1996 Archives - The Greatest Game Music

Diablo Soundtrack

Diablo Soundtrack, Matt Uelmen, 1996

When Blizzard announced Diablo III at the 2008 Blizzcon Worldwide International, they chose a simple way to do so. All guitarist Laurence Juber had to do was to play the first few chords of the original Diablo’s signature tune. Of course, the piece in question was Matt Uelmen’s immortal “Tristram”. And according to Diablo III’s lead composer Russell Brower “over 10,000 people in the room knew EXACTLY what was coming”. Such is the power of a truly classic soundtrack composition that it can become the most memorable and thus quickest reference to the game or film it accompanied. That makes it all the more remarkable that it took 15 years for this composition – and the rest of Diablo’s music – to get a soundtrack release.

No wonder that “Tristram” is still fondly remembered by millions of gamers. In short, Uelmen’s composition is a masterpiece of subtly evoked atmosphere. Those opening strummed guitar chords herald a piece that still remains fascinating for its ambiguous, multi-layered atmosphere.

Indeed, like the rest of the Diablo soundtrack, “Tristram” alludes to danger, but at the same time keeps it just out of reach and in the shadows, never fully revealed and hard to identity, yet constantly present and inescapable. Key to “Tristram”’s success is Uelmen’s astonishing creativity as he finds new ways to manipulate his guitar material. With constant virtuosity, Uelmen tweaks his guitar lines into surprising dissonances and off-kilter fade outs that catch listeners by surprise. Combine this with a tasteful orchestral background that adds feelings of both foreboding and sorrow, and you’ve got a classic piece of game music that gives a piercing glimpse into the mood and psychology of a haunted location.

Much has been written about how “Tristram”’s guitar focus and sombre mood deviate from more standard, orchestral fantasy fare. According to Uelmen, his individualistic approach was a natural result of one band’s influence that he felt managed to capture a mystic, medieval vibe. That band was Led Zeppelin and particularly their third album, with its strong folk overtones. But even if “Tristram” sees Uelmen channeling the influence of Jimmy Page’s characteristic multiple guitar overlays, it’s a spectacular achievement to write a piece that rivals Led Zeppelin’s best folk tracks AND to give the music its own spooky, unsettling twist.

Of course, there’s more to the Diablo soundtrack than just “Tristram” – let’s not forget the dungeon tracks. Much more abstract than “Tristram”, these compositions are equally potent mood setters, if not quite as creative. What they share with “Tristram” is their resolve to eschew the common musical fantasy template, albeit in a different way. There’s no trace of heroism or romanticism found on these dungeon tracks – only stark horror.

To that end, Uelmen deploys a number of familiar horror score techniques on the Diablo soundtrack: deep, droning celli and double basses; unsettling, whining violin glissandi (particularly prominent and effective on “Catacombs”); wordless vocals that range from disembodied choirs to eerie moans; pounding percussion ringing out from the depths of the dungeons. However, there are two things that elevate Diablo far above the rank of a derivative horror score. Firstly, despite their quite minimalist nature, Diablo‘s dungeon tracks all develop well during their running time. They patiently roll out their slow-burning, tense ambiance until the listener has been truly sucked into their sinister world. Yes, the ingredients may be familiar. However, Uelmen still manages to deploy them effectively on compositions that sometimes border on twisted sound collages.

The other part of Uelmen’s formula for success is that he mixes in rock elements. Rarely heard in fantasy games, they work wonders for Diablo‘s chilling mood that becomes even more alienating through the tension between rock and orchestral sounds. The stomping drum rhythms on “Dungeon” and “Catacombs” add nervous energy and maliciousness to these tracks. Not surprisingly, the score’s contemporary elements harken back to a genre that is all about evoking doom and gloom. Uelmen reaches back to Gothic rock here, particularly in its early 80’s incarnation. “Caves” for example feels like a welcome throwback to early Killing Joke albums. A big percussion beat mercilessly drives the composition forward with tribal energy and fanatic focus. Meanwhile, distorted electric guitars gnaw and tear at the music’s fabric.

The Diablo soundtrack shows Uelmen finding a way to marry guitars, electronics and orchestra in a way no other Western game music composer had achieved before. And while Diablo is Uelmen’s most monochrome game score, it bears the hallmarks of all his future works. Chief among these are the masterful handling of constantly shifting textures, evoked by genre-bending instrument combinations and studio manipulations. At their best, these characteristics bend Uelmen’s music into otherworldly dreamscapes, elusive and perpetually fascinating.

01 - Tristram (Diablo Version) Matt Uelmen 4:49
02 - Dungeon Matt Uelmen 4:23
03 - Catacombs Matt Uelmen 5:50
04 - Caves Matt Uelmen 4:57
05 - Hell Matt Uelmen 4:08

Donkey Kong Land 2 Soundtrack

Donkey Kong Land 2 Soundtrack, Grant Kirkhope / David Wise, 1996

When Donkey Kong Country was released on the SNES in 1994, it was hailed as a technical marvel that very few people would have expected to see on the ageing hardware. When Rare released a Game Boy port called Donkey Kong Land a year later, jaws hit the floor again. How could those Silicon Graphics workstations-rendered 3D sprites possibly translate to the monochrome Game Boy display? Turns out it was possible to bring those pre-rendered graphics to the 4-bit platform – although the result was visually overly busy and impacted gameplay.

One year later, Rare released Donkey Kong Land 2 – the Game Boy port of Donkey Kong Country 2: Diddy’s Kong Quest. This time, the developers had figured out how to keep the visuals less cluttered and the game more playable. True, reviewers pointed out the lack of original content – DKL2 was more or less a straight port of DKC2. However, the SNES original’s outstanding gameplay qualities made the Game Boy version one of the system’s best platformers.

