Chiptune Archives - The Greatest Game Music

A Nightmare on Elm Street Soundtrack (NES)

A Nightmare on Elm Street (NES), David Wise, 1989

Before developer Rare became one of gaming’s powerhouses in the late 1990s and early 2000s, it toiled away for several years as one of the many companies churning out NES titles for various distributors. One of those distributors was LNJ – infamous for the usually low quality of the products that the company peddled. More than a few of their games were developed by Rare – almost all of them justifiably forgotten.

One of the stronger results of the collaboration between LNJ and Rare was A Nightmare on Elm Street – based of course on one of the most popular horror franchises of the 1980s. “Stronger” doesn’t mean that the game was an unqualified success – according to critics, it was merely better than most other LNJ titles and all in all made for a passable platformer. The game arguably would have been more distinctive had Rare stuck with the original concept where gamers controlled Freddie to hunt down teenagers. It’s not hard to see why this initial draft of the game was scrapped, particularly on a Nintendo console.

David Wise had delivered the music for each Rare NES (and Game Boy) title since joining the company in 1986. That Wise became a game composer was due to a chance encounter with Rare founders Tim and Chris Stamper in the Leicester music shop Wise worked in. After demonstrating a Yamaha CX5 sequencer (the company’s first music computer) with his own MIDI compositions, Wise was offered a job at Rare by the Stampers. While it would be the Battletoads franchise that brought Wise’s name to the attention of game music fans, the A Nightmare on Elm Street soundtrack firmly stands as Wise’s first great score.

Writing horror music on a console as technologically restricted as the NES poses a particular challenge. Often enough, NES soundtracks overcome their inherent limitations by focusing on memorable melodies or intricate, creative rhythms. As Wise put it himself in an interview: “In the early days of video game music, with the limited resources we had at our disposal, the melody was incredibly important.” However, much contemporary horror scoring achieves its effect through other means – unsettling textures and extended use of dissonances. These musical approaches don’t translate easily to the NES, at least not without grating quickly if put in the hands of a lesser composer.

Wise achieves a more than workable compromise on the A Nightmare on Elm Street soundtrack. His score is more melodic than many horror movie and game soundtracks, but equally creates a nearly constant feeling of dread (if never outright terror). Take “Town of Elm Street”, whose opening sounds almost adventurous. Its opening melody is maybe the most complex lead Wise has written for a chiptunes score, almost cascading and rushing forth in excitement, with an upbeat conclusion to each phrase. Expert harmonisation of the two pulse wave leads begins to introduce an otherworldly feel – and then the music suddenly falls into a black pit inhabited only by a mechnical pulse and eerie background drones that uncomfortably rise in pitch. It’s not a subtle change of mood, but it’s definitely effective, particularly as those encroaching drones never leave, even as the track returns to the relatively upbeat mood of its beginning.

Wise’s use of a nagging bass pulse to underscore evil returns on several other tracks – it’s hard not to suspect the influence of John Carpenter’s horror scores here. What works on the maestro’s soundtracks does the job on the A Nightmare on Elm Street soundtrack too though. Mechanical and relentless, that bass ostinato and the menace it underscores remain elusive, without a face or other means to identify it, hunting down its victims with single-minded intent.

Other tracks find different ways to imbue horror scoring tropes with melodic content. Initially, “Inside House 2” dabbles in well-executed stereotypes. High-pitched, discordant melodies and swelling drones alternate with a forward tumbling, almost panicked bass figure. But then Wise seamlessly leads into a wistful, downright beautiful melody that comes out of nowhere – far more moving than what one would expect from an NES horror game. “Inside House 3”’s melodies – despite their fragmented nature – are almost heroic in their fanfaric progressions. Victory seems plausible and the track’s second half brings that sentiment across even more clearly with insistent, catchy chord progressions that add some pop sensibilities to the score. Wise’s most interesting composition here is “Elm Street Cemetary”. The cue pits its motivating forward push against an indecipherable shower of dissonant notes on both pulse wave channels, while also sporting the soundtrack’s most intriguing, experimental melodies.

Considering Wise’s obvious talents, it’s not surprising that the A Nightmare on Elm Street soundtrack also shines when it goes for straight horror scoring. “Title Screen”’s slowly progressing bass pulse and drones right away set the required creepy mood, working in tandem with spine-tingling, almost shrill melodies. The skeletal, but highly effective instrumentation and shrapnels of melody recall Hirokazu Tanaka’s Metroid soundtrack, while the slow tempo creates a quietly suffocating atmosphere. “Junkyard” is more aggressively dissonant still. It returns that bass pulse in its most effectively unsettling iteration, underscoring creepily harmonised arpeggios that have a disconcerting stutter effect. As a game, A Nightmare on Elm Street might have exceeded expectations simply by not being really bad – but Wise’s ambitious and creative soundtrack goes above and beyond, creating an outstanding NES score where few would have expected one.

01 - Title Screen Wise, David 2:15
02 - Town of Elm Street Wise, David 2:45
03 - Inside House 1 Wise, David 1:50
04 - Inside House 2 Wise, David 2:33
05 - Inside House 3 Wise, David 2:40
06 - Junkyard Wise, David 2:53
07 - Elm Street Cemetary Wise, David 3:12

Battletoads in Battlemaniacs Soundtrack (Sega Master System)

Battletoads in Battlemaniacs Soundtrack (Sega Master System), Matt Furniss / David Wise, 1994

There aren’t a lot of Sega Master System ports of SNES games. There are even fewer ports where the Master System soundtrack improves on the SNES original. And if that score emerges from what was an unfinished release, we might be dealing with a minor miracle. Or maybe such a lucky outcome wasn’t entirely unpredictable. After all, it was Matt Furniss (working with Shaun Hollingworth under the Krisalis moniker) who ported the Battletoads in Battlemaniacs SNES score.

