First-Person Shooter Archives - The Greatest Game Music

Battlefield: Bad Company 2 Soundtrack

Battlefield: Bad Company 2 Soundtrack, Mikael Karlsson, 2010

Battlefield: Bad Company’s soundtrack had turned heads through the involvement of classical composer Mikael Karlsson. As a successful writer of modern (sometimes avant-garde) classical music and with an impressive body of well-received orchestral works, ballets and operas under his belt, Karlsson seemed like an unusual choice to score a first-person shooter. The link between Karlsson and the Battlefield franchise was Stefan Strandberg, sound director at game developer DICE. Friends during their study years in Stockholm, they reconnected when Karlsson moved to New York and a demo tape of his made it into the hands of Strandberg.

Ultimately though, the Battlefield: Bad Company score album felt underwhelming. Its compositions were usually too short to develop meaningfully. Additionally, the music wasn’t as adventurous and refreshing as the references that Karlsson and Strandberg quoted in interviews (Rachmaninoff, Schnittke, Bartok) would suggest.

The Battlefield: Bad Company 2 soundtrack – while stylistically more conventional than its predecessor – is a considerable improvement. Ignoring some shorter tracks that feel like filler, the score album’s meat are four substantial orchestral cues. While they run for just over 15 minutes altogether, they are among Western game music’s best developed orchestral compositions. In fact, particularly “The Secret Revealed” and “The Ancient Weapon” feel more like small concert works than soundtrack compositions. Karlsson’s background in classical music is consistently manifest in his intelligent handling of orchestral forces and dynamics. It helps that according to Karlsson, “BC2 has a much more developed, cinematic story line than BC1”.

The fun kicks off with the robust “The Storm (Main Theme)”. Its opening gestures – a resilient, solemn trumpet solo over somewhat anonymously driving string ostinati and percussion – have become musical clichés of the FPS genre. But Karlsson establishes his credentials early on. His trumpet lead melody is more long-spun and less predictable than the vast majority of competitors in this field. Countless game (and movie) soundtracks have tried to mix traditional orchestral sweep with rhythm-focused modern action score writing – far too often to underwhelming results. “The Storm (Main Theme)” is one of the few game music compositions that gets the balance right. The piece never sacrifices carefully crafted dynamics and orchestrations for the constant forward surge that this type of composition requires. The track’s requisite sense of heroism never feels cheap and doesn’t have to rely on the tired, simplistic major chord progressions of other action games.

One of the surprising things about the Battlefield: Bad Company 2 soundtrack is that “The Storm (Main Theme)” is the only composition with the expected militaristic bravado. The other three substantial cues take more subtle approaches.

“Snowy Mountains” positions itself on the opposite end of the emotional spectrum to “The Storm (Main Theme)”. It’s a far more abstract, but still accessible composition, due to its immediately striking atmosphere. As the base for “Snowy Mountains”, Karlsson uses ear-catching layers of plodding, resonant string ostinati. The music’s motoric progression remains steady to suggest constant pressing forward to fulfill a mission in white, barren lands. At the same time, rhythmic subtleties and additions like busy string pizzicati keep the mood sufficiently unpredictable and tense. Massive French horn blasts underline “Snowy Mountains”’ stark atmosphere, which is alleviated through measured woodwind melodies.

If “The Storm (Main Theme)” is the barnstorming opening track and “Snowy Mountains” evokes a particular locale, the remaining two tracks deliver the bulk of the Battlefield: Bad Company 2 soundtrack’s cinematic drama – in remarkably mature and subdued fashion. Both “The Secret Revealed” and “The Ancient Weapon” surprise with their hushed, nocturnal atmosphere.

“The Secret Revealed” shifts gears after “The Storm (Main Theme)”’s swagger, opening with a rolling four-note piano motif on flute. The motif’s refusal to harmonically resolve sets the composition’s mysterious, agitated mood. A sense of foreboding flows from a high-pitched violin drone and ruminative deep string utterings. The melodic material is purposefully fragmented, but still developed smartly enough to tie the piece together. Composed with classical sensibilities and making judicious use of chamber music-sized orchestrations, all the tension that “The Secret Revealed” has carefully built up explodes in a towering brass variation of the four-note motif – suitably awe-inspiring to justify the track’s title.