While the game itself didn’t offer much that was new, it definitely marked one beginning: that of composer Grant Kirkhope’s tenure at Rare, which would yield several classic game scores. Having played trumpet and guitar in British bands for years, Kirkhope connected with Rare through his friend Robin Beanland (who was looking for a guitar player for Killer Instinct 2). Five demo tapes later, Kirkhope landed the job at Rare, just as the company was about to become huge after Nintendo bought 49% of it.

After his work on Killer Instinct 2, Kirkhope was handed what he described as “the lowest job, which was the Game Boy job”. That job – Donkey Kong Land 2 – turned out to be almost overwhelmingly daunting, to the point that Kirkhope considering resigning from his job. While he had help from David Wise, working in hex while porting one of the SNES most cutting-edge scores to the humble Game Boy was an enormous challenge. It all worked out fine though, with Kirkhope saying that “I actually enjoyed it in the end, and it became a sort of challenge to see how far I could push the Game Boy.”

And yes, the Donkey Kong Land 2 soundtrack does push the Game Boy. It isn’t one of those whizz-bank Game Boy scores that appeared towards the end of 1990s, which coaxed an ungodly amount of musical activity and competing melody lines out of the hardware’s four channels. But the soundtrack does manage something quite astounding: it retains a good amount of the SNES original’s atmospheric richness and variety – and of course, its melodic beauty. For a first-time composer working with a platform and programming language he hadn’t used before, it’s an amazing accomplishment – even if Kirkhope was working off Wise’s material.

While converting DKC 2’s music to the Game Boy might seem like a fool’s errand, the SNES score is arguably the most melody-focused of the first three DKC soundtracks – and thus the best candidate for a chiptunes port. Not surprisingly, Kirkhope foregoes Wise’s carefully sculpted soundscaping and – by necessity – puts the focus squarely on the soundtrack’s melodies.

Assessing his work on the Donkey Kong Land 2 soundtrack, Kirkhope modestly stated that what he did was “a straight conversion of the music that Dave Wise had written note for note.” That’s not entirely true – just listen to Kirkhope’s version of “In a Snow-Bound Land”. On the SNES, this was the soundtrack’s wispiest, most fragile track. Kirkhope manages to retain the lead melody’s dreamy, lilting quality, despite the Game Boy’s fairly coarse timbres. He also isolates an arpeggio figure that was subtly present on the SNES track and gives it a much more prominent role, moving it into the foreground where it helps create the composition’s almost hypnotic quality. This sort of careful rearrangement and working with the Game Boy’s few duty cycles to give melodies the desired character is certainly more than a simple note by note conversion.

Other wonders of subtlety like “Stickerbush Symphony” and “Bayou Boogie” yield equally enchanting results on the Donkey Kong Land 2 soundtrack. “Stickerbush Symphony” might lack its original tinge of mystery, but its air of blissful serenity still comes across, just like the melodies’ contemplative beauty. On “Bayou Boogie”, Kirkhope replaces Wise’s layers of sound effects and textures with sustained deep chords to maintain the original’s oppressive atmosphere. The resulting brooding mood only serves to highlight the lead melody’s wistful nature all the more effectively. Other tracks like the jazzy “Snakey Chantey” are more obvious candidates for a successful translation to the Game Boy, thanks to its reliance on swinging rhythms and melodies, rather than gorgeous atmospherics.

Due to the Game Boy’s gritty noise channel and snare drum-like percussion, the Donkey Kong Island 2 soundtrack inevitably puts greater emphasis on heavy rhythms – a challenge when the original SNES score was such an understated work. Once more, Kirkhope does an outstanding job at working successfully within the Game Boy’s limitations, generally ensuring that the noise channel percussion and stronger arpeggio presence doesn’t interfere with the melodies. “Hot-Head Bop” is more of a bop now than it was before, but the greater rhythmic focus only serves to put the spotlight on the original’s impeccable groove. And the mid-90s techno of “Disco Train” makes for a mid-tempo stomper that retains the SNES composition’s variety of beats and melody bits – and its eerie undertones.

The fact that these compositions and their hardware-induced heaviness are more in-your-face than Wise’s SNES tracks even works in the favour of some cues. The undercurrent of tension that ran through the original versions of “Lockjaw Saga” and “Flight of the Zinger” explodes on the Game Boy, turning these compositions into much more outwardly dramatic compositions. Particularly “Lockjaw’s Saga” grabs listeners’ attention from the first second with its hammering percussion salvos. Again, Kirkhope does much more than simply converting Wise’s composition note by note. He strips away the layers of the SNES track and keeps exactly the right elements to turn the cue into a rousing chiptunes epic with cinematic intent and lush arpeggios. Like the game itself, the Donkey Kong Land 2 soundtrack stands on the shoulders of its big brother – but that doesn’t stop it from being one of the best in class, judged on its own merits.

01 - Welcome to Crocodile Isle (Map) Grant Kirkhope / David Wise 1:07
02 - Lockjaw's Saga (Ship Hold) Grant Kirkhope / David WiseGrant Kirkhope 1:49
03 - Snakey Chantey (Ship Deck (Swamp)) Grant Kirkhope / David WiseGrant Kirkhope 1:40
04 - Bayou Boogie (Swamp) Grant Kirkhope / David WiseGrant Kirkhope 1:54
05 - School House Harmony Grant Kirkhope / David Wise 1:45
06 - Flight of the Zinger (Zinger Hive) Grant Kirkhope / David Wise 2:33
07 - Hot-Head Bop (Lava Caves) Grant Kirkhope / David Wise 3:28
08 - Stickerbush Symphony (Bramble Maze) Grant Kirkhope / David Wise 3:51
09 - Disco Train (Amusement Park Roller Coaster) Grant Kirkhope / David Wise 3:33
10 - Boss Bossanova (Boss Battle) Grant Kirkhope / David Wise 1:13
11 - Krook's March (Castle) Grant Kirkhope / David Wise 3:37
12 - In a Snow-Bound Land (Ice Caves) Grant Kirkhope / David Wise 2:39
13 - Crocodile Cacophony (Final Battle) Grant Kirkhope / David Wise 1:53
14 - Donkey Kong Rescued (Ending & Staff Roll) Grant Kirkhope / David Wise 1:56

