The 7th Saga Soundtrack

The 7th Saga Soundtrack, Norihiko Yamanuki, 1993

It is hardly surprising that some games are remembered less for the full balance of their strengths and weaknesses than for their single most pronounced feature. And so, when seasoned players look back on Produce’s The 7th Saga, what tends to come up first is not its peculiarly sombre atmosphere or its range of playable characters. Instead, retrospective discussion is dominated by its absolutely punishing difficulty level, made even harsher in the US release, which demanded hours of grinding almost from the outset. It is a pity, then, that The 7th Saga’s reputation as the SNES’s most brutal RPG so often overshadows its genuine accomplishments.

One of those accomplishments is Norihiko Yamanuki’s unexpectedly understated, at times haunting score, which runs counter to almost every JRPG cliché. It is difficult to contextualise the stylistic surprise of The 7th Saga soundtrack within Yamanuki’s wider body of work, largely because that body of work is so slight. Outside The 7th Saga, the only other game music credit readily identifiable on English-language sites is Madou Ou Granzort, a solid, if not especially remarkable, PC Engine score.

Perhaps this lack of context is actually to the music’s advantage. It leaves The 7th Saga soundtrack as a fascinating mystery, a beautifully realised curiosity. What is most striking about the score is just how subdued and introspective it is, even more so than an RPG soundtrack such as Secret of Evermore, which quite consciously avoids overt melodrama. Opening track “Beginning of a Tale” establishes the prevailing mood immediately: a serene, distant flute melody drifting above layers of ticking, clockwork-like sounds, punctuated in unusually effective fashion by tuba notes.

There is a duality at work in “Beginning of a Tale” that comes to define the score as a whole and makes The 7th Saga such an interesting work. On the one hand, much of the music feels elusive and remote, as though sounding from some cold and distant realm. It is no surprise that one of the overworld themes is titled “Frozen Depths of the Earth”. On the other hand, Yamanuki offsets the compositions’ chilly inertia with long-lined, lovely melodies that restore warmth to the music’s frosted bones.

The balancing act is subtler than that brief description suggests. Given the soundtrack’s general sparseness and downcast mood, direct, full-bodied melodies delivered by the whole orchestra would be entirely the wrong fit. A careful compositional hand is needed to introduce melodicism without disturbing the score’s restraint. Yamanuki meets that challenge beautifully through a series of creative instrumental choices. Many of the soundtrack’s melodies are assigned to reed organ or flute, both unusual lead instruments for a JRPG. Their rustic timbres give the music a homespun, low-key quality that suits its reserved demeanour perfectly. Yet these colours do more than define atmosphere. Their modest charm also deepens the score’s emotional pull.

This focus on chamber-sized textures and relatively minimal material works because Yamanuki’s melodic gifts are so strong. Often, he is content to write a single, non-repeating melody that carries nearly an entire cue. “Fortress City” is a beautiful example of how little he needs to cast a spell: a hushed flute line against soft percussion is enough to make the track quietly captivating. “Wilme Pelin” remains close to the same formula, but reveals just how romantic The 7th Saga soundtrack can occasionally become. Even the near-ambient “Kamil Dowonna” never wears thin, thanks to the strength of its melodic writing.

There are moments, however, when the score turns colder and more forbidding. Tellingly, this happens most often in the world map themes. The narrative intention, and the effect, are both clear. Yamanuki evokes a vast world not through genre-typical bombast, but through far quieter means. Calm instrumental soli echo in the distance on “World Map” and “The Farthest Reaches”, tracing lonely melodies across immense, empty space: a world lying dormant for ages. It is a refreshingly different conception of what epic game music can sound like.

A bleak march such as “Frozen Depths of the Earth” sets its forlorn, tinkling arpeggio lead against thundering timpani, relentless snare drums, and heavy string chords. At times, the same desolate mood seeps into the character themes. The almost ghostly synth melody of “Lux Tizer” seems made up as much of echoes as of actual notes, deliberately diminishing the theme’s material presence. The effect perfectly captures the character’s bottomless melancholy as one of the last survivors of a dying race, ultimately destined to perish.

That is not to say there is no lightness to be found here. Yamanuki also uses the score’s earthy quality to generate a few ingratiating, playful moments. “Esuna Busy” begins with a tribal flourish before unexpectedly turning sprightly and mischievous through its flute writing. “Olvan Jaess” is more directly upbeat, built around a buoyant flute solo. “Lively Village” places its instruments at an odd acoustic distance, as if the music were being recalled from a dream, but that only creates an intriguing counter-effect to the cue’s animated woodwind melodies. And then there is “Mecha Glider”, the soundtrack’s one true moment of soaring, anthemic melodicism, which Yamanuki handles with complete assurance.

Not everything on The 7th Saga soundtrack works equally well. When the setting calls for more overtly dramatic or adventurous expression, particularly in the battle music but also in a piece like “The Seven Apprentices”, Yamanuki sometimes struggles to reconcile his naturally meandering style with the need for stronger forward momentum. As a result, “The Seven Apprentices” feels rather overextended, while the battle cues can suffer from inflexible rhythms. A final boss track such as “Battle in a World of Fading Hope” even feels somewhat ill-judged, its awkward bounciness undermining the intended gravity. That said, “Epic Confrontation”, with its aggressive dissonant string layers, still manages to generate a surprising degree of intensity while remaining consistent with the soundtrack’s relatively static aesthetic.

Within the vast SNES catalogue, there is very little before or after The 7th Saga that sounds quite like this inspired realisation of a truly original approach to RPG scoring, one that rejects the genre’s usual eclecticism in favour of a cohesive sound world entirely its own.