1993 Archives - The Greatest Game Music

Battletoads & Double Dragon Soundtrack (SNES)

Battletoads & Double Dragon Soundtrack (SNES), David Wise, 1993

In 1993, the Battletoads franchise was in a slightly curious spot. The 1991 NES original had been successful enough to spawn several ports. There was also Battletoads in Battlemaniacs, a SNES (and later Sega Master System) game that ultimately felt like a remix of the 1991 NES title. So where to next for the burgeoning, but not quite yet established franchise? Publisher Tradewest had released Battletoads on several platforms and held the home license for the venerable Double Dragon franchise. Why not combine two forces of nature in one amazing game? The match seemed to be an entirely natural one, given that Kevin Bayliss, co-designer of Battletoads, was a big Double Dragon fan.

However, things didn’t quite pan out as expected. For starters, with Rare developing the game, Battletoads & Double Dragon felt like it was shoehorning the world of Billy and Jimmy Lee into the more comic-like antics of a Battletoads game. It didn’t help that Double Dragon characters made appearances under the wrong names. Ultimately, Battletoads & Double Dragon garnered respectable but rarely enthusiastic reviews at the time of its release. That impression seems to continue with more recent assessments of the game: a decent enough brawler that doesn’t live up to the potential of the franchise crossover.

Once more, the game was first released on the NES, followed by Game Boy, Sega Genesis and SNES ports. And of course, David Wise was responsible for the scores. Out of the quartet of Battletoads & Double Dragon soundtracks, it’s the SNES one that takes the crown. Wise takes the hard rock influences from the SNES Battletoads in Battlemaniacs – where they awkwardly shared the limelight with orchestral sounds – and puts them front and centre. He’s helped by a guitar tone that is far punchier and more exciting than the thinly buzzing guitars on Battlemaniacs. On the Battletoads & Double Dragon soundtrack, the guitars (and the rest of the rock band ensemble) are sampled to a very impressive standard that makes these compositions truly come alive. It’s hard not to think of Wise’s work here as a precursor to the amazingly realistic sounds he coaxed out of the SNES for Donkey Kong Country.

What’s more, Wise’s writing for guitars is flawless, his riffs beautifully melodic yet powerful, varied and instantly memorable. Thanks to this strength, “Main Theme” successfully kicks off proceedings at a steam-rolling, mid-tempo pace that references Battletoads’ earthy rock intro, but updates it for the 16-bit era. Amidst the fist-raising hard rock, Wise tastefully sprinkles in a few synth leads that effectively underscore the game’s space location.

The rest of the Battletoads & Double Dragon soundtrack follows this stylistic lead, dishing up some of the best melodic hard rock written for the SNES. “Abobo” reprises material from “Main Theme” in a slightly faster rendition, before moving through a number of various new riffs. This sort of variety and flow shapes almost the entire soundtrack. As a result, most tracks do feel like fully-fledged (if abbreviated) hard rock songs, performed on the SNES. “Robo Manus” dials up the tempo a few notches and immediately jumps into the action with utter joy and abandon. Its head-banging fury is delivered with a big grin, capped off perfectly by a clean guitar solo with a catchy pop influence.

On a handful of other tracks, Wise indulges in some genre mixing that is as well executed as the Battletoads & Double Dragon soundtrack’s hard rock stylings. “Big Blag” and “Shadow Boss” bring to the table the new jack swing influences that the original Battletoads had avoided. The irony here is of course that Battletoads was so clearly modelled after the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles NES games and their new jack swing-heavy soundtracks. Wise’s tracks live up to those outstanding role models, with all the necessary cool swing and energy in their rhythms and colourful orchestrations that the SNES makes possible. “Big Blag” focuses mostly on its grooving beats, complemented by brass and organ leads, while “Shadow Boss” seamlessly merges hard rock guitars and funk inspirations.

What “Abobo” and “Big Blag” make clear is that the SNES version of the Battletoads & Double Dragon soundtrack is less interested in the intriguing moodiness of the Genesis port and instead simply goes for succinct, entertaining rock and funk action. The SNES score isn’t as creative as the Genesis soundtrack, but ultimately more successful. It keeps up the momentum until the last track, while the Genesis score begins to fizzle out towards the end. That’s largely due to the proliferation of repetitive material on the Genesis soundtrack, which doesn’t have the palette of instrumental colours to draw upon that helps the SNES port to dress up its musical ideas in new disguises.

The advantage of having more instruments to work with becomes particularly obvious on “Roper”. On the Genesis, the track feels a bit too fragmented to make the most of its initially intriguing mood. On the SNES, Wise can fully indulge in the Battletoads & Double Dragon soundtrack’s most ambitious genre mix that brings together introspective yet catchy synth melodies, funk brass fanfares, tribal drumming and fiery guitar salvos and sludgy riffs. It’s particularly the crunchy guitars that help to connect the different song sections better than what the Genesis soundtrack accomplishes. It also doesn’t hurt that the SNES version achieves more impressive changes in dynamics, making the track’s changes in direction exciting rather than jarring. If someone questions the SNES’ rock credentials, point them in the direction of the Battletoads & Double Dragon soundtrack.

Conversion notes

The Genesis version of the soundtrack is discussed above at some length already. The NES original is surprisingly underwhelming and no match for the 1991 Battletoads NES score. Tracks are fairly short and repetitive, evidencing little inspiration or energy. In fact, this might be Wise’s least impressive Battletoads soundtrack. The Game Boy port has a bit more grit and power than the NES version, while excising some material and compressing other pieces. That being said, the end result still isn’t anything to write home about.

01 - Main Theme David Wise 2:03
02 - Abobo (Stage 1) David Wise 2:45
03 - Big Blag (Stage 2) David Wise 2:11
04 - Roper (Stage 3) David Wise 3:03
05 - Robo Manus (Stage 5) David Wise 2:16
06 - Shadow Boss (Stage 6) David Wise 1:55
07 - The Dark Queen (Stage 7) David Wise 1:29

Battletoads Soundtrack (Sega Genesis)

Battletoads Soundtrack (Sega Genesis), Hikoshi Hashimoto / David Wise, 1993

Yes, it might have been a blatant attempt to ride the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles’ coattails. Still, Rare’s 1991 NES Battletoads game was successful enough to see it ported to a plethora of other platforms. Probably the highest-profile port was the Battletoads version released for the Sega Genesis in 1993. Reviews of the game were somewhat divided. More than a few critics pointed out that the developers could have done more to improve the game in the two years that had passed since the NES release, instead of releasing what was mostly a simple conversion that arguably didn’t push the Genesis graphics chip much. In fact, where the Genesis port of Battletoads probably shines the brightest is with its score.