Enemy Zero Soundtrack

Enemy Zero Soundtrack, Michael Nyman, 1996

Few video game auteurs have left an oeuvre as intriguing – and divisive – as Kenji Eno. Eno fittingly came to prominence during one of experimental game design’s heydays – the mid 1990s. His company Warp became best known in the West for its D series of horror games: D, Enemy Zero and D2. Only very loosely connected with each other, these games proposed innovative gameplay and story ideas – arguably to various degrees of success. However, these titles did ultimately cement Eno’s name in game history for their unbridled audacity.

It’s certainly not Enemy Zero’s story line that is its most innovative component. The game’s narrative – a spaceship is overrun by murderous xenomorphs – takes entire portions of Alien and mixes in bits and pieces of other sci-fi classics such as Blade Runner. Far more interesting is the game’s central game play mechanic. The rampaging aliens are invisible and the only way to find and shoot them is to rely on a sonar-like system that indicates their location through changes in pitch and frequency. It was an ingenious idea that some reviewers found was implemented less smoothly than it should have been, making for one hell of a difficult game.

Usually, Eno wrote the music for his games himself. However, on Enemy Zero he outsourced scoring duties to a composer who was a less than likely choice for a survival horror game soundtrack: Michael Nyman. A renowned minimalist classical and film composer, Nyman had risen to mainstream prominence through his collaborations with director Peter Greenaway. Being able to bring Nyman on board was arguably quite a coup for Eno. This was only a few years after Nyman’s score for The Piano had sold hundreds of thousands of copies and the composer was at the height of his name recognition.

What Nyman ultimately delivered is a product that is both groundbreaking and deeply familiar. One might assume that working in a genre Nyman had never remotely touched before – sci-fi horror – would encourage him to explore new aspects of his signature minimalist style. That’s not the case on the Enemy Zero soundtrack though. The work is very much in line with Nyman’s previous movie scores that intricately layered classically-inspired motifs, ostinati and drones in unusual tone colours, often driven by breathlessly motoric rhythms. But then again, Eno hired Nyman because he liked his previous works, so a repetition of what’s been heard before is no surprise.

On the other hand, within the realm of game music, Nyman’s score is unique and arguably the only example of this particular brand of orchestral music. It is music that is not that unusual in itself, but certainly is within its context (of underscoring a sci-fi horror game). But how does Nyman’s cerebral, if accessible style work within a genre such as survival horror that is usually home to far more dissonant, harsh sounds?

As it turns out, Nyman’s score – one of his most melodic soundtracks – is a fine match for the game and its genre, but it shifts the focus away from some of the elements survival horror scores usually highlight. Just look at the various themes running through the Enemy Zero soundtrack (it bears mention that this score is significantly more thematic than Nyman’s previous movie works). Out of the three themes presented, it is the love theme that receives the most attention. It’s not a narrative element that horror games usually highlight, but there is a love story running through Enemy Zero and Nyman chooses to emphasise this aspect of the story line, rather than the alien terror and horror.

Presented like all three themes in a piano-only rendition that feels a bit lightweight to hold attention, the love theme is actually first heard on “Aspects of Love”. The composition is a thickly flowing string adagio full of heaving emotions and with an appropriate sense of foreboding. A strained, nearly tortured rendition of the theme on accented string chords opens “Agony”. The cue returns the melody at a time of crisis and under attack, carried by a wordless solo soprano battling alternately jabbing and dissonantly floating musical forces. Suitably, “The Last Movement” resolves all conflict by building its structure around elating renditions of the love theme.

The fact that the second prominent theme on the Enemy Zero soundtrack is that of its protagonist (Laura) shows how much more character-centric Nyman’s work is compared to the usual horror genre fare. Laura’s theme is probably the Enemy Zero soundtrack’s most immediately recognisable melody, functioning as the score’s calm, reassuring core. Presented first on solo piano on “Laura’s Theme”, it features more fetchingly on “Lamentation”. Here, the solo soprano – as on “Agony” – amplifies the melody’s emotional force through its operatic expression. “Laura’s Dream” underlines the theme’s innate optimism and hope with its tender string and piano orchestration.

It’s this level of emotional impact and involvement that helps the more genre-typical portions of the Enemy Zero soundtrack hit their mark. Now that we care about the characters, we also care about the danger they are in. A chromatically descending theme announces dread on “Digital Tragedy”, “Digital Complex” and “Malfunction”. Ironically – given how much Enemy Zero avoids horror stereotypes – “Digital Tragedy” and “Digital Complex” feel like they are playing too close to genre clichés. “Malfunction” is far stronger, presenting the theme in a fuller orchestration and finding just the right balance between animated nervousness and slowly encroaching unease.

Finally, the Michael Nyman Band unleashes all that built-up tension on a quartet of pieces (“Confusion”, “Enemy Zero”, “Invisible Enemy” and “Battle”). These frantically driven pieces are a masterclass in how to write energetic ostinati-based compositions that despite their obvious repetition never become monotonous, helped by melodies that are dramatic and unusually declamatory (by Nyman’s standards). These pieces are as densely and carefully layered as anything that Nyman has written for the movies. It’s obvious he didn’t treat the Enemy Zero soundtrack with any less care than the works he created in mediums he was more familiar with. These invigorating battle tracks round off one of the game music’s most satisfying subversion of genre expectations.