The Master System port of Battletoads in Battlemaniacs has a chequered history. The game – ported by Syrox Developments – was scheduled for a European release in 1994 through Virgin Interactive. The game had progressed far enough that at least two reviews of it were published in UK gaming magazines. However, Virgin Interactive cancelled the release for unknown reasons. At a later stage, the game saw the light of day in Master System-loving Brazil through Tec Toy. However, it’s not clear whether that release took place in 1994 or 1996.

What’s obvious is that what ended up on store shelves was an unfinished product. Filled with glitches, stage tunes playing in the wrong spots or not at all, and a generally underwhelming presentation, Battletoads in Battlemaniacs was hardly a sparkling addition to the Master System’s library of games. What’s intriguing to ponder is whether what was released in Brazil was the same build of the game that was scheduled for release in Europe. The published reviews – while less than enthusiastic – don’t indicate a broken game. That being said, the Mean Machines article does mention “poor sprite detection” and “overall sloppy programming”.

That same review takes a rather dim view of the Battletoads in Battlemaniacs soundtrack. The author claimed that it was a rip off of the Master System’s Lemmings port. That’s an odd claim to make, given that Matt Furnier rather obviously ported David Wise’s Battletoads in Battlemaniacs SNES score. That soundtrack is one of Wise’s lesser works. Its attempt to fuse orchestral and rock elements resulted in overly long and repetitive tracks that felt melodically uninspired and lacked momentum (and the buzzing guitar sound didn’t help matters).

Furniss’ take on Wise’s material is the sort of smart distillation and tweaking that makes a score written for a far superior sound chip work on a more limited platform. There was little hope to translate the guitar focus of the SNES score to the Master System, given its generally bright timbres and lack of duty cycles to manipulate instrumental colours. Furniss navigates around this issue by putting less emphasis on the melody instruments. Instead, he writes fantastically tight, rock-solid rhythms, rendered on must be some of the Master System’s best-sounding rock drum imitations – their sound all the more impressive considering the platform’s infamously bright, light timbres.

Beautifully spacious, yet authoritative and hard-hitting, it’s really the drums that are the star on the Battletoads in Battlemaniacs soundtrack. They drive each piece forward with relentless energy. What’s more, their lo-fi, near-industrial nature (compared to the SNES samples) gives them a grit and energy that was missing on the original score. At the same time, Furniss is aware that a great drum beat will only carry a piece for so long. What he ensures then is that none (well, almost none) of his tracks here outstay their welcome. As a result, his cues are more succinct than Wise’s compositions, staying closer to action game music conventions.

All this is not to say that the melodies Furniss either adapts or writes himself are lacking. Not surprising given his background in the European computer music scene, most melodies on the Battletoads in Battlemaniacs soundtrack come in the shape of cleverly layered arpeggios. Both on “Title” and “Ragnarok Canyon”, these bubbly arpeggios trade places regularly with bass melodies, helping the music’s variety and sense of forward direction. Ultimately though, while Furniss’ melodies get the job done, their purpose really is to support the rhythms and their never-ceasing propulsive drive.

“Snake Pit” is the culmination of this approach. Turning the SNES’ soft, percolating percussion into fierce ostinato, Furniss’ Battletoads in Battlemaniacs soundtrack uses its breathless pace and anthemic melodies to deliver the soundtrack’s most adrenaline-driven, rock-like track. A nice touch is Furniss’ pronounced use of vibrato on the sustained, decaying notes that close several of his melodies. It’s as close an approximation of guitar tones as one could hope for on the Master System.

The only track that is less than enticing is “Last Battle”. It stays too close to the original’s uninspired melodic material and call and response pattern. What’s worse, for some reason the percussion now feels strangely muted and is somewhat buried in the mix. That leaves about 10 minutes of material that still ranks as some of the Master System’s best action music. Now if only the game was actually complete and featured music for every single level…

01 - Title Matt Furniss / David Wise 2:28
02 - Ragnarok Canyon (Stage 1 & 8) Matt Furniss / David Wise 2:10
03 - Hollow Tree (Stage 2 & 10) Matt Furniss / David Wise 1:43
04 - Snake Pit (Stage 6) Matt Furniss / David Wise 1:32

Battletoads Soundtrack (NES)

Battletoads Soundtrack (NES), David Wise, 1991

The Battletoads soundtrack might be David Wise’s best and most creative NES score. That’s certainly no small feat – after all, Wise scored a whopping 46 NES games during his prolific career. Of course, a soundtrack release was all but impossible in 1991. It took until 2015 – when enterprising game music label iam8bit released a raft of Rare scores on vinyl – that the Battletoads soundtrack received its belated, but very much deserved album release.

Mind you, it wasn’t quite the deluxe product you would hope to see from a commemorative release like this. iam8bit’s album was missing the DMC samples Wise used, for example the drums on “Title Theme”. It does make you wonder what materials the album producers were working with. Thankfully, this can’t distract from the eccentric brilliance of Wise’s work. A comparison with the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles NES games and their music is not only apt, but also proves insightful. The Konami titles took the new jack swing genre popular around the late 1980s and early 1990s and harnessed its fusion of hip-hop, dance pop and R&B to generate the kind of hard-swinging urban cool that would fire up gamers. Battletoads, on the other hand, has something very different in mind.

Things start out fairly conventionally – if rockingly – with “Title Theme”. The theme in question is a three-note stomp from both square wave channels, answered by one of the NES’ better guitar imitations. Upbeat and with an earthy rock’n’roll groove, “Title Theme” feels like the perfect opener for an 8-bit beat’em up. These rock influences – previously heard in more purist fashion on Wise’s Snake Rattle ’n’ Roll – seep into other parts of the Battletoads soundtrack, but not as often as one would think. “Turbo Tunnel” is the game’s most action genre-typical composition, offering a chiptunes take on head-nodding mid-tempo rock. With its constant forward motion, steady yet varied drum work and motivating melodic phrases, this track feels – not unsurprisingly – like a racing game composition.