Let’s start with a few disclaimers. Available information on who developed the Genesis port is conflicting. Some sources point to Rare, others list Japanese studio Arc System Works. Arc System Works did develop the Battletoads Game Gear port, so it’s reasonably likely they handled the Genesis conversion too. The Game Gear soundtrack was ported by Hikoshi Hashimoto, not original composer David Wise himself and since it was practically unheard of in the mid-90s for a Western composer to work on a Japanese game, it is reasonably safe to assume Hashimoto handled the Genesis port as well. That theory is supported by the fact that the Genesis version of Battletoads uses the SMPS Z80 sound driver, commonly used by Japanese composers. This would also account for the fact that this version of Battletoads sounds quite different from Wise’s Genesis port of Battletoads & Double Dragon.

Thankfully, once we move to the music itself, these considerations matter little. The Genesis port of the Battletoads soundtrack is easily the most successful adaptation of the idiosyncratic NES original. The score’s Amiga and Amiga CD32 ports had proven that simply taking the NES compositions and beefing them up using better synths didn’t work particularly well. This approach turned the score into a decent-to-middling action game soundtrack that was missing the original’s nervously pulsing, twitchy intensity. On the Genesis, Hashimoto manages to avoid this issue, retaining the NES soundtrack’s character while subtly tweaking it.

Firstly, there are those more straightforward compositions that would have always been easier to port to other systems. Take “Turbo Tunnel Race”, which on the NES had already been a flawless, beautifully head-banging hard rock track. Transferring it to the superior Genesis sound chip only means that the rhythm section’s single-minded focus on breathless racing action comes across all the more powerfully. Similarly, “Theme” doesn’t need much tweaking to rock harder than its NES equivalent, while preserving its strident, catchy nature.

On other tracks, Hashimoto straightens out the NES compositions’ peculiarities to emphasise the tracks’ melodic strengths. Take the Genesis version of “Volkmire’s Inferno Race” – the off-kilter rhythms and complexities of the NES cue are gone. However, they are replaced by laser-sharp pop instincts and a killer of a sing-along melody in the cue’s B section. That melody was of course already there on the NES original, but here it absolutely soars with unrestrained euphoria, thanks to an uncluttered arrangement and more powerful, clearer synths. Arranging this kind of track might have come naturally to Hashimoto, considering his similarly-styled work on Racing Hero.

Final level track “Revolution” takes a similar approach. It doesn’t undermine action game scoring conventions as much as the NES score did, but still registers as a creative and effective piece of game music. If the NES cue was full of anxiously jittering anticipation, the Genesis port sets the scene for the final showdown in more conventionally spectacular fashion. “Revolution”’s opening descending arpeggios are hiding a vaguely hopeful melody that is more strongly emphasised on the Genesis. At the same time, the Genesis-exclusive hammering snare drums doubling the arpeggiated notes only increase the drama and tension. “Rat Race” even improves on the NES original, with the Genesis’ more powerful tones deployed most effectively. With every instrument right in the listener’s face, the fast rhythms feel more panicked and breathless than on the NES.

Still, much of the original Battletoads soundtrack was surprisingly moody and jagged. It also steadfastly refused to deliver much in terms of empowering melodies or rhythms. Porting the score to a 16-bit platform inevitably removes much of the original chiptunes’ haziness and their elusive nature that Wise had made the most of. However, Hashimoto finds a suitable replacement on the Genesis port to keep the music unpredictable.

Again, the effect is not as strong as what the NES original achieved, but it’s still sufficient to keep listeners intrigued. Rather than simply relying on the Genesis’ more forceful synths, Hashimoto uses the platform’s wider range of timbres to maintain the pieces’ unstable mood and uneven forward drive. First level track “Ragnarok’s Canyon” establishes this trait right away and “Wookie Hole” continues to fragment its momentum by switching back and forth between instrumental colours. As a result, the larger instrumentation isn’t in the way of the music’s originally intended mood, but instead creatively twists it.

Tracks like “Surf City”, “Karnath’s Lair” and “Intruder Excluder & Terra Tubes” might stick closer to racing action scoring than the NES originals, but they maintain the NES tracks’ erratic, yet effective stop/start dynamics. “Surf City” makes the most pronounced use of contrasting timbres to break up its own flow. From 0:35 onwards, its lead melody suddenly shifts back and forth between a bell-like instrument and bass synths – never sacrificing its thrust yet keeping the track’s progression a surprise. And thanks to the Genesis’ more robust synths, sudden changes of pace and rhythm register with more force than previously. So while the NES original remains the more creative score, the Battletoads soundtrack for the Genesis is still an excellent, sometimes intriguingly eccentric piece of action game scoring.

01 - Title Screen / Opening David Wise 1:38
02 - Ragnarok's Canyon (Stage 1) David Wise 2:26
03 - Wookie Hole (Stage 2) David Wise 3:43
04 - Turbo Tunnel Race (Stage 3) David Wise 2:51
05 - Arctic Caverns (Stage 4) David Wise 2:01
06 - Surf City (Stage 5) David Wise 2:07
07 - Karnath's Lair (Stage 6) David Wise 2:19
08 - Volkmire's Inferno Race (Stage 7) David Wise 1:47
09 - Intruder Excluder & Terra Tubes (Stage 8 & 9) David Wise 1:38
10 - Rat Race (Stage 10) David Wise 2:03
11 - The Revolution (Stage 12) David Wise 2:19

Ihatovo Monogatari Soundtrack

Ihatovo Monogatari Soundtrack, Tsukasa Tawada, 1993

Looking at Japanese developer Hect’s gameography, it’s easy to assume they produced few titles that were in any noteworthy, instead focusing on undistinguished simulation games. But look more closely, and you’ll find Moon Crystal, a surprisingly polished NES platformer, released in 1992. And then there’s the following year’s Ihatovo Monogatari, easily Hect’s most ambitious – and unusual – release. An adventure purely built around exploration – no riddles, battles or other interruptions present – Ihatovo Monogatari was based on Japanese author Kenji Miyazawa’s writings. The game’s locations and characters drew upon several of Miyazawa’s stories, while “Ihatovo” was a made-up word Miyazawa had created to refer to a rural utopia inspired by his hometown of Iwate. Naturally only released in Japan, Ihatovo Monogatari’s distinctive nature has seen it continuously garnering praise as one of the SNES’ hidden gems.