01 - Confusion Michael Nyman 3:45
02 - Aspects of Love Michael Nyman 3:52
03 - Enemy Zero Michael Nyman 4:20
04 - Lamentation Michael Nyman 3:35
05 - Invisible Enemy Michael Nyman 2:12
06 - Laura's Dream Michael Nyman 4:04
07 - Agony Michael Nyman 3:15
08 - Malfunction Michael Nyman 4:02
09 - Battle Michael Nyman 3:48
10 - The Last Movement Michael Nyman 3:44

Formula 1 Soundtrack

Formula 1 Soundtrack, Mike Clarke / Stuart Ellis, 1996

If you developed a racing video game in the mid-90s, there was apparently little choice other than to score it with electronic beats. And few companies knew this rule as well as Psygnosis. After all, they actually helped write this musical law with their enormously successful Wipeout franchise. Those games helped to take video game soundtracks into the mainstream like few other titles before.

Keeping this in mind, it’s surprising that 1996’s Formula 1 received a straight out, pure-bred hard rock/metal score. The masterminds behind Formula 1‘s revved-up beauty of a soundtrack are Mike Clarke and Stuart Ellis. While Ellis joined the project as a session guitarist, Clarke’s name will be more familiar to game music aficionados. As Psygnosis’ Sound Director, Clarke had mainly worked on Amiga titles before leaping into the CD console era. He would later return to work on the less remarkable Formula One 99. However, more helpful musical references for Formula 1 from Clarke’s career are Lifeforce Tenka and Destruction Derby Raw.

All three scores are guitar-driven howls of instrumental force. But the Formula 1 soundtrack doesn’t go for the grime and grit of the lesser Destruction Derby Raw, or for Lifeforce Tenka‘s processed, haunting feel. Instead, Formula 1‘s pristine instrument sounds and the technical exactitude of its hundreds-of-notes-a-minute guitar soli match the immaculate high-tech precision of the racing cars that this music underscores.

Psygnosis also licensed music from guitar virtuosos Steve Vai and Joe Satriani for the Formula 1 soundtrack. That of course meant that the pressure was on Psygnosis’ in-house musicians to match such instrumental prowess. Thankfully, when necessary, Stuart Ellis certainly lives up to the note-shredding standards set by these guitar gods. At the same time, Formula 1 never turns into a hollow display of instrumental pyrotechnics.

“Track 1” kicks proceedings off with rock-solid, crunchy hard rock riffage and a comfortable groove. Its bluesy feel might be a rarity on the album, but smoothly eases listeners into the album. “Track 7” later revisits the same sort of groove-rock feel. It’s the kind of metal that’s confident enough to rely on a great riff and let it work its magic. Of course, there’s no shortage of guitar showmanship during these tracks’ soli.

“Track 2” and “Track 11” are more pressing and urgent affairs. The music picks up speed and mental images of cars racing at breathtaking speeds are impossible to suppress. Ellis once more proves that his riffs are just as excellent as his soli, and like other cues, “Track 2” slows down to catch its breath at the beginning of its last third, before putting the pedal to the metal for a furious finale.

When you put together fast cars and hard rock, it’s difficult not to think of “Highway Star”. And indeed, “Track 3” does sport shades of Deep Purple. A Hammond organ not only adds splashes of colour and character, but also underlines the influence that Ritchie Blackmore’s work has on Formula 1‘s sound. Judas Priest, Iron Maiden and Van Halen are other valid points of references that identify the Formula 1 soundtrack as a first-rate representative of classic heavy metal.

Things only get better with “Track 4”, whose soli tear into the song with hair-raising intensity. Still more interesting is the cue’s central riff. It’s a rhythmically tricky, yet unexpectedly grooving show stopper that might be the album’s most creative single musical idea. It regularly trades places with monolithic jack hammer riffing, backed by the album’s first pronounced use of double bass drums. True, the drumming and bass lines of Formula 1 don’t attract as much attention as the guitar fireworks. Still, their rhythmic support is never less than flawless and at all times maintains the album’s exuberant energy.

After the heaviness of the preceding cues, “Track 5” is a welcome breather. With its care-free attitude, “Track 5” barrels down the race track with a big grin on its face. Of course, there’s still space for lightning-fast guitar soli that lead to a huge, euphoric finale. That moment of exhilaration is followed by the Formula 1 soundtrack’s most creative concoction, “Track 6”. Clarke and Ellis prove their versatility and mix in funk elements that are as energetic as their rock counterparts, but lighter on their feet. The cue’s stroke of genius is the way it electronically chops up the guitar riffs during its B section. It then tosses shreds of the riff across the stereo field, in a way that cleverly matches the tracks’ opening stuttering funk rhythms, but in entirely unexpected ways.

The score’s other noteworthy genre experiment takes place on “Track 10”. A particularly sludgy riff and growling bass lines make for the Formula 1 soundtrack’s grimiest track yet. Unexpectedly, Clarke and Ellis balance this focus on the bottom end with swelling and tinkling synth pads. Initially (as on “Track 9”), their job is to provide the guitar soli with an amorphous, cinemascope-sized backdrop, so they feel even larger than life than they already did before. But then, “Track 10” even drops guitars entirely during its mid-section. Instead, it throws in an unexpectedly atmospheric section dominated by those whale call-synths – before crashing back into the grinding opening riff with fierce abandon. You couldn’t ask for a more satisfying conclusion of one of game music’s best metal scores.

