde paces things more intelligently than that. Some tracks do put the pedal to the metal straight away in order to capture ‘Splosion Man‘s manic focus and fiery temperament. These cues rely more heavily on chugging metal guitars, which DeBorde otherwise tends to push slightly further into the background.
“Driven to Splode” is one such cue, immediately announcing the soundtrack’s ferocious intent. While the heavy guitars deliver satisfying mid-tempo headbanging material, the track also maintains a steady groove through snappy lead-guitar figures and syncopated rock drums. The final flourish is a sizzling saxophone solo, while the lead guitars run riot beneath it — the energy holding at a consistent plateau throughout, the music arriving at full force and never quite releasing its grip.
This is a strategy DeBorde uses throughout much of the soundtrack: introducing rip-roaring saxophone or trumpet soli in the final third of a cue to detonate the tension built up beforehand. The relationship between guitars and brass is particularly interesting. This combination might suggest a funk metal approach, but that is not quite what DeBorde is after. Rather than neatly reinforcing each other’s rhythms, guitars and brass operate with a degree of independence, gradually building an ever more forceful wall of sound.
This is music that is not afraid to go for the jugular. “Experimental Grinder”‘s heavy guitar rhythms radiate a contracting claustrophobia, like a star collapsing before it goes supernova — and then guitar and saxophone plunge headfirst into a bruising, exhilarating stand-off. Album closer “The Scientist Slicer” somehow ends on an even more forceful note. White-hot soli from saxophone, trumpet, and metal guitars collide in a gloriously ferocious finale that leaves listeners blissfully exhausted.
Between these explosions of intensity, DeBorde eases off occasionally to give listeners some breathing room. These more relaxed stretches also allow him to experiment with fresh genre blends. “Scale the Shaft”‘s pop-funk mixture may be the soundtrack’s biggest stylistic surprise. The brass carries a melody that would not sound out of place on an 1980s pop single, while bass and drums keep the groove firmly in motion — the track builds patiently, its energy peaking well past the halfway point as guitar shredding meets brassy pop hooks. Upbeat, yet scarcely less vigorous than the score’s harder-hitting material.
“The Lab Vac”‘s opening brings the soundtrack the closest it comes to easy listening. The lively drumming prevents the music from ever settling into complacency, and DeBorde still manages to build the track toward another showstopping close — the most patient build on the soundtrack, its energy gathering almost imperceptibly before cresting deep in the track’s final third. He even brings in surprisingly eerie synths and choral “aahs” to expand the album’s sound further still.
A soundtrack racing along at high velocity with brass instruments at hand will almost inevitably flirt with ska. “Ska-POW!” duly obliges — and fittingly, it is one of only two tracks to settle into a major key, its C major brightness a counterweight to the D minor that anchors most of the action writing. Trumpet and saxophone spring through a staccato line seemingly built to ignite a dance floor, before the saxophone launches into the soundtrack’s most extended solo. The opening fanfare returns, growing more urgent by the second, and soon the customary metal guitars add a scolding melody of their own. It all ends in a raging bonfire of whirling sparks and embers — an apt image for a score whose joyous ferocity has few peers.
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