Few of the online reviews praising Ihatovo Monogatari years after its initial release fail to mention the game’s soundtrack and for good reason, as it truly is one of the 16-bit era’s most intriguing scores. It was the work of Tsukasa Tawada, who by 1993 had already amassed a significant body of work on the NES, Game Boy and TurboGrafx. However, not much of his discography stood out much – his most substantial works so far had been Earth Defense Force, the SNES port of Dungeon Master (written with Hikoshi Hashimoto) and the aforementioned Moon Crystal. However, Ihatovo Monogatari catapulted Tawada into the limelight – his following assignments would include sound designer on the Dragon Quest franchise, before becoming one of Nintendo’s go-to composers for Pokémon games. And clearly, the Ihatovo Monogatari soundtrack still holds special meaning for Tawada, made evident by his 2019 piano arrangements uploaded to his Youtube channel.

Like for his colleagues at Hect, there must have been something about this project that inspired Tawada to go above and beyond – there really isn’t anything in his body of work that resembles the Ihatovo Monogatari soundtrack. Opening track “Title” already indicates that this score is something special. An elating violin lead proceeds with strong, regular accents, giving the melody a ceremonial, almost spiritual quality. Underneath, a lively flute ostinato bubbles along in an ear-catchingly different meter than the lead melody, while the brass provide soft chordal support. The result is music that feels simultaneously regal, welcoming and playful – a surprisingly complex mix of emotions that Tawada will mine throughout the score.

Indeed, his imaginative orchestrations and harmonic structures – mixed with excellent melodic sensibilities – make the Ihatovo Monogatari soundtrack such a delight. Take “Volcano Centre”, the score’s most fascinating and best-developed cue. It shares its feeling of wistfulness with several other compositions on the score, but at the same time drifts through a haze of surreal calm. Tawada perfects one of his signature techniques here that helps lend the soundtrack its peculiar character. His melodic and rhythmic progressions are fairly even and predictable – but what makes “Volcano Centre” so spellbinding are the heady chromatic intervals Tawada generates as his woodwind melodies harmonise. “Snow Passage Village” takes this approach further still, relying almost entirely on the hypnotic, repetitive melodic motion of its harmonising flute lines, which thankfully prove haunting rather than tiresome.

These pieces are a good showcase for how Tawada’s work manages to combine earthiness with hints of an otherworldly, dream-like state – very much appropriate, given the magical realism of Miyazawa’s books. Like Ihatovo Monogatari’s visuals, Tawada’s music doesn’t imbue the game with as strong a sense of surrealism as one might expect, considering the nature of their literary inspiration. However, the music still inhabits a world very few other game scores of its era do.

For example, the gorgeously pastoral melodies of “Ihatovo City” initially mark the composition as a first-rate, if stylistically typical RPG town theme. But then Tawada passes the melody to divided violins playing in their highest registers, creating a glistening string tone that subtly tweaks the music’s initially homey atmosphere into something more removed and elusive. “Kenjuu’s Village 1” uses a similar approach, cladding its plaintive harmonica lead in loads of echo – so its usually down-to-earth tone falls in line with the spaciousness suggested by the distant strings. Again, the result is a successful combination of contrasts – music that sounds lonesome yet hopeful.

What “Ihatovo City” and “Kenjuu Village 1” also evidence is the influence of folk and pop music on some of the soundtrack’s melodies – something that “Romantic Movie” brings to a head. The track turns out to be a country-rock ballad, with its acoustic guitar lead and deep rumbling bass. Such contemporary sounds are a surprise, but they fit very well into the Ihatovo Monogatari soundtrack’s stylistic palette that Tawada has carefully developed. “Music Festival” uses another popular musical format, this time to highlight the score’s underlying sense of nostalgia – a waltz. First heard on a play organ that evokes the carnivals of yore, the cue switches (somewhat abruptly) to an orchestral waltz, made intriguing once more by Tawada’s melodies and attention to detail. Listen to how the string pizzicati play on the third rather than first beat, keeping the often rigid rhythms of the ¾ waltz meter enticingly off-kilter.

Occasionally, the score also travels into darker regions – those places of Ihatovo Monogatari’s world that are furthest removed from the cosiness and hospitality suggested by most of the music. “Cave” wonderfully evokes its eerie location through gleaming strings and an oboe melody that sounds like a bird call echoing in the darkness. More interesting still is “Phenomenon IV”, which turns the score’s dreamy mood nightmarish through the spectral unease of its static, dissonant violin chords – and yet there are enough hints of melodicism to soften the edges of this harsh composition. Closing track “Galaxy Express” then marks a return from the unsettling beyond to the here and now, as another splendid oboe melody – leading violins and solo cello – bids farewell. And when that last nostalgic oboe note finally fades away, it’s hard not to feel that Tawada has perfectly encapsulated Miyazawa’s “Ihatovo” – the sweet yet impossible yearning for utopia.