01 - Track 1 Mike Clarke / Stuart Ellis 2:38
02 - Track 2 Mike Clarke / Stuart Ellis 2:53
03 - Track 3 Mike Clarke / Stuart Ellis 2:54
04 - Track 4 Mike Clarke / Stuart Ellis 2:48
05 - Track 5 Mike Clarke / Stuart Ellis 2:58
06 - Track 6 Mike Clarke / Stuart Ellis 3:05
07 - Track 7 Mike Clarke / Stuart Ellis 3:16
08 - Track 8 Mike Clarke / Stuart Ellis 2:34
09 - Track 9 Mike Clarke / Stuart Ellis 2:52
10 - Track 10 Mike Clarke / Stuart Ellis 2:51
11 - Track 11 Mike Clarke / Stuart Ellis 3:13

Gokinjo Bouken Tai Soundtrack

Gokinjo Bouken Tai Soundtrack, Akihiko Mori, 1996

Gokinjo Bouken Tai is one of those 16-bit games that could have only come out of Japan – and of course was never released anywhere else. It’s a joyous, upbeat adventure, befitting its protagonist – young kindergartner Mana, who lives in a small Japanese town with her family. What makes Mana special is her ability to see and interact with youkai – Japanese spirits, gods and demons. Gokinjo Bouken Tai’s gameplay arguably hews closely to traditional JRPG tropes. However, its anime-inspired, unusual setting and the obvious love and care that has gone into creating its colourful world turn it into a small, largely undiscovered gem.

Approaching the end of his sadly short career – and coming off the creative triumph that was Mystic Ark – composer Akihiko Mori turns in another outstanding effort, once more expanding his stylistic palette while maintaining the strengths that had made previous works so outstanding. Given the game’s quirkiness and its kindergarten-aged protagonist, it’s no surprise that the Gokinjo Bouken Tai soundtrack is more overtly child-friendly than a magnum opus like Mystic Ark or a whirlwind action score like Shien’s Revenge. But this is children’s music done right – with just as much care for substance and attention to detail as any great work of art, regardless of genre.

The Gokinjo Bouken Tai soundtrack begins as you would expect. Mori had dabbled to some degree in pop-inspired, anime music-influenced styles on Wonder Project J, but Gokinjo Bouken Tai’s characters and settings see him delving deeper into this style of music here. “Title” welcomes listeners with a laid-back, jazzy opening before seguing into cheery Saturday morning cartoon theme song territory. “Let’s Go!” continues in the same vein, as a buoyant march that proudly prances along. Mori clearly takes the characters he writes for – and his audience – seriously. His symphonic sensibilities are just as much on display here as on his more ‘serious’ scores – they just shift to a different emotional register (and his melodies move towards shorter phrases and greater catchiness).

As a result, despite all the cuteness initially on display on the Gokinjo Bouken Tai soundtrack, the music never remotely turns obnoxious. Hand clapping and bouncy rhythms mix merrily with densely layered orchestral elements and hints of carnivalesque charm on the amicable, cosy “Pioneer Kindergarden”. “Rest” introduces steel drums and reggae rhythms, while “Shopping District” and “Bravery” bring a jolt of energy and sing-a-long immediacy with their electric guitar leads.

The biggest non-orchestral influence on display here though is jazz. “Dungeon” surprises with some unusual location scoring, brewing a good-natured, zany mix of jazz and industrial clanging. Where Mori’s jazz writing truly excels is on “Battle”, which goes for full-on, swinging big band jazz. Moving constantly back and forth between saxophone soli, brass fanfares and solo piano, “Battle” is a riveting example of making the SPC chip sound like a jazz band jamming on stage – a constant flow of new ideas and one of the 16-bit era’s best jazz tracks.

On other tracks, Mori reverts to more traditionally classical styles, making them fit with the game’s sunny disposition. “Awakening” greets the day with intertwining woodwind lines atop a gentle acoustic guitar arpeggio. “Study” starts off similarly in the vein of an idyllic town theme, before the flute lead is joined by a solo cello for a downright swooning, richly lyrical duet. As stakes are raised towards the game’s finale on “Watanabe Tower” and “The Last Battle”, Mori again relies on the orchestra’s force and expressiveness to score the occasion. Interestingly enough, he reaches back to Mystic Ark and its antagonist theme here. Particularly “Watanabe Tower” feels at times like a rearrangement of Mystic Ark’s final battle track. However, it’s the sort of arrangement that changes the original material meaningfully, moving it from furious battle track to a slow march with strident, single-minded expression, fit for a final dungeon theme.

What’s most intriguing about the Gokinjo Bouken Tai soundtrack is another facet of the score though. Remember that Mana’s special talent is being able to talk to the local spirit world. For Mori, this is a welcome excuse to create some striking, atmospheric underscoring during the soundtrack’s second half and also explore traditional Japanese music. And so the music moves from kid-friendly orchestral pop into something far more otherworldly and even uncanny than one would have initially expected.

Mori’s sure hand for mature, sophisticated orchestrations helps these compositions cast their spell without fail. Particularly his use of chromaticism – be it in the clever horn counterpoint on “Shikushiku” or the beguiling string harmonies on “Aquarium” – evokes locations that are mysterious and fascinating. Flute soli on “Enka” and “Kappa Kingdom” denote closeness to nature, once again showing Mori’s talent with long-winded, elegant melodies. “Enka”s subtle eerieness doesn’t interrupt the composition’s lushness of tone, and its outstanding writing for solo instruments is reprised on the utterly delightful “Kappa Kingdom” and its wonderfully synthesised, dreamy cello solo. “Sewer” is another throwback to Mystic Ark – this time more in mood than material, as the track feels like a purposefully disjointed take on “Mother is the Water of all Life” and its evocative ostinato writing.