“The Ancient Weapon” visits similar emotional territory, but with a more melodramatic flair. Karlsson writes a solo violin part that ranks among Western game music’s most fully-developed instrumental soli. By turns delicate, passionate, trembling, intimate, and always impeccably performed, the mesmerising solo violin is pitted against thumping percussion and hammering piano chords. Compositional subtlety once more leads to emotional ambivalence and intrigue. “The Ancient Weapon”’s solo violin part lacks any continuously flowing, comforting melody line. It refuses to deliver any definitive emotional payoffs, but offers constant allure and fascination. Karlsson’s background in modern classical music shines through once more, allowed to produce far more multi-faceted statements of intent than on Battlefield: Bad Company. Ultimately, “The Ancient Weapon” ends on the album’s most ambiguous, cliffhanging note, receding back into the darkness. It’s a welcome invitation to replay this anything but ordinary first-person shooter score.

01 - The Storm (Main Theme) Mikael Karlsson 4:30
02 - The Secret Revealed Mikael Karlsson 4:01
03 - Snowy Mountains Mikael Karlsson 3:03
04 - The Ancient Weapon Mikael Karlsson 3:50

Dead Space 2 Soundtrack

Dead Space 2 Soundtrack, Jason Graves, 2011

“The Same. But Different. Yet Better.” According to Jason Graves, those were the words that he stuck above his monitor when composing Dead Space 2. Considering the success of Dead Space’s aural aspects – two BAFTAs and a degree of media attention few game scores ever achieve – Grave’s goal was no doubt an ambitious one. Then again, no matter how ferocious Dead Space’s soundtrack was, there was room for improvement. Graves’ breakthrough work was the equivalent of a horror movie that tries to scare its audience with jump scare after jump scare. And at some stage, watching monsters leap at the protagonist for yet another “boo!” effect gets old.

Fortunately, Graves fixes this and other issues on the Dead Space 2 soundtrack. It is still unmistakably the soundtrack for a very scary game. But at the same time, through a more varied approach to creating unease and immersion, Dead Space 2 clearly surpasses its predecessor. It delivers a surprisingly multi-faceted exploration of the dark corridors of both a haunted space station and of its protagonist Isaac Clarke’s disintegrating mind.

Grave’s creativity and his improved judgment on how to let his music achieve maximum emotional effect are demonstrated right from the start on “Isaac, Are You There?”. Graves implements one key ingredient that allows his music to register with much greater impact than before – contrast. To put it in his words: “It’s the tonal versus the non-tonal, the calm versus the chaos.” And so, “Isaac, Are You There?” opens with the mournful sounds of a string quartet whose grip on tonality soon crumbles, giving way to tortured dissonances.

Arguably, the string quartet doesn’t appear as often on the Dead Space 2 soundtrack as the score’s more traditional components. However, these introspective interludes are of utmost importance to pace the album and they never fail to impress. They’re emotionally powerful, creepy and touchingly communicate Isaac’s loneliness. The first Dead Space didn’t have much more than the threat of someone being swallowed by the terrifying unknown. Now, Dead Space 2 makes us care about that someone.

This sort of emotional involvement is also anchored in the improved pacing of the album’s acidic action pieces. Sample a track like “Titan Station Elementary”, found on the soundtrack’s Collector’s Edition release. Its strategy to open with something decidedly non-horror related – a children’s song – and slowly move from innocence to terror all the more effectively is hardly new. But this measured approach is where Dead Space 2 triumphs over Dead Space and its nearly constant hyperactivity.

It helps these dynamic contrasts immeasurably that Graves’ writing for piano passages has much improved since Dead Space. Now these quieter sections are mesmerising and retain a sense of eeriness so that listeners’ attention never flags. “The Cassini Towers” only requires echoing bell strikes to shape an unfathomable space, before vocals intensify the music’s unsettling mood. Disembodied voices and whispered, indistinguishable words uttered from a close distance evoke tangible, yet uncontrollable dread that erupts into a violent orchestral outburst.

These engrossing stretches of relative calm form a foil against which the frenzy of Dead Space 2‘s action pieces can unfold even better. While fragile, this time Isaac is more in control than in the first game. Consequently, the action tracks on the Dead Space 2 soundtrack are less chaotic and more rhythmically focused than before. On Dead Space, the music often created a head-spinning effect by going in several different directions at once. This time, the pieces’ rhythmic foundation is steadier and more dominant to give the music a recognisable forward drive. Dead Space 2’s action tracks feel like hammers wrapped in barbwire, barbaric unisono rhythms mercilessly striking again and again.

Such rhythmic focus is the hallmark of much anemic contemporary soundtrack writing. Graves’ immense achievement here is to make this sort of thumping action music exciting. Often enough, his combat pieces have the confidence to simply rely on the sheer brutal force of their rhythms. Key to these compositions’ success is the fact that the chords which the orchestra hammers out with manic focus are fiercely dissonant and visceral. Even if this is music that doesn’t dazzle like its predecessor, its uncompromising focus is even more exciting. Rather than constantly trying to stun listeners with disorienting orchestral mayhem, Graves is happy to achieve more with less. And he does so in brutally effective fashion.