Later levels that also ask players to control some sort of vehicle reveal the Battletoads soundtrack’s true stylistic intentions. “Surf City / Terra Tubes” has no interest in straightforward underscoring of the level’s high speed action. With little melodic content to empower gamers, “Surf City / Terra Tubes” focuses much more on interlocking, surprisingly quiet rhythms whose twitchiness makes them enticingly slippery. The track’s initial melody line follows suit. It starts with a sustained decrescendoing note, as if fading out of view before it can actually get going.

“Volkmire’s Inferno” plays even less by the rules of 8-bit action game scoring. Staccato chords that would usually drive the piece refuse to play on the beat. The result is a breathless, jerky progression that hints at a melody, but never clearly spells it out. Wise teases listeners even more when the track’s B section suddenly delivers the soundtrack’s most uplifting, catchy melody. That is, if the major key tune didn’t feel so rushed, each note prematurely cut off by the next one. Underneath all this melodic playfulness, polymetric pulse wave and noise channel lines complicate the track’s layout further. If NES soundtracks ever managed to combine math rock and pop music, it’s on “Volkmire’s Inferno”.

On other tracks, Wise hews closer to action game-scoring conventions, but only to bend them to his idiosyncratic vision. The first stage theme, “Ragnarok Canyon”, is an almost entirely groove-based mood builder, with an air of cool swagger and superiority. At this stage, the mood is glum and enigmatic, but the player is still in control – even if the track keeps building towards a large reveal that never happens. “Wookie Hole” equally works primarily with layers of rhythms, more urgent and pushing this time. An explosion-like effect at 1:09 finally delivers some release, but the music quickly switches back into another convulsing episode.

And when the final level draws nearer and one would expect the music to ramp up, Wise does the opposite. “Intruder Excluder” perfectly highlights the Battletoads soundtrack’s minimalist, sometimes skeletal nature. Its constant rhythmic propulsion remains elusive rather than empowering, and at times feels willfully repetitive. What little melody there is appears in the form of snappy, effective short phrases. They refuse to deliver any melodic gratification, but instead simply push the music further on and on. Again, different to the TMNT Konami games, this isn’t a score that imbues players with confidence before the final showdown. “The Revolution”’s precariously rising arpeggios and anxious electronic pulses are merely the sound of a nervously clinched fist. Like the game itself, the Battletoads soundtrack lets players know that the odds are against them. Ultimately, the Battletoads soundtrack is an unexpected exercise in world building, creating an uncanny, hostile, but nevertheless intriguing environment.

Conversion notes

As it turned out, porting this somewhat unusual NES action score successfully to other platforms was a bit of a challenge. All ports present the same material as the NES soundtrack and adapt it for their respective platform.

The Game Boy port (confusingly titled “Battletoads in Ragnarok’s World”) sounds nearly identical to the NES soundtrack, but has some quirks. It adds a few stereo effects that don’t change the character of the music much. “Wookie Hole” plays faster than the original and feels more determined. Weirdest of all, this port botches the mischievous echo on the lead melody on “Arctic Caverns”, so that the tune is now out of sync with the rhythms.

The Game Gear conversion suffers from the system’s inherently limited, lighter timbres that struggle to bring across the soundtrack’s brooding yet agitated mood. Throughout its running time, the port lacks the atmospheric nuances that made the NES original tick. At least this version helps one appreciate Wise’s smart use of the NES’ duty cycles to evoke the soundtrack’s peculiar atmosphere.

The Amiga and identical Amiga CD32 port beef up the instrumentation, but that actually has a detrimental effect on the music, since the original made so much of its impact through its borderline skeletal sound that is now lost. Now the Battletoads soundtrack plays like a more traditional action score that is entertaining enough during its more energetic and melodic moments. However, the Amiga soundtracks lack the surprising changes of timbres that make the Sega Genesis conversion the best port.

01 - Title Theme - Opening David Wise 1:49
02 - Ragnarok's Canyon (Stage 1) David Wise 2:25
03 - Wookie Hole (Stage 2) David Wise 3:31
04 - Turbo Tunnel (Stage 3) David Wise 2:51
05 - Arctic Caverns (Stage 4) David Wise 1:51
06 - Surf City / Terra Tubes (Stages 5 & 9) David Wise 2:05
07 - Karnath's Lair (Stage 6) David Wise 2:17
08 - Volkmire's Inferno (Stage 7) David Wise 1:34
09 - Intruder Excluder (Stage 8) David Wise 1:30
10 - Rat Race (Stage 10) David Wise 1:39
11 - Clinger-Winger (Stage 11) David Wise 0:54
12 - The Revolution (Stage 12) David Wise 2:29

Dick Tracy Soundtrack (Game Boy)

Dick Tracy Soundtrack (Game Boy), George Sanger, 1991

The success of Tim Burton’s 1989 Batman kicked off the first wave of comic-book movies to hit cinemas. Warren Beatty’s Dick Tracy – released the following year – might have looked like it was riding on the caped crusader’s coattails, but in fact the project had been in development since the early 1980s. It turned out to be one of the decade’s more artistically and financially successful comic book movies, with its extravagant visual design drenched in primary colours still impressive decades later. Unfortunately, none of the film’s many video game adaptations – mostly for 8-bit platforms – could hope to match that kind of visual splendour.

Prolific developer Realtime Associates handled Dick Tracy’s NES and Game Boy versions – which meant gamers had another soundtrack from in-house composer George Sanger to look forward to. Interestingly enough, the NES and Game Boy ports turned out to be sufficiently different from one another to warrant one score for the NES game and another one for the Game Boy title. Of course, Sanger wrote both soundtracks, with the Game Boy one coming out on top. The NES version is jazzier, but in its adherence to that genre’s stereotypes, it’s also less interesting than the ambitious Game Boy equivalent. What also helps is that the compositions on the Game Boy score are significantly longer and more substantial than on the NES.