The spirit realm isn’t always a place for intrigue and wonder though, and Mori skilfully amplifies the previous compositions’ undercurrent of strangeness into sometimes agitated creepiness. “Encounter”’s crisis string motif, discordant hammered piano chords and shrieking flutes are a bit of a shock after the soundtrack’s so far good-natured mood. But the surprisingly violent and edgy cue doesn’t break the soundtrack’s stylistic consistency – previous cues have established a variety of richness and tone that allows the Gokinjo Bouken Tai soundtrack to accommodate even unexpected mood swings.

“Ghost Cave” lives up to its name, using a solo flute to much more haunting effect than other tracks, with some unsettling glissandi effects. And “Old Mansion” surprises with a busy breakdown before the cue’s loop point, when a racing piano line creatively escalates the tension that the music has built up to this point. It’s just one more surprise on a soundtrack that defies expectations on several occasions – like the game that it accompanies, a true hidden gem.

01 - Title Akihiko Mori 2:57
02 - Awakening Akihiko Mori 1:55
03 - Let's Go! Akihiko Mori 3:01
04 - Pioneer Kindergarden Akihiko Mori 2:37
05 - Dungeon Akihiko Mori 1:52
06 - Battle Akihiko Mori 3:38
07 - Boss Battle 1 Akihiko Mori 2:35
08 - Study Akihiko Mori 2:44
09 - Shikushiku Akihiko Mori 2:44
10 - Yawara Akihiko Mori 1:22
11 - Department Store Akihiko Mori 1:35
12 - Gojirin Akihiko Mori 1:15
13 - Shopping District Akihiko Mori 2:18
14 - Sewer Akihiko Mori 2:34
15 - Encounter Akihiko Mori 2:08
16 - Masked Soccer Boy J Akihiko Mori 1:54
17 - Enka Akihiko Mori 3:02
18 - Rest Akihiko Mori 2:13
19 - Bravery Akihiko Mori 3:22
20 - Kappa Kingdom Akihiko Mori 3:34
21 - Aquarium Akihiko Mori 4:18
22 - The Dolphin Show Akihiko Mori 1:14
23 - Kokoro Akihiko Mori 2:48
24 - Ghost Cave Akihiko Mori 3:46
25 - Boss Battle 2 Akihiko Mori 2:38
26 - Nanako -Stage Ver.- Akihiko Mori 3:25
27 - Mountain Akihiko Mori 3:03
28 - Old Mansion Akihiko Mori 3:22
29 - Watanabe Tower Akihiko Mori 3:52
30 - The Last Battle Akihiko Mori 2:11
31 - Good Bye... Akihiko Mori 2:03
32 - Ending Theme -Nagisa no Pretty Angel- Akihiko Mori 2:03

Heroes of Might and Magic II Soundtrack (PC)

Heroes of Might and Magic II Soundtrack (PC), Steve Baca / Rob King / Paul Romero, 1996

Even decades after its release, the Heroes of Might and Magic II soundtrack stands apart as a unique experiment. The score for Heroes of Might and Magic had clearly articulated Paul Romero and Rob King‘s immense ambition to create game music with the gravitas and impact (and cultural cache) of classical music. The result was a resounding artistic success. It’s no surprise then that Heroes of Might and Magic II‘s music amplifies its predecessor’s already lofty aspirations. But how do you make convincingly symphonically-styled music like that of Heroes of Might and Magic even more grandiose?

Romero and King – joined by King’s band mate Steve Baca – found a logical answer. They added vocals – and not just any sort of vocals. In other words: a large part of the Heroes of Might and Magic II soundtrack consists of full-blown opera arias. These days, underscoring a game with opera arias would be highly unusual. Proposing such a thing in 1996 was revolutionary – and probably a bit mad.

Calling the Heroes of Might and Magic II soundtrack ‘revolutionary’ requires some qualification though. It’s not like the composers were striving to create any sort of previously unheard, original music style. Instead, what Romero and King are doing is to take an existing form of (high-brow) artistic expression and apply it in a new context.

It’s tempting to say that the Heroes of Might and Magic II soundtrack was ahead of its time. However, considering how very few game scores followed in its footsteps, it feels more like a work that exists outside of game music conventions entirely, unlikely to ever spawn a legion of imitators (as opposed to another conservative revolutionary, Michael Giacchino‘s Medal of Honor). Stylistically, Heroes of Might and Magic II might have been a dead end. At the same time, it also signalled that from now on, the sky was the limit. If you can score your game with opera arias, what music could possibly be out of bounds for game composers?

It’s one thing to have grander ambitions – it’s another thing to pull these off successfully. But considering how intricate and refined Romero’s orchestral pieces on Heroes of Might and Magic were, it’s little surprise that his operatic compositions here feel like the real deal, and never like mere pastiche. The vocal melodies, all found on the score’s castle tracks, are impeccably composed. They possess a real sense for operatic flair and deep understanding of this musical expression. And there’s no doubt that the arias are performed to an impressive standard and run the gamut of emotions. They range from the ethereal, almost new-agey soprano strains of “Town – Sorceress” and the sinister bass bombast of “Town – Necromancer” and “Town – Warlock (Expansion)” to the restrained elation and triumph of “Town – Barbarian (Expansion)”.

The romantic era-styled opera soli carry a fantastic emotional charge and urgency with them, and Romero’s fittingly tumultuous Sturm and Drang orchestrations merge with the vocal melodies to create a work of tremendous symphonic depth and richness. His wonderful vocal melodies are backed by an orchestral backdrop that is as marvellously lavish and emotional as the arias. Romero layers the instruments in ever more colourful textures that demand repeat listens to discover all of the music’s subtleties.

It feels like Romero strives as hard as he can for truly classical scale. In the process, he once more sets a new standard for orchestral writing in Western game music. The score moves through an amazing number of moods and tone colours during its relatively short compositions. Its compositional and emotional complexity is nearly unparalleled among Western game scores. It’s a testament to Romero’s compositional skills that he harnesses the torrent of musical ideas which swirl through his pieces and shapes them into strident, coherent pieces.