01 - Title Tawada, Tsukasa 1:46
02 - Ihatovo City Tawada, Tsukasa 3:22
03 - Fire Stone Forest Tawada, Tsukasa 1:32
04 - Cave Tawada, Tsukasa 2:10
05 - Kenjuu's Village 1 Tawada, Tsukasa 2:22
06 - Kenjuu's Village 2 Tawada, Tsukasa 2:22
07 - Volcano Center Tawada, Tsukasa 3:49
08 - Music Festival Tawada, Tsukasa 2:58
10 - Snow Passage Village Tawada, Tsukasa 2:15
11 - Phenomenon IV Tawada, Tsukasa 2:29
12 - Galaxy Express Tawada, Tsukasa 2:33

Lock On Soundtrack

Lock On Soundtrack, Akihiko Mori, 1993

Using the SNES’s famed 3D capabilities for a combat flight simulator seems like an obvious choice. However, despite the popularity of After Burner-style games in the late 80s and early 90s, not many titles of this kind were released on the SNES. One of the few SNES flight simulators was the blandly-titled Lock On (not that the Japanese release name Super Air Diver made any sense, but it sure sounds more fun). For post SNES-era gamers, the best way to view developer Copya System‘s Lock On is probably as a kind of simplified Ace Combat. Some of that simplification was inevitable, given that the SNES’ famous Mode 7 could only generate 3D graphics of limited complexity. However, in the eyes of many reviewers, the bigger issue was the monotonous mission and gameplay structure that distracted from the game’s fluid, fast graphics.

Where Lock On easily shines brightest is in the music department, thanks to some outstanding work by young composer Akihiko Mori. Mori had been working as a game composer since 1990, but mostly on smaller and less thankful projects. His biggest assignment so far had been to generate the sound effects for Copya System’s Paladin’s Quest (scored by none other than Kohei Tanaka). Lock On was easily the most high-profile project that Mori had been assigned to yet as a composer. And indeed, throughout the Lock On soundtrack, Mori displays the enthusiasm of a talented composer who senses that this project could be his big break – and that turned out to be the case indeed.

Mori scores Lock On with an invigorating mix of rock, jazz, electronic and orchestral elements, mixed to perfection. Stylistically, the Lock On soundtrack doesn’t suggest anything that’s radically different from the template of 1980s adrenaline-driven cool set by After Burner and its many genre brethren (and of course Top Gun). But what Mori presents is an unexpectedly colourful and complex take on genre stereotypes – true to the signature style that he would come to develop and of which Lock On is the first example.

“Mission 1” straightaway announces Mori’s high-flying ambitions to spectacular results. Rising synth chords and pounding rock drums lead into a galloping track with amble funk influences (listen to that beautifully agile, grooving bass). This would be sufficient to make for a winning composition. But Mori goes out of this way and varies the melodic material between triumphant brass fanfares, a free-wheeling saxophone line and a racing, jazzy piano solo. As if that wasn’t enough, purposefully distorted synth leads add some tension to a composition that is already overflowing with energy. It’s fusion rock at its finest, brimming with variety and always tons of fun.

Throughout the Lock On soundtrack, Mori makes use of his large instrumental palette to explore different facets of the genre mix that he perfects on this score. “Mission 2” emphasises the more jazzy aspects of his elaborate formula, both through its swing and the impressive number of rhythm changes and breakdowns. At the same time, there is a rocking, head-banging quality to “Mission 2” and the score in general that keeps the music racing forward at all times. There is never a dull moment on the Lock On soundtrack, as Mori keeps throwing new melodies and segments into each composition – none of the tracks here are simple A/B section affairs.

Indeed, almost every single one of Mori’s compositions here is densely orchestrated and packed with ideas. Listen to “Mission 4” and its competing melodies, performed by saxophone and trumpet, or head over to absolutely rousing “Special Mission 2”, where rising trumpet and saxophone countermelodies compete with synth motifs, while yet more synth lines race by underneath. Mori clearly knows how to write complex compositions that never stand still, but at the same time he always prioritises memorable, substantial melodies over mere musical activity and busyness.

What’s most impressive about the Lock On soundtrack is how much it feels like a session of instrumental virtuosos jamming in full flight – not afraid to show off their chops during lengthy soli, but also able to hold these multi-faceted tracks together when the instruments lock into supremely tight grooves or work hand in hand during rushing call and response patterns. One of the credits in Lock On’s staff roll reads “Music Player: MORImori Rock’ n BAND”. Far from being just a cute insert, that credit needs to be taken seriously – hardly any other SNES soundtrack sounds as much like the product of a great live band as Lock On does.

Mori puts all of the above – the music’s boundless energy, its equally sprawling and focused instrumentations – to good use when he takes things higher and higher towards Lock On’s conclusion. The score’s hard rock tendencies begin to make themselves more and more felt in the soundtrack’s second half. While more straightforward, “Mission 5”’s driving rhythms carry stirring urgency and power, even when the melody lead lies with a solo harp. “Mission 6” is heavier and more intense still, making up for any lack of adventurousness with the determination and catchiness of its shortened melodic motifs. And “Ending” turns out to be a harbinger of the amazing orchestral works Mori would deliver soon. He effortlessly writes a pop ballad with cinematic sweep and a tender, one-minute long flute solo. There’s no doubt that the Lock On soundtrack announced the arrival of a major talent.

01 - Briefing Akihiko Mori 1:26
02 - Mission 1 Akihiko Mori 3:19
03 - Boss Battle Akihiko Mori 2:26
04 - Mission 2 Akihiko Mori 1:43
05 - Special Mission 1 Akihiko Mori 2:42
06 - Mission 3 Akihiko Mori 2:25
07 - Mission 4 Akihiko Mori 3:07
08 - Special Mission 2 Akihiko Mori 2:52
09 - Mission 5 Akihiko Mori 2:45
10 - Mission 6 Akihiko Mori 3:09
11 - Mission 7 Akihiko Mori 2:58
12 - Final Mission Akihiko Mori 3:28
13 - Ending Akihiko Mori 3:28
14 - Unknown Song 1 Akihiko Mori 2:45

Secret of Mana Soundtrack

Secret of Mana Soundtrack, Hiroki Kikuta, 1993

It’s no understatement to say that for many gamers, Secret of Mana remains one of the most fondly remembered experiences of the 16-bit era. Of course, a lot of that has to do with the innate quality of the product. Square’s experiment merging action adventure and RPG elements was a resounding success, charming millions of players with its vibrant fantasy world and accessible, yet deep gameplay. But timing played an important role as well. Remember that back in 1993, US releases of SNES RPGs were the exception, not the rule (and for the German market, Secret of Mana might well have been the first localised SNES RPG ever). As a result, many gamers encountered the engrossing storytelling and vivid worlds that the best RPGs deliver for the first time with Secret of Mana.