While the Dick Tracy soundtrack – once whittled down to its essentials – clocks in at less than 10 minutes, Sanger does his best to throw everything he’s got at these cues. “Track 01” proves right off the bat that this is not your average Game Boy platformer score – instead, the composition feels more like it was inspired by Sanger and David Govett’s “Fanfare” on Wing Commander. Like that classic earlier piece, “Track 01” cycles through a multitude of strong melodies and sections, although at a more restless pace.

It starts with a strident, yet swinging melody lead, driven by a restless, jazz-inspired bass line and smartly deployed snare drums that infuse the music with the right amount of action and tension. Other passages take this heroic mood further until we reach a bright staccato melody – before the music plunges into a grimly animated, nocturnal episode full of constantly moving, syncopated rhythms. It all leads into a fanfare finale that appropriately caps off all this cinematic drama.

The transitions between the different sections of “Track 01” aren’t necessarily very smooth – but Sanger wonderfully manages to sustain just enough coherence that these sudden shifts are breathlessly exciting rather than disjointed. “Track 02” equally benefits from Sanger’s talent to pull together disparate material into something quite thrilling. It’s an instantly striking cue, with its precariously rising, disorienting arpeggios and sharp melody fragments – always harmonised chromatically to keep the agitated music on edge. Its abrupt, at times seemingly aimless progression suggests barely suppressed frenzy, but that impression is brilliantly balanced by just enough direction and forward momentum in those stinging melody bits.

The most driven piece on the Dick Tracy soundtrack, “Track 02” never relaxes, turning into a showcase of how to pull off this kind of crisis cue on a chiptunes platform. Again driven by a jazzy bass, the piece seemingly relaxes during its slower B section. But while it’s the composition’s most melodic moment, Sanger combines the second pulse wave channel and the wave channel into dissonant background harmonies that thanks to Sanger’s unusual mix of channels creates an effectively harsh, destabilising timbre.

These two opening tracks might well constitute Sanger’s densest chiptunes work (outside of Tecmo NES Basketball’s menu theme – if only that score had more cues of such caliber). “Track 03” and “Track 04” are far shorter than their predecessors, but still deliver some noteworthy material and see Sanger further experimenting with the Game Boy’s sound channels. “Track 03” is the Dick Tracy soundtrack’s most obviously jazz-inspired cue, with some standard mid-tempo swing jazz rhythms. What makes the cue interesting is Sanger’s clever use of phasing between the two pulse wave channels to approximate the timbre of the lead saxophone, lending it an intriguingly glassy tone with some surprising glissandi effects. The cue’s only shortcoming is its brevity – it would have been fascinating to see Sanger further explore the unusual timbres he creates.

“Track 04” closes proceedings with a reprise of “Track 03”’s melody – before it suddenly morphs into a triumphant single pulse wave channel lead that proudly heralds victory. While the melody is memorable enough, the real interest lies in what Sanger does with the other three channels. He lets them all fire away as he tries to create as many notes and textural density as the hardware allows, to the point where it all becomes a hyperactive, impenetrable wall of sound – that still doesn’t overwhelm the melody lead. The Dick Tracy soundtrack might be over fairly soon after it started, but Sanger makes sure to compress as many ideas and tricks as he can into its brief run time.

01 - Track 01 Sanger, George 3:22
02 - Track 02 Sanger, George 3:14
03 - Track 03 Sanger, George 1:02
04 - Track 04 Sanger, George 1:05

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

Erik the Viking Soundtrack

Erik the Viking Soundtrack, Neil Baldwin, 1992

It’s a shame that Neil Baldwin wrote his two best NES soundtracks for games that in the end were shelved. At least game music fans discovered Hero Quest‘s excellent score once the game’s developer released the ROM online. On the other hand, Baldwin’s second cancelled project Erik the Viking was pretty much unknown. That is, until Baldwin posted the soundtrack on his website Duty Cycle Generator.

Action adventures like Erik the Viking require a fair amount of world building, and in this undertaking, the music has to pull its weight too. As such, the Erik the Viking soundtrack required Baldwin to create a more varied and larger score than what he had previously written on the NES. He rises to the challenge quite formidably, as Erik the Viking pushes Baldwin’s music into previously unexplored territory.

Right from the start, Baldwin proves he’s keen to expand his musical palette. Opening track “To the Death” is his first NES battle cue. Baldwin applies the same lush arpeggio sound he had presented on Hero Quest. But this time there’s a dissonant grittiness to Baldwin’s torrent of notes that imbues the music with the right amount of adrenaline and even panic. Metallic clanging and brief notes of static noise make the music even more intense. However, Baldwin also carries over from Hero Quest his ability to inject his arpeggio sequences with sufficiently melodic elements.

Fellow combat cue “Labyrinth Battle” is short, but still intrigues with its stuttering rhythm work. Rounding out the trio of enemy-related compositions is Erik the Viking‘s dungeon theme “Caves”. In lesser hands, the cue’s sparse sound and reliance on sound effects and musical fragments could have resulted in boredom. Receiving Baldwin’s virtuoso treatment, “Caves”’ instead feels like a wander through a dark underground tunnel, mysterious and alluring flashes of light and colour suddenly shooting out of the shadows and retreating seconds later.

Another significant change that the Erik the Viking soundtrack brings to Baldwin’s music is an unprecedented focus on melodies. Again, Hero Quest already introduced this tendency, but the music still married its melodies to Baldwin’s trademark dense textures. On Erik the Viking on the other hand, Baldwin is happy to reduce the complexity of his compositions. Be it “Village Life”, “Dragon Dance” or “Land of Sorrow”, they all put their pleasing, sometimes memorable melodies front and centre, and just let them do their job. At times it almost feels as if Baldwin stays out of the music’s way.