Let’s not forget King and Baca’s contributions to the success of the Heroes of Might and Magic II soundtrack. Mind you, not so much their monotonous (if brief) battle cues, but instead what would become another staple of Heroes of Might and Magic games: terrain tracks. Underscoring different landscapes within the game, these pieces are far sparser, less attention-seeking affairs. They almost take the opposite approach to Romero’s cues. King and Baca only require a few solo instruments on each composition to paint vivid images of various locations.

This kind of music has no lavish orchestrations or emotional outpourings to fall back on. There are only simple melodies and carefully wrought, minimal background instrumentations – and yet these are spellbinding compositions. The fact that Heroes of Might and Magic II‘s composers are able to master two very different registers of emotional expression – operatic bombast and reflective restraint – finally cements this soundtrack’s status as one of the best orchestral scores ever composed for a video game. Its aspirations to be high art may feel overwrought to some, but the score’s audaciousness only reveals an artistic triumph.

01 - Main Menu (Midi Version) Steve Baca / Rob King / Paul Romero 1:15
02 - Town - Sorceress Steve Baca / Rob King / Paul Romero 4:10
03 - Town - Warlock Steve Baca / Rob King / Paul Romero 1:58
04 - Town - Necromancer Steve Baca / Rob King / Paul Romero 2:23
05 - Town - Knight Baca, Steve / King, Rob / Romero, Paul 2:28
06 - Town - Barbarian Steve Baca / Rob King / Paul Romero 2:04
07 - Town - Wizard Steve Baca / Rob King / Paul Romero 2:04
08 - Terrain - Lava Steve Baca / Rob King / Paul Romero 1:58
09 - Terrain - Wasteland Steve Baca / Rob King / Paul Romero 2:08
10 - Terrain - Desert Steve Baca / Rob King / Paul Romero 1:57
11 - Terrain - Snow Steve Baca / Rob King / Paul Romero 2:07
12 - Terrain - Swamp Steve Baca / Rob King / Paul Romero 2:28
13 - Terrain - Ocean Steve Baca / Rob King / Paul Romero 1:50
14 - Terrain - Dirt Steve Baca / Rob King / Paul Romero 2:00
15 - Terrain - Grass Steve Baca / Rob King / Paul Romero 2:10
16 - Roland Theme Steve Baca / Rob King / Paul Romero 0:54
17 - Main Theme Steve Baca / Rob King / Paul Romero 1:18
18 - Scenario Victory Steve Baca / Rob King / Paul Romero 1:14
19 - Town - Sorceress (Expansion) Steve Baca / Rob King / Paul Romero 2:51
20 - Town - Warlock (Expansion) Steve Baca / Rob King / Paul Romero 2:37
21 - Town - Necromancer (Expansion) Steve Baca / Rob King / Paul Romero 2:35
22 - Town - Knight (Expansion) Steve Baca / Rob King / Paul Romero 2:25
23 - Town - Barbarian (Expansion) Steve Baca / Rob King / Paul Romero 2:32
24 - Town - Wizard (Expansion) Steve Baca / Rob King / Paul Romero 2:54

Wonder Project J2 Soundtrack

Wonder Project J2 Soundtrack, Akihiko Mori, 1996

Wonder Project J was an entirely delightful SNES adventure game, but its relatively unusual storyline and gameplay mechanics – teaching a robot boy to behave like a proper human being – meant it would never be released in the West. However, the game was successful enough in Japan to warrant an N64 sequel – one of developer Almanic’s final titles (they had renamed to Givro in 1995). Interestingly enough, this time Western gaming publications took note – mainly because they had to somehow fill their pages during the continuous drought of new N64 games. Wonder Project J2 maintained its predecessor’s gameplay, gorgeous 2D graphics and main story idea – the robot that wants to become human, requiring tuition from the player, be it about small daily tasks or philosophical questions like the meaning and permanence of death.

After scoring Wonder Project J like the world’s most lavish children’s movie, Akihiko Mori returned for Wonder Project J2 – writing his last major score before he would pass away in 1998, at the age of 31, from stomach cancer. Drawing parallels between a composer’s life circumstances and the music they produce is often a fraught undertaking, but it’s hard not to take note of the Wonder Project J2 soundtrack’s wistful mood without thinking of what was ahead for Mori.

Up to this point, Mori had made a name for himself with orchestral SNES soundtracks of rare sophistication, density and melodic beauty. With the N64’s more powerful sound capacities at his fingertips, where would Mori take his music – would it become more elaborate and lush yet? Actually, Wonder Project J2 sees Mori moving in the opposite direction, both responding to and shaping the game’s more reflective mood.

Rather than with the sunny boisterousness that made Wonder Project J such a pleasure, the Wonder Project J2 soundtrack opens in a distinctly pastoral mood, with the first game’s main theme returning on solo ocarina. The game’s initial, idyllic forest setting comes to life vividly through the intertwining flute leads and harp arpeggios of “Island of Meetings and Partings”, reminiscent of Star Ocean’s similar orchestrations two years later. Compared to any of his major SNES soundtracks, Mori relies less on contrapuntal structures here – on many occasions, he is happy to have one melody, backed by unobtrusive orchestrations, carry a composition.

Of course, for a gifted melodicist like Mori, that’s not a problem – “Goodbye Dr. Gepetto”’s solo piano says farewell without any theatrics and is all the more moving for it. Whereas Wonder Project J was all about the excitement of embarking on an adventure, its successor is generally more concerned with establishing and preserving a sense of home and belonging – reassuring stasis instead of reaching out for new horizons.