An even rarer sight were actual album releases of game music outside of Japan. Secret of Mana was one of the very, very few SNES game scores to see a US release (preceding Donkey Kong Country by a year). Again, for many this would have been the first time they encountered game music outside of a game.

Of course, Square’s confidence in releasing this particular soundtrack in the US turned out to be well-founded. As thousands and thousands of listeners discovered, Hiroki Kikuta’s Secret of Mana soundtrack is one of the masterpieces of not just the 16-bit era, but game music history at large. It was the result of many, many months of hard work, according to Kikuta. He worked on the score for more than two years, leaving the office only twice a month. Enjoying the freedom that Square gave Kikuta on his debut game score, he spent the majority of those two years tweaking the sounds he could squeeze out of the SNES. In the process, he used tricks like achieving a three-dimensional sound by playing an instrument on two tracks and giving only one side of the stereo field vibrato.

All this effort polishing the instrument samples used for Secret of Mana clearly paid off. There’s a enormous vibrancy and warmth here, coupled with a sense of spaciousness. This melange gives the score an inviting, enveloping character that suits the musical material perfectly. The Secret of Mana soundtrack truly is a masterclass in world building, creating a fantastical realm unlike most others seen in RPGs of the area.

Kikuta eschews the bombast that most SNES RPGs dabble in, inspired as they are by late-romantic orchestral works (pay attention to how rarely Kikuta uses brass on Secret of Mana). His orchestral palette is lighter and brighter, highlighting mallet and wooden percussion, harp, acoustic guitar and solo woodwinds. It’s a creative, versatile instrumental array that creates a more intimate sound than many other RPG scores. At the same time, Kikuta’s focus on smaller ensembles doesn’t create the sort of self-consciously low-key mood that another solo instrument-heavy RPG score like Secret of Evermore aims for. Instead, Secret of Mana maintains an enrapturing lushness.

What also sets the Secret of Mana soundtrack apart is Kikuta’s astounding creativity when it comes to the melodies and harmonies he deploys. His melodies modulate far more often than one would hear on a typical game score. They are constantly in flux, evoking a wide-open, mesmerising fantasy world without having to thicken textures or turn up the volume. In fact, Kikuta’s wonderfully lyrical melodies feel like living, breathing beings – a perfect representation of the nature mysticism that saturates both the game’s narrative and the score.

Kikuta adds more creativity still to Secret of Mana‘s overall sound by liberally mixing orchestral sounds with pop, jazz and prog rock elements. Occasionally, he even incorporates material taken from Javanese music (“Ceremony”, “The Oracle”). What emerges is a musical style that accomplishes a very, very rare balancing act. On the Secret of Mana soundtrack, Kikuta manages to establish a new musical vocabulary (for a 16-bit game), while keeping the results of his experimentation extremely accessible.

Ultimately, what it all leads to – and what has made the Secret of Mana soundtrack so popular – is the very particular mood that Kikuta manages to evoke. There is a profound sense of quiet, awestruck wonder and spiritual union with nature that runs through this score, from the moment the game opens with a whale cry. Kikuta’s music matches the game’s visual style at every turn, painting Secret of Mana’s world as a wondrous, occasionally menacing, but far more often bright and optimistic realm. A track like “Still of the Night” takes Secret of Mana’s wispy, star-gazing tendencies to their extreme. The pieces uses minimalist instrumentations and material to clearly spell out the soundtrack’s attempts to reach for the sublime.

But there’s another side to Secret of Mana that initially might feel like the polar opposite of its otherworldly tendencies. Anything but constantly quiet and reverential, Secret of Mana delivers loads of quirky fun on many tracks. For example, there’s the dwarf percussion jam that is “It Happened Late One Evening” or “The Little Sprite” and its infectious, upbeat rhythms. Secret of Mana’s modus operandi might be contemplating nature’s wonders. However, Kikuta is smart enough to realise that this includes both passive marvelling and participating in the sheer liveliness and joy that animates the world and its creatures.

In the end, both the music’s mysticism and its charming eccentricities are two sides of the same coin. It’s the organic feel and earthiness of “A Curious Happening”’s odd-ball whimsy that grounds the soundtrack’s flightier, drifting moods – and is just another way to articulate the music’s embrace of nature. There is an entire unique universe evoked and captured in the Secret of Mana soundtrack and that’s why listeners have been returning to it for decades.

01 - Fear of the Heavens Hiroki Kikuta 1:33
02 - A Curious Tale Hiroki Kikuta 2:27
03 - Phantom and a Rose Hiroki Kikuta 2:24
04 - Together Always Hiroki Kikuta 1:56
05 - Fond Memories Hiroki Kikuta 1:44
06 - Into the Thick of It Hiroki Kikuta 3:24
07 - The Color of the Summer Sky Hiroki Kikuta 2:18
08 - Dancing Animals Hiroki Kikuta 2:19
09 - Distant Thunder Hiroki Kikuta 3:17
10 - The Little Sprite Hiroki Kikuta 1:28
11 - Secret of the Arid Sands Hiroki Kikuta 1:51
12 - What the Forest Taught Me Hiroki Kikuta 1:51
13 - A Wish Hiroki Kikuta 1:43
14 - Spirit of the Night Hiroki Kikuta 2:41
15 - Danger Hiroki Kikuta 4:13
16 - Calm before the Storm Hiroki Kikuta 3:45
17 - The Wind Never Ceases Hiroki Kikuta 2:07
18 - Flight into the Unknown Hiroki Kikuta 2:39
19 - Eternal Romance Hiroki Kikuta 2:59
The Legend Hiroki Kikuta 2:44
21 - A Bell is Tolling Hiroki Kikuta 2:44
22 - A Curious Happening Hiroki Kikuta 1:54
23 - Monarch on the Shore Hiroki Kikuta 2:20
24 - The Dark Star Hiroki Kikuta 2:16
25 - Prophecy Hiroki Kikuta 1:14
26 - Steel and Snare Hiroki Kikuta 3:05
27 - Ceremony Hiroki Kikuta 1:42
28 - Leave Time for Love Hiroki Kikuta 2:08
29 - Still of the Night Hiroki Kikuta 5:06
30 - The Oracle Hiroki Kikuta 2:59
31 - I Won't Forget Hiroki Kikuta 1:28
32 - Meridian Dance Hiroki Kikuta 3:34
33 - Now Flightless Wings Hiroki Kikuta 2:10
34 - The Second Truth from the Left Hiroki Kikuta 4:36