However, these compositions don’t receive any less attention and care from him than the rest of the score. Just check out the subtle, lovely tremolo effects at the end of each phrase in “Village Life”’s A section, or the booming drum sound on the folksy “Dragon Dance” that Baldwin borrows from Hero Quest‘s final cue. Sequenced together at the end of the album, these cues don’t match the brilliance of the Erik the Viking soundtrack’s best compositions and make for a slightly more low-key finale than expected. Still, they appropriately set the scene for closing track “Giant’s Harp (Peace Restored)”. Its happily drifting tune has the required sense of fulfilment and shows Baldwin at his closest to JRPG musical conventions.

All this already covers a larger emotional spectrum than any of Baldwin’s previous NES scores. The album’s crowning achievement though are a trio of early tracks on the Erik the Viking soundtrack. The most conventional cue of the bunch, “Spirit of Adventure” is as upbeat and enterprising as you would expect from a great over world theme, with some carefully added syncopations in the rhythm section for added intrigue. With its fluid development and expert use of counter melodies, “Spirit of Adventure” is Baldwin’s most melodically ambitious NES composition.

“Peace in the Harbour” perfectly puts its title into music. The composition’s calm walking bass line, convincingly simulated seagull cries and one of Baldwin’s wonderfully warm and emotional arpeggio lines all radiate contentment. Suitably laid back, “Peace in the Harbour”’s best idea is a pitch bend sound repeated over three octaves. It’s a striking innovation that somehow manages to sound both ethereal and just a bit quirky.

Lastly, “New Dawn (Erik the Viking Theme)” brings the soundtrack’s high adventure ambitions to a head in surprising fashion. Rather than writing a dashing main theme, Baldwin opts for a more esoteric approach. Dream-like melody fragments rise and fall over constant arpeggios swells – the shadows of grey ships about to emerge from the fog, before the hazy curtain swallows them again. The music slowly solidifies its melodic elements, before a steady drum beat sets in. Balancing the music’s drifting quality, the drums complete the track’s quietly monumental character. With its constant arpeggios, serene melody and persistent, ritualistic rhythms, “New Dawn (Erik the Viking Theme)” is one of those 8-bit compositions that transcends technical limitations and harnesses the specific character of its medium – an ancient myth evoked through nothing but four simple sound channels.

01 - To the Death Neil Baldwin 1:19
02 - Peace in the Harbour Neil Baldwin 3:14
03 - Spirit of Adventure Neil Baldwin 2:50
04 - New Dawn (Erik's Theme) Neil Baldwin 3:09
05 - Labyrinth Battle Neil Baldwin 0:41
06 - Village Life Neil Baldwin 2:05
07 - Caves Neil Baldwin 1:55
08 - Dragon Dance Neil Baldwin 1:31
09 - Consequences Neil Baldwin 1:31
10 - Land of Sorrow Neil Baldwin 0:51
11 - Giant's Harp (Peace Restored) Neil Baldwin 1:46

Fix & Foxi – Episode 1: Lupo Soundtrack

Fix & Foxi – Episode 1: Lupo Soundtrack, Manfred Linzner, 2000

One day, historians will determine how many hundreds of licensed platformers were released for the Game Boy and the Game Boy Colour. Then again, we might never know the exact number – the market share of both platforms was so large that even local releases promised commercial success. Case in point: Fix & Foxi – Episode 1: Lupo (and no, there was no second episode, so maybe things didn’t turn out as planned). The game was based on an animated TV series, which in turn was an adaptation of a weekly German comics magazine first published in 1953. The magazine ran for decades and boasted a circulation of several hundred thousand per week at the height of its success. Of course, abroad the two anthropomorphic foxes and their friend Lupo weren’t particularly well-known, so this Game Boy Colour title remained an obscure Germany-only game.

While very few will remember Fix & Foxi – Episode 1: Lupo, it deserves a place in the annals of game music for its outstanding soundtrack. It was one of the earliest commercial works by Manfred Linzner, who had graduated from the Amiga demo scene of the mid-1990s to scoring commercial products. After writing music for several Amiga games, Linzner began to focus on Game Boy Colour and later Game Boy Advance titles. His productivity in these early years of his career is astounding – for the years 2000-2002, Mobygames lists 36 music credits for Linzner! The highlight from this fertile period of his career is the Fix & Foxi – Episode 1: Lupo soundtrack.

The score marks Linzner as a master of chiptune music in the vein of several European composers of the late 1990s and early 2000s that pushed this format to its limits. With his background in the demo scene, Linzner was well-placed to exploit the Game Boy Colour’s sound capacities to the fullest. Take the use of the programmable wave channel on “Forest & Meadow”, where it plays three lines at the same time: a bass pulse of rapidly descending notes (Mega Man-style), a melodic ostinato and deeper bass notes. It’s an indication of how smartly Linzner uses the limited means at his disposal to create a lush, complex sound that can stand with the most luxuriously produced chiptune music of the era.

Thankfully, Linzner’s skills extend beyond creating an impressively detailed wall of sound. His melodic instincts are just as strong, evidenced right off the bat on “Title”. Backed by production techniques reminiscent of Alberto José González’s Game Boy scores, “Title” presents an 80s pop-inspired tune so catchy, proud and instantly hummable it brings to mind Chris Hülsbeck’s most outstanding achievements. Pacing itself through a breakdown into a more grandstanding B section while still overflowing with fun and euphoria, “Title” is pitch-perfect chiptune pop. A punchy, elastic bassline, coaxed out of one of the square wave channels, bolsters the cue’s wonderfully full-bodied production.