Soon enough though, the panache of Mori’s earlier works returns as the Wonder Project J2 soundtrack discovers – for a while – its sense of optimism and adventure. At the centre of the score’s rising spirits are “Bon Voyage!” and “Now, Then! To the Skies!” Another one of Mori’s seamless orchestra/pop mixes and clocking in at more than five minutes when looped, “Bon Voyage!”’s melodies find the perfect middle ground between catchiness and expansive lyricism. “Now, Then! To the Skies!” is more exuberant still and proves that Mori hasn’t lost his knack for complex, colourful orchestrations.

Soon after these relative outbursts, tracks like “Loneliness” or “Theme of Colro Forest (Ocarina)” pull back the exuberance though and showcase how the Wonder Project J2 soundtrack builds upon its predecessor by taking its undercurrent of melancholia and yearning, and bringing it to the fore. There’s no doubt that Wonder Project J was an emotionally rich score, but this soundtrack – aided by a longer running time – arguably has the more complex arch. Whereas the first score was a colourful tapestry, Wonder Project J2 has a narrative drive that underscores not just the characters and their world, but also the transformation that they undergo.

This approach befits the game’s greater focus on its storyline, which actually sees the player relinquishing control for the game’s final, 45-minute cut scene. In tune with the larger scope of the game’s narrative, the Wonder Project J2 soundtrack turns significantly more tense and militaristic in its second half, evoking a level of conflict that was all but absent from its predecessor. It’s hard to deny that the score’s terser tracks are not always as melodically interesting as the mellifluous compositions that have come before, and the soundtrack’s quality is spottier than Mori’s other major works, requiring some curating to make for a smooth listening experience.

However, the narrative’s rising stakes also allow Mori to write rousing orchestral tracks like “Emergency” and “Escape”. The latter is a beautiful example of how to write an effective crisis cue that doesn’t grow stale, moving back and forth between staccato episodes and more melodically flowing sections. “Messala’s Scheme” leaves aside the Baroque sensibilities of the antagonist’s theme from Wonder Project J and trades them in for something more sinister and aggressive – happy to spell out danger rather than hinting at it while hiding behind a pompous facade. Another new addition to the score’s emotional palette is the use of choir on several tracks, again befitting the game’s larger scope and adding haunting musical colours.

The Wonder Project J2 soundtrack’s RPG-like narrative arc is completed when – after the mood turns downright desolate on “Vanished Greenery” – hope returns on the final handful of tracks. Mori returns to his large-scale orchestral sounds to bring back the score’s main theme – which shapes the soundtrack far more than on Wonder Project J – in sufficiently forceful and triumphant fashion. Ultimately though, the Wonder Project J2 soundtrack ends as it confidently yet cautiously looks towards the future (rather than rushing forth with buoyancy like Wonder Project J did). Closing the soundtrack with the same wistfulness that opens it – but mixing in more optimism – “I Believe in Tomorrow….” is a calm orchestral ballad and one final showcase of Mori’s orchestral prowess, as he carries the four-minute piece almost solely through moving woodwind variations of the main theme. It’s farewell towards an unknown future, but hope persists.

01 - Theme of Colro Forest (Opening - Josette in Colro Forest) Akihiko Mori 1:11
02 - Goodbye Dr. Gepetto (Dr. Gepetto Dies) Akihiko Mori 1:11
03 - Josette of Colro Forest (Main Theme) Akihiko Mori 2:26
04 - Island of Meetings and Partings (Blueland Island) Akihiko Mori 3:38
05 - "Let's Have a Chat!" (Inside Dolphin) Akihiko Mori 1:52
06 - Friendly Folks (Meeting People) Akihiko Mori 2:16
07 - Karen's Pub Akihiko Mori 2:43
08 - Master Chef Gourmet (Gourmet's Theme) Akihiko Mori 2:40
09 - Pleasant Days Akihiko Mori 1:20
10 - The Serious Worker (Proton Mines) Akihiko Mori 1:32
11 - Bon Voyage! (Submarine Mode) Akihiko Mori 5:35
12 - Now, Then! To the Skies! (Seaba Mode) Akihiko Mori 2:52
13 - Racing Pokko Akihiko Mori 2:05
14 - Affection (Josette with Arnold at Nighttime) Akihiko Mori 3:12
15 - Loneliness (Sapphire at the Docks) Akihiko Mori 3:32
16 - Theme of Colro Forest (Ocarina) (Memories Of Gepetto And Colro) Akihiko Mori 2:20
17 - Love (Josette's Audition at the Movie Studio) Akihiko Mori 2:07
18 - Oh Forest, Answer Me... (Blueland Forest) Akihiko Mori 1:26
19 - My Little Friend (Josette Meets Klara) Akihiko Mori 2:04
20 - Emergency (Battle Scene) Akihiko Mori 2:38
21 - Messala's Scheme (Sea Battle) Akihiko Mori 2:58
22 - Lost Memories (Lost Memory Maze) Akihiko Mori 4:10
23 - Escape! (Escape from Siliconian Empire Stage) Akihiko Mori 3:15
24 - Welcome, People of Blueland! Akihiko Mori 2:28
25 - Medusa Siliconian (Siliconian Empress Reveals Herself) Akihiko Mori 3:16
26 - Strike!! (Siliconian Empress Attacks / Josette's Ocarina Responds) Akihiko Mori 1:10
27 - Into the Blue Sky (Ending) (Outtake) Akihiko Mori 1:29
28 - Island of Vanished Greenery (Desolate Colro Island) Akihiko Mori 3:01
29 - An Entreaty to "J"... (Josette Makes Her Wish to "J") Akihiko Mori 2:21
30 - Meet Again (Part 1) Akihiko Mori 3:40
31 - Meet Again (Part 2) Akihiko Mori 0:29
32 - I Believe in Tomorrow... (Staff Roll) Akihiko Mori 4:29