T2: The Arcade Game Soundtrack (Sega Genesis)

T2: The Arcade Game Soundtrack (Sega Genesis), Matt Furniss, 1993

Game developers certainly didn’t pass up the opportunity to make the most of the blockbuster juggernaut that was Terminator 2: Judgment Day. At the time the third-highest grossing movie worldwide (behind Star Wars and E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial), James Cameron’s work prompted numerous video game adaptations. In fact, when Midway ported their arcade rail shooter Terminator 2: Judgment Day to home consoles, they had to change its name to T2: The Arcade Game, to differentiate it from the already existing T2 games. That didn’t stop Midway Manufacturing Company from porting the game to as many platforms as possible – even to those that don’t seem like obvious candidates for a rail shooter (the Game Boy?)

The arcade original, with its polished presentation, remains fondly remembered. The reception of its many ports was quite varied. The Genesis adaptation fared well enough, with reviewers agreeing it offered a fun opportunity to blast away at robots – as long as you didn’t mind the inherently limited rail shooter gameplay. As was often the case at the time, each port received an original soundtrack – and the Genesis game was lucky enough to be scored by Matt Furniss.

The year prior, Furniss had scored the Genesis, Game Gear and Sega Master System versions of The Terminator. Those soundtracks – despite their obvious qualities – were a bit too short on substance to qualify as classics (although Furniss coaxed some imposing, hefty bass sounds out of the Game Gear and Master System). The T2: The Arcade Game soundtrack is Furniss’ strongest entry in the franchise, the best T2: The Arcade Game score and an intriguing addition to the Terminator franchise’s musical universe. While Geoff Follin and Tommy Tallarico used their franchise assignments to write either experimental sound collages or 80s-inspired, hook-laden pop/rock, Furniss takes the most obvious approach: an all-guns-blazing, unrelenting action score.

Like the game, the T2: The Arcade Game soundtrack knows not to outstay its welcome. Clocking in at less than 15 minutes, the score hits hard from the get-go. Furniss’ masterful handling of the Genesis’ Yamaha YM2612 sound chip is well-known, and T2: The Arcade Game might be one of his crowning achievements. Each instrument has both a crystal-clear sound and a powerful presence that are an absolute delight. Fitting for a game with such an industrial, futuristic narrative, it’s particularly the percussion that steals the spotlight and not surprisingly, Furniss builds his tracks around densely layered rhythms. The drum sounds that Furniss teases out of the Genesis hardware are stunningly forceful and crisp. If one was to look for a demonstration of where the Genesis surpassed the SNES’ sound capacities, the T2: The Arcade Game soundtrack would be a prime example.

Right from the start, “Mission 1”’s hard-hitting drums ramp up the energy and tension. They contrast nicely with the more measured synth lines that at times turn surprisingly melodic, ringing out like majestic guitar chords. This explosive mix is bolstered by a busy, supple bass that allows Furniss to keep this mix of energetic and cinematically sweeping elements constantly moving. While Furniss obviously knows how to write adrenaline-driven compositions, there’s no shortage of melodies and potent atmospherics on the T2: The Arcade Game soundtrack.

On later tracks, Furniss varies his compositions by changing the nature of their rhythmic attack. “Mission 2” and “Mission 4” make extensive use of syncopations and poly-rhythmic percussion layers, moving the previously hard rock-tinged music closer towards prog rock and dance music. Furniss marries this outburst of frantic energy with more fragmented melodies – they help guide listeners through these whirlwind compositions that keep delivering new ideas at a frightening pace. On the short, trenchant “Mission 4”, Furniss is happy to indulge in the music’s disorienting effect, with an erratic synth lead that contributes to the panic-stricken mood. On “Mission 2”, he anchors his cue through a constantly pumping bassline that feels more threatening than empowering. Of course, “Boss Theme” turns out to be the soundtrack’s fastest, most single-minded track and its hyperactive bass and furious speed are really all it requires to sustain its short run time.

The T2: The Arcade Game soundtrack changes its tack a bit on “Mission 3” and “Mission 5”, turning into something a bit more grooving. “Mission 3” opens with a head-nodding hip hop influence, while the synth leads become more active and intricate. Once more, Furniss builds a potently claustrophobic, dystopian atmosphere and underpins it with a complex rhythmic web – pay attention to the snare that travels between the stereo speakers, subtly enhancing the soundscape.

Final level track “Mission 5” turns out to be the T2: The Arcade Game soundtrack’s most intriguing cue. For the first time, Furniss sets the scene rather than jumping into the action right away – it’s the melodic outburst at 0:48 after a relatively quiet start that really brings the track to life. Furniss delivers an anthemic tune, but its chromatic resolution and the impossibly heavy bass chords gnawing at the music drag the melody down just as it is about to soar. This kind of emotional complexity comes unexpected, but it’s another example of Furniss’ exemplary attention to detail on what is one of the Sega Genesis’ most vividly realised scores.

01 - Mission 1 Furniss, Matt 2:16
02 - Mission 2 Furniss, Matt 2:05
03 - Mission 3 Furniss, Matt 2:18
04 - Mission 4 Furniss, Matt 1:19
05 - Mission 5 Furniss, Matt 2:38
06 - Boss Theme Furniss, Matt 1:17

The 7th Saga Soundtrack

The 7th Saga Soundtrack, Norihiko Yamanuki, 1993

It’s probably no surprise that sometimes, games are remembered not for the whole of their various strengths and shortcomings, but rather simply for their most outstanding and pronounced feature. And so when seasoned gamers think back to developer Produce’s The 7^th Saga, what’s brought up first isn’t so much the game’s peculiarly sombre atmosphere, or the variety of characters to control. Instead, what dominates retrospective conversations about The 7^th Saga is its absolutely unforgiving difficulty level (dialed up for the US release), which required hours and hours of grinding right from the very start. It’s a shame then that its reputation as the SNES’ most difficult RPG often overshadows The 7^th Saga’s several accomplishments.