Other tracks on the Fix & Foxi – Episode 1: Lupo soundtrack deliver equally delightful melodies. First level track “Forest & Meadow” calms things down after “Title”’s rush of endorphins, with bouncier, heavier rhythms and melodies that are jolly rather than soaring – but still just as head-bopping. “Ship” is a bit simpler in its ingredients, with a melody that’s very much on the beat, something of a cross between a sea chantey and a children’s song. Here and on other tracks, Linzner uses a creative effect to give his tunes a richer sound. What might initially sound like one sustained note is actually a short note followed by a vibrato-like effect generated by playing notes just above or below the first note’s pitch.

Later compositions evince Linzner’s ability to also produce vividly atmospheric chiptune music without ever giving up his compositions’ lavishly arranged nature. Parts of “Temple” feel positively eerie, with a spooky lead over creepy chromatic progressions in the harmonising sound channels below. A stuttering bassline only adds to the cue’s feeling of disorientation, as does the fiercely growling bass drone that suddenly appears in the programmable wave channel. And yet, one of the square wave channels mixes in a melody that doesn’t lose its animated, bubbly feel, balancing the almost haunting sounds around it and tying “Temple” into the soundtrack’s busy, kid-friendly template.

The Fix & Foxi – Episode 1: Lupo soundtrack’s most elaborate cue is “Fortress”, suitably capping off the score. Persistent noise channel rhythms push arpeggios that grow denser and denser, propelled by a rolling, heavy bass line. Melodies organically emerge from the strikingly thick textures – doubling rhythmic movement rather than delivering tunes, keeping the juggernaut’s forward momentum going. “Fortress” is filled to the brim with textures and rhythms that are exceptionally diverse, yet Linzner harnesses them into a focused, dramatic whole. Listen to the first lead melody, crystalline and almost painfully high-pitched, cutting through the flurry of notes in spectacular fashion. There’s no doubt that a significant new talent had arrived on the game music scene with this soundtrack.

01 - Title Linzner, Manfred 1:41
02 - Forest & Meadow Linzner, Manfred 2:14
03 - Ship Linzner, Manfred 2:25
04 - Temple Linzner, Manfred 2:51
05 - Fortress Linzner, Manfred 2:02

Hero Quest Soundtrack (NES)

Hero Quest Soundtrack (NES), Neil Baldwin, 1991

Even at the height of the NES’ popularity, there were no official album releases of Western NES game music. That makes a website like Neil Baldwin‘s Duty Cycle Generator a very important contribution towards closing this gap. On his site, game music veteran Baldwin, whose career began on the C64, released all of his NES soundtracks. Baldwin pointed out that part of the reason his website exists was the praise one of his works had generated within online chiptunes communities. That score was Hero Quest, the video game version of the popular fantasy-themed board game. The score’s popularity was all the more surprising considering that the game was cancelled. However, its developer Chris Shrigley released it years later into the NES community, and its reputation built over time. Baldwin’s surprised discovery of the Hero Quest soundtrack’s popularity also kickstarted his involvement with the online game music community.

On Duty Cycle Generator, Baldwin shares his view that the Hero Quest soundtrack “is probably some of the best NES music” he did. It’s safe to say he’s correct in that assessment. Prior works by Baldwin (and his later Ferrari Grand Prix Challenge) can feel like exercises in arpeggio-based NES compositions. Those arpeggios were a relatively easy way to generate a lush sound with the NES’ limited hardware. There’s no doubt that Baldwin handled the arpeggio sounds driving his compositions with virtuoso technical skills matched by few other composers. Still, particularly a fantasy-themed work like Magician feels deficient in other regards, for example engaging melodies and moods.

The Hero Quest soundtrack is the first of Baldwin’s works where he finds a comfortable balance between technical complexity and a stronger emotional connection with the music, underpinned by appealing melodies. “Title Screen / Menu / Quest Story” opens with an appropriately medieval-sounding, stately melody over a slow arpeggio. It’s a scene setter that recalls the ‘once upon a time’-opening of many other NES RPGs. That includes Magician, but this time the melody is more involving. It leads up to an ear-catching ritardando, achieved manually by gradually increasing note lengths. A clever, rarely deployed method in game music, it gets listeners guessing what might come next…

And then more contemporary beats set in, waves of sweeping arpeggios back a heroic melody lead that oozes high adventure, and the music rides off to conquer the world. While more melody-focused than Baldwin’s other scores, a lot of “Title Screen / Menu / Quest Story”’s emotional pull still stems from his technical wizardry. The sounds emanating from all channels have a warmth and weight that are rare for an NES score. Additionally, Baldwin’s idea to have the arpeggios alternating octaves to create even denser textures gives the music precisely the orchestral feel he was after. While Barry Leitch‘s computer ports of Hero Quest evoke the game’s fantasy world by suggesting vast open spaces, Baldwin is busy filling these spaces with as much musical activity as he can muster.

On that note, “Dungeon Theme (Overworld)” feels like Baldwin’s definitive, most fleshed-out statement on arpeggio composition. It’s a relentless onslaught of cascading notes that has just the right amount of melodic backbone to pull listeners through what is one of the longer NES compositions (nearly 3 ½ minutes unlooped). An invigorating wall of sound, “Dungeon Theme (Overworld)” is one of those NES cues that challenges you to untangle the web of competing musical lines and figure out how on earth one could create such a track with the NES’ four sound channels.

“Dungeon Theme (Overworld)”’s sumptuousness makes it an ideal match for an RPG. The track’s aural richness gives it a grand scope that far exceeds the soundtrack’s short running time. The music’s breadth and energy, generated to no small measure by wonderful vibrato effects on the full-bodied arpeggios, sets the scene for a powerful finale as the music spirals higher and higher and ends with a literal bang. It doesn’t make for a great loop point, but musically it couldn’t be a more satisfying conclusion.