One of these is a surprisingly understated, at times haunting score by Norihiko Yamanuki that plays counter to almost all JRPG clichés and norms. It’s difficult to contextualise the stylistic surprise that is the The 7^th Saga soundtrack within Yamanuki’s body of work – mainly because his discography is so small. Outside of The 7^th Saga, the only game music credit for Yamanuki identifiable on English-language websites is Madou Ou Granzort, a solid if not outstanding PC Engine score.

Maybe this lack of context is for the better – this way, the The 7^th Saga soundtrack remains an intriguing mystery, a beautifully executed curiosity. What’s most striking about the score is just how subdued and introspective it is – even more so than an RPG soundtrack like Secret of Evermore that consciously avoids any overt display of melodramatics. Opening track “Beginning of a Tale” sets the prevailing mood right away, with a serene, distant flute melody floating atop layers of ticking, clockwork-like sounds, creatively accented by tuba notes.

There’s a duality and tension at work in “Beginning of a Tale” that comes to characterise the score as a whole and which makes the The 7^th Saga soundtrack such an interesting work. On the one hand, much of the score can feel elusive, far removed, as if playing from a cold, distant realm (no surprise that one overworld track is titled “Frozen Depths of the Earth”). But on the other hand, Yamanuki balances the compositions’ chilly inertia with long-winded, lovely melodies that return warmth to the music’s frosty bones.

The whole balancing act is a bit more complicated than that though. The music’s general sparseness and downcast mood would be a poor match for bluntly gushing melodies using the orchestra’s full forces. That means a careful compositional hand is required to find the right way to introduce melodicism to The 7^th Saga. Yamanuki beautifully masters the challenge by making some striking, creative instrument choices. He hands many of the soundtrack’s melodies to reed organs or flutes – rarely used instruments in a JRPG. Their rustic timbres give the music a home-spun, low-key feel that perfectly fits the score’s reserved demeanour. But these instruments do more than just that: they also heighten the music’s emotional effect through their unshowy charm.

Such focus on chamber music-sized orchestrations and quite minimalist material works just fine, thanks to Yamanuki’s melodic gifts. Often enough, he is happy to compose one single, non-repeating lead melody that plays for nearly the entirety of a composition. “Fortress City” is a beautiful example of Yamanuki’s ability to captivate with just a few ingredients – a hushed flute lead against soft percussion is all that is required to cast the music’s potent spell. “Wilme Pelin” doesn’t stray from the formula, but shows how romantic the The 7^th Saga soundtrack can feel at times. And even the near-ambient nature of “Kamil Dowonna” doesn’t wear thin thanks to Yamanuki’s melodic gifts.

There are occasions when the score turns colder and more forbidding though. Tellingly enough, this happens particularly on the game’s world map themes. The storytelling intention – and effect – is clear. Yamanuki produces the musical image of a vast world – but not through the genre-typical bombast, but instead through much quieter means. Calm instrument soli echo in the distance on “World Map” and “The Farthest Reaches”, playing their lonely melodies in an immense, empty space – a quiet world that has been lying dormant for ages. It’s a refreshingly different take on what ‘epic’ game music can sound like.

A bleak march like “Frozen Depths of the Earth” confronts its forlorn, tinkling arpeggio lead with thundering timpani, relentless snare drums and heavy string chords. At times, the same desolate mood seeps into the character themes. “Lux Tizer”’s almost ghostly synth melody consists as much of actual notes as of their echoes, purposefully diminishing the melody line’s presence. The effect perfectly captures the character’s bottomlessly melancholic nature as one of the last survivors of its race, ultimately bound to perish.

That’s not to say there’s no fun to be had on the The 7^th Saga soundtrack. Yamanuki uses the score’s earthy nature to also generate a few light-hearted, ingratiating moments. “Esuna Busy”’s tribal opening suddenly turns into something more playful, with a sprightly, almost mischievous flute lead. Still more upbeat is “Olvan Jaess”’ bouncy flute solo. “Lively Village”’s acoustics might put its instruments at a curious remove – as if the music played like the recollection of a dream – but that only turns out to be an intriguing counter effect to the cue’s animated woodwind melodies. And then there’s “Mecha Glider”, the soundtrack’s lone moment of soaring, anthemic melodicism – and Yamanuki absolutely nails this unexpected outburst of explorative spirit.

Not everything on the The 7^th Saga soundtrack works. Often, when the setting calls for more declamatory expressions of drama or adventurousness – particularly on the battle tracks, but also on a piece like “The Seven Apprentices” – Yamanuki struggles to reconcile his meandering tendencies with the need to drive the music forward. As a result, “The Seven Apprentices” feels far too drawn out and the battle cues suffer from inflexible rhythms – and a final boss track like “Battle in a World of Fading Hope” feels downright inappropriate with its awkward bounciness. That said, “Epic Confrontation” and its aggressive, dissonant string layers create a surprising amount of intensity, while conforming to the soundtrack’s relatively static nature.

Within the vast catalogue of SNES games, there is little before or after The 7^th Saga that sounds like this inspired realisation of a truly original approach to RPG scoring, eschewing the genre’s eclecticism to concoct a cohesive sound world all of its own.