The same goes for the Hero Quest soundtrack’s closing composition, “Ending (Unused)”. The cue picks up the contemporary elements from previous tracks and translates them into a slow power ballad. The track is driven by a huge, anthemic drum sound that is one of Baldwin’s most impressive accomplishments here. Just like previous compositions had orchestral ambitions, “Ending” aims high. But it aims in a different direction and actually plays like the end credits song of a big Hollywood movie (in 8-bit, of course). The simple, but wistful melody lead is once more beautifully complemented by vibrant arpeggios. Their glow equally permeates the lead melody’s suspended, achingly swelling notes.

“Ending” concludes not necessarily the best of Baldwin’s NES soundtracks overall. That honour would have to go to the following year’s Erik the Viking. However, what “Ending” does is to complete a trio of Baldwin’s most outstanding, substantial NES compositions.

01 - Title Screen / Menu / Quest Story Baldwin, Neil 3:25
02 - Dungeon Theme (Overworld) Baldwin, Neil 3:19
03 - Ending (Unused) Baldwin, Neil 3:26

Hero Quest Soundtrack (ZX Spectrum)

Hero Quest Soundtrack (ZX Spectrum), Barry Leitch, 1991

Disclaimer: An earlier version of this review stated that the Atari ST port suffered from technical problems. This turned out to be an emulator issue and the ‘Conversion Notes’ section of the review has been updated accordingly.

Board games are arguably a lot easier to turn into video games than say movies. They already function as games, have a set of clearly defined rules and often enough feature just enough backstory to efficiently set up the game’s world. The sheer number of Dungeons & Dragons video games is testament to the close connection between both worlds. The success of the Dungeons & Dragons table top games of course inspired others to follow in their footsteps. In 1989, US board game manufacturer Milton Bradley tried their hand at a fantasy-themed title called Hero Quest. Despite its generic presentation, the game was fairly successful around the globe, with a number of expansions, new editions and even novels published.

The inevitable video game ports of Hero Quest arrived in 1991 on several home computer systems and the NES. Developers 221B Software Development looked after the computer ports, while Eurocom handled the NES game. Unfortunately, that title was ultimately cancelled and never officially released. As for the various computer ports, they were reasonably well received by video game journalists, although reviews ranged from very strong to merely middling. While some scribes welcomed the game’s accessibility, others bemoaned its low difficulty level and that Hero Quest stuck too close to its original board game mechanics.

As with many other titles published by Gremlin Graphics, game music veteran Barry Leitch wrote the Hero Quest soundtrack for the various computer platforms (Amiga, Amstrad CPC, Atari ST, Commodore 64, DOS and ZX Spectrum). The game turned out to be particularly challenging for Leitch, who was only given 30kb for the in-game music on the Amiga. As a result, he was forced to use the tiniest possible instrument samples – one waveform length and looped (similar to the approach David Wise would take on his Donkey Kong Country soundtracks). The effort was worth it though – in an interview, Leitch ranked his Hero Quest in-game music as one of his ten favourite tunes.

Out of the different versions of Leitch’s Hero Quest soundtrack, the ZX Spectrum port turns out best. Leitch has good reason to be fond of “In-Game 01” – the way it manages to organically ebb and flow (well, almost) over seven minutes, with its melody constantly reinventing itself, is impressive. A gently fluttering ostinato provides the track’s basis, evoking a dream-like mood that’s a perfect fit for the game’s adventures set in faraway lands. Leitch’s melodies are both subdued and majestic, straddling the divide between the expansiveness of classically-inspired prog-rock melody lines and the catchiness of great pop tunes. The track builds over more than three minutes until it settles into a steady march rhythm, making the most of the momentum built so far… only to be abruptly cut short, before the music returns to the opening’s pensive atmosphere, realised just as beautifully as before.

Throughout all of this, “In-Game 01” rarely sounds very adventurous. Instead, the Hero Quest soundtrack mixes the lushness of its fantasy-inspired sounds (helped by Leitch’s technical wizardry) with unexpectedly calm, even intimate strains. It’s a surprising emotional, sometimes longing composition that immensely benefits from Leitch’s patience as a carefully widens the scope of the piece. Witness how the soothing opening moves into a riding rhythm that increases anticipation before heavier percussion join at 2:35, accompanied by ominously rising and falling bass glissandi – and then the main march section finally sets in. There’s no doubt this is epic fantasy scoring, but it’s realised with quiet, intriguing means.

Leitch’s other two tracks on the Hero Quest soundtrack – “Title” and “In-Game 02” – aren’t as show-stopping, but still maintain the score’s high level of quality. “Title” feels like a denser, more energetic companion to “In-Game 01”. A plodding melody, presented over constant arpeggios and stately rhythms, turns prouder and more animated as the track progresses, while the music’s complexity increases until the cue rushes forth in excitement. Again, Leitch write a constantly evolving melody that remains memorable in all its shapes, sufficiently heavy to conjure the gravitas of a great fantasy adventure, but equally agile enough to not drag.

“In-Game 02” feels like the Hero Quest soundtrack’s most straightforward chiptunes composition, delivering a fitting, if somewhat low-key and reflective ending to the adventure with its anthemic melody lead and steady rhythms. The cue strikes just the right balance between heroic pride and somewhat wistfully looking back – a mix of emotions that Leitch articulates throughout the entire score, giving Hero Quest its own individual character amidst the masses of fantasy game scores.

Conversion Notes

Out of all the different versions of the Hero Quest soundtrack, the Amiga port sounds of course most realistic and lavish, with expert use of the stereo field to create a suitably grand sound. However, there are some niggling issues. The melody voice tends to sound piercing and off-key (particularly on “Title”). While the larger amount of instrumental colours is of course an advantage, it also leads to distractions like the out-of-place electric piano on “In-Game 01” and some at times overwhelming bass sounds. The Amiga version is also missing “In-Game 02”.

The Atari ST port sounds almost identical to the ZX Spectrum version – which ultimately is a disappointment, given the superior sound capacities of the Atari ST. This port has a slightly fuller – maybe occasionally overbearing – sound, although the difference is almost negligible (and since we’re talking emulators here, it might well not have been present on the original release).

The C64 version of Hero Quest only features the title track in a faithful rendition that’s pleasant in and of itself – it just can’t help feel murky and overly bassy compared to the ZX Spectrum score, which makes it harder to appreciate the intricacies of the different layers within the composition.

01 - Title Leitch, Barry 3:37
02 - In-Game 01 Leitch, Barry 6:59
03 - In-Game 02 Leitch, Barry 2:49

Kale in Dinoland Soundtrack

Kale in Dinoland Soundtrack, Luming Hao, 2012

How to stand out from the deluge of retro-inspired indie games that have flooded mobile devices and other platforms? Game developer The Rotting Cartridge went with an intriguing, if cheeky idea. Just pretend that your new game is a port of a forgotten Game Boy title released in 1992. Of course, Kale in Dinoland was no lost classic from the olden days of gaming. Instead, it was simply a new 2D platformer, clad in those monochrome graphics that millions of gamers will fondly remember.

Part of that nostalgia-inducing design was of course an appropriately vintage-sounding score, created by Luming Hao. A friend of the game’s developers, Hao wrote the score on popular tracker software LSDj. At the time of writing the Kale in Dinoland soundtrack, Hao studied Computer Science and Music Composition at Lehigh University. That combination of technical and artistic skills would seem to make him a great candidate to pen a chiptunes score.

And indeed, there are significant connections between Hao’s classical student compositions and the Kale in Dinoland soundtrack. Writing for the NES and Game Boy’s four channels has often been compared to writing for a string quartet. And so, it’s intriguing to see what a composer who has actually written a string quartet can accomplish with the Game Boy’s sound hardware. Maybe not surprisingly, the busyness of Hao’s String Quartet No. 1 links it to Kale in Dinoland’s intricate nature. Hao piles up layer upon layer of melodies and countermelodies, rhythms and counter rhythms in spectacular fashion, and manages to bring them all together in compositions that organically grow and develop.

A typical piece on Kale in Dinoland will start out with a single rhythmic figure and build from there. Chirpy melody lines and riffs will join, with often two melodies playing in counterpoint to each other. Hao’s classical education clearly manifests itself in the Kale in Dinoland soundtrack’s expert voice leading and unusual amount of polyphony. Meanwhile, a constantly evolving backdrop of polyrhythmic or syncopated beats backs Hao’s carefully paced exploration of the melodic material.

The way these tracks flow highlights how Kale in Dinoland differs from classic Game Boy soundtracks. Hao takes his time establishing his melodies before he then repeats, reworks and revisits them. The result are non-looping four-minute pieces with adventurous, almost cinematic intent. Interestingly enough, Hao manages to combine his classical education with pronounced pop instincts. His melodies are always catchy enough to energise and focus the sprawling, multi-layered compositions. As a result, Kale in Dinoland feels less like a tech demo than equally dazzling Game Boy scores like Ottifanten: Kommando Störtebeker.

Another piece of the puzzle is the engaging, varied album arc that Hao crafts. First, chiptunes symphonies “Test” and “Grasslands” establish the album’s high-flying ambitions. “Boss” adds some surprisingly harsh, buzzing drones that give the track an industrial touch. The cue’s two melodies agitatedly dance around each other, trying to escape the destructive pull of the fragmented rhythms. Another signpost of Hao’s classical background makes itself heard for the first time: a readiness to use dissonances at length (hardly uncommon in contemporary classical music, but more so in a non-horror game score). As a result, the Game Boy’s noise channel gets an extended work out this album. “Jungle” shows the Kale in Dinoland soundtrack at its most vivacious. Layered arpeggios turn the music into a swirling, joyous whirlwind.

After the album’s ebullient first half, the mood gets more serious, if no less entertaining. “Arctic” is remarkable for how emotionally powerful its sparse, near-ambient chiptunes musings turn out to be. Its melody is a wistful, lonely synth line on top of droning, sometimes abrasive chords. The cue’s development takes place in immensely satisfying, subtle fashion. The rigid background chords slowly evolve into an optimistic melody line and the music gradually shakes off its inertia, striding towards the game’s finale. “Volcano” and “Pterodactyl” bring back the conflict and claustrophobia of “Boss”. The industrial percussion strikes on “Volcano” sound like explosions on a mining site, both accompanying and trying to bury the melody lines.

All this intensity leads into “Mansion”, and this is where the Kale in Dinoland soundtrack will divide listeners. Adding live instruments, “Mansion” feels more like Cinemascope Post-Rock rather than Game Boy music – this is what Mogwai might produce if they discovered chiptunes (with some avant-garde classical music added). Initially, it’s a frenzy of clashing and beeping sounds that often emulate grating guitar feedback. But it’s no headless sound and fury. Shining, hopeful chiptunes chords emerge and begin to take over the music, leading the album towards its crescendoing, towering conclusion, hand in hand with uplifting piano and glockenspiel notes, while they weather an assault of crashing guitar noise.

“The Mansion” might feel jarring, but ultimately, it fulfills the soundtrack’s ambition to not just pay homage to vintage Game Boy scores, but to also expand – and even break – their format (in more violent fashion than say Tower of Heaven). Through the way it merges classical music’s density of melodies and textures with chiptunes music, it’s arguably more ambitious than the game it accompanies – and one of the most remarkable, self-consciously retro chiptunes scores produced.

01 - Test Hao, Luming 4:28
02 - Grasslands Hao, Luming 2:55
03 - Boss Hao, Luming 2:14
04 - Jungle Hao, Luming 3:59
05 - Resort Hao, Luming 3:41
06 - Arctic Hao, Luming 3:28
07 - Volcano Hao, Luming 3:29
08 - Pterodactyl Hao, Luming 3:09
09 - Mansion Hao, Luming 5:20