01 - Beginning of a Tale (Title) Norihiko Yamanuki 1:01
02 - Esuna Busy (Town 1) Norihiko Yamanuki 1:56
03 - Fortress City (Town 2) Norihiko Yamanuki 1:58
04 - Equipment on Sale (Shop) Norihiko Yamanuki 1:06
05 - Valsu Seizer (Church) Norihiko Yamanuki 1:24
06 - Lux Tizer (Overworld 1) Norihiko Yamanuki 2:31
07 - Lively Village (Village 1) Norihiko Yamanuki 1:30
08 - Epic Confrontation (Boss Battle) Norihiko Yamanuki 2:28
09 - Wilme Pelin (Ruins) Norihiko Yamanuki 1:48
10 - World Map (Overworld 2) Norihiko Yamanuki 2:49
11 - Olvan Jaess (Village 2) Norihiko Yamanuki 2:21
12 - The Farthest Reaches (Overworld 3) Norihiko Yamanuki 2:43
13 - Troglodytes! Norihiko Yamanuki 1:40
14 - Kamil Dowonna (Overworld 4) Norihiko Yamanuki 3:06
15 - How to Cross an Ocean (Ship - Submarine) Norihiko Yamanuki 2:33
16 - Mecha Glider Norihiko Yamanuki 1:30
17 - Gorsia's Death March (Gorsia Defeated) Norihiko Yamanuki 2:38
18 - A Long Awaited Rest (Destruction of Melenam) Norihiko Yamanuki 1:10
19 - Hero's Rebirth (Staff Roll) Norihiko Yamanuki 1:56

The Terminator Soundtrack (SEGA CD)

The Terminator Soundtrack (Sega CD), Tommy Tallarico, 1993

Discussing Tommy Tallarico’s contribution to video game music can be a frustrating undertaking. On the one hand, there’s no doubt that he has helped to popularise game music like few others artists. His Video Games Live concerts have been a tremendous success, bringing game music to huge live audiences. On top of that, Tallarico has been instrumental in giving game composers better representation in the music industry through the foundation of G.A.N.G. (Game Audio Network Guild).

Unfortunately, for Tallarico the promotion of game music seems to go hand in hand with the promotion of his rock star persona. His claim to be “considered the person most instrumental in changing the game industry from bleeps & bloops to real music” is one example of his outsized claims to fame that are contentious, to say the least. Compounding matters is the fact that the majority of Tallarico’s scores don’t live up to the hype. Starting with the Game Boy conversion of Prince of Persia, Tallarico’s soundtracks usually fall somewhere between average and promising. However, they rarely stand out as classics, despite their at times fantastic sound quality, for example on the Sega Genesis version of Cool Spot.

One exception to the rule is the Terminator soundtrack for the Sega CD – easily Tallarico’s best game score. Again, Tallarico interferes with his claim that The Terminator “was the first game to ever use a live guitar!” That’s a downright ludicrous statement, particularly for someone who said in an interview he got his first job in the game industry because he wore a TurboGrafx-16 shirt. Remember that the TurboGrafx-CD introduced Red Book audio and live instruments to game music all the way back in 1988.

Just focus on the music and it becomes obvious that Tallarico’s song writing skills are absolutely first-rate. What he aims for on the Terminator soundtrack is not so much traditional game underscoring. Instead, Tallarico pens a string of pop/rock songs that just happen to feature no vocals (often enough, the guitar and synth melodies are written such that they could function as vocal melodies, if performed by a singer). It’s an unusual approach, but Tallarico’s exuberance helps him deliver some of Western game music’s best rock tracks.

‘Exuberance’ is not necessarily a term you would readily associate with the Terminator franchise and its trademark sonic signature – Brad Fiedel’s bleak, percussion-heavy scores for the first two Terminator films. Tallarico’s approach is almost the exact emotional opposite (and very different from pretty much any other video game in the Terminator franchise as well). Listen to “This Way”, which kicks off with a downright bouncy, happy synth fanfare that could be the playful little cousin to the clarion call that opens Van Halen’s “Jump”. It’s borderline cheesy, but also fantastically catchy and impossible to get out of your head.

And that description applies to pretty much all of Tallarico’s melodies on the Terminator soundtrack. In other words, if you expect his game score to sound like the Terminator movies, you’re in for a disappointment. However, Tallarico’s score feels so inextinguishably uplifting and empowering that it is actually the perfect fit for an action-packed shoot’n’run. Taken on its own terms then, Tallarico’s soundtrack is a resounding success that has the compositional strength to back up its idiosyncratic take on a pre-existing franchise.

That earlier comparison to mid-80s Van Halen gives you an idea of what Tallarico is going for stylistically. This is unabashedly melodic, synth-heavy stadium rock that brings together pop and metal influences. Both sides are in perfect balance throughout the Terminator soundtrack. Tallarico’s searing guitar-shredding and solid riffing add gritty virtuoso energy, while his pop instincts keep the music easily approachable. The icing on this delicious cheesecake is the glossy, flawless album production. It coats everything in a big and shiny sound – a perfect match for this sort of 80s rock bombast.

This sort of music lives and dies on the strength of its melodies and hooks, and Tallarico delivers in spades. In fact, the Terminator soundtrack compares favourably with classics of the 2d shoot’n’run genre like Chris Hülsbeck’s Turrican scores. If you’re having doubts, head to “Destinationz Unknown”, this soundtrack’s piece de resistance. Earlier on the album, “Future Shock” – the score’s most straightforward, chugging riff rocker – had already proven Tallarico’s ability to identify a relatively simple melodic or rhythmic idea that can support a whole composition.

“Destinationz Unknown” takes this approach further, showing Tallarico in perfect control of both song structure and his rock star showmanship. The track’s base is an anthemic, instantly memorable piano motif. It’s the sort of melody REO Speedwagon and Journey built their hit singles on. The motif’s circular nature allows Tallarico to easily layer drums, guitars and synth choir on top of the piano line. The result is a constantly growing composition with irresistible momentum, as it spirals higher and higher towards stadium rock heaven. Another one of Tallarico’s blinding guitar soli tops off the bombastic climax, taking the track to its deliciously overblown conclusion.

Ultimately, there is one claim that Tallarico can very credible make regarding the Terminator soundtrack – it does push Western game music closer to the pop/rock mainstream than any other game score had done before.

01 - Taking to the Air Tommy Tallarico 3:25
02 - Future Shock Tommy Tallarico 4:40
03 - Destinationz Unknown Tommy Tallarico 5:10
04 - This Way Tommy Tallarico 4:09
05 - Visions Tommy Tallarico 4:17
06 - On Your Side Tommy Tallarico 3:28
07 - Metamorphosis Tommy Tallarico 3:38