And when a funereal rendition of Isaac’s theme concludes the Collector’s Edition’s version of closing track “Lacrimosa” – one of Western game music’s most emotionally and harmonically complex pieces – Graves reveals that he has managed to move all the pieces of the puzzle into the right position to make the Dead Space 2 soundtrack both terrifying and emotionally devastating. It’s an achievement of rare maturity and easily Graves’ career highlight.

01 - Isaac, Are You There? Jason Graves 5:16
02 - Padded Room with a View Jason Graves 3:11
03 - Hospital Escape Jason Graves 2:21
04 - Much Ado About Necromorphs Jason Graves 4:36
05 - Canonical Aside Jason Graves 1:56
06 - Administering Control Jason Graves 2:46
07 - The Cassini Towers Jason Graves 3:59
08 - Fear of Flying Jason Graves 4:03
09 - It Had to be Unitology Jason Graves 5:16
10 - Isaac Get Your Gun Jason Graves 1:49
11 - Titan Station Elementary Jason Graves 3:45
12 - East of the Sun and West of the Solar Array Jason Graves 2:09
13 - Awesome Hulk Jason Graves 4:14
14 - Start Spreading the Limbs Jason Graves 2:31
15 - You Got Nill Jason Graves 4:13
16 - The Government Sector Jason Graves 2:41
17 - I Only Have Eyes For You Jason Graves 5:01
18 - You Got to My Head Jason Graves 4:14
19 - Convergence Delayed Jason Graves 3:46
20 - Lacrimosa Jason Graves 8:11

Descent Soundtrack (Mac)

Descent Soundtrack (Mac), Johann Langlie / Brian Luzietti / Larry Peacock / Jim Torres / Tim Wiles, 1995

Among the titles that ushered in the new era of 3D gaming during the mid-1990s, Descent sometimes gets a bit overlooked. Two years after Doom, Descent took the visualisation of three-dimensional spaces in video games to the next level. Through the framework of a space flight simulator, Parallax Software gave players six degrees of freedom to shoot their way through a series of off-world mines. Another first was the use of (almost) exclusively 3D graphics – instead of bitmaps – to depict the game’s world. It was no wonder that Descent could pull off such technical feats – its co-creators Mike Kulas and Matt Toschlog had previously worked on another revolutionary 3D title: Ultima Underworld. Critical acclaim and strong sales figures rewarded Parallax Software’s daring, leading to several ports and sequels – and enough fan devotion to crowdfund a prequel decades later!

Tracing the Descent soundtrack’s creation is a mildly confusing affair, thanks to the game’s various ports. The original PC release came with a MIDI soundtrack composed by Ken Allen, Brian Luzietti, Larry Peacock, Leslie Spitzer, Jim Torres and Tim Wiles. Some of these artists had previously worked on other titles by publisher Interplay. Others don’t seem to have had much of a career in games outside of the Descent franchise. The score was heavily influenced by industrial music bands like Nine Inch Nails, Skinny Puppy and Front Line Assembly – no surprise, given this particular genre reached its peak of popularity in the mid-1990s. The Mac and PlayStation ports released later on used CD audio, including arranged versions of some of the PC MIDI compositions and licensed tracks by Nivek Ogre and Type-O Negative.

Needless to say, the MIDI tracks pale in comparison to the far more powerful, fully-fledged CD audio cues. Interestingly, the Mac and PlayStation soundtracks aren’t identical. The preference for the Mac score comes courtesy of a curated soundtrack release via GOG. In contrast, the PlayStation soundtrack is a confusing combination of licensed material, reprises of the Mac cues and new compositions. What’s also intriguing is that the credits for the Mac port list Johann Langlie and Larry Peacock as responsible for “CD Music”, “partially based on music by Brian Luzietti, Larry Peacock, Tim Wiles (Q), Jim Torres”. In other words, does this list imply that Ken Allen and Leslie Spitzer’s contributions to the PC score didn’t receive any CD audio treatment?

Be that as it may, there’s no need to ponder these questions for too long. After all, what counts is that the Descent soundtrack is a masterful exercise in maximalist genre-bending, a monumental beast of a game score written during a time when composers discovered the joys of working with live instruments – throwing caution and restraint to the wind in the process. Yes, this is clearly music inspired by contemporary industrial metal and electronic influences (similar to Burke Trieschmann’s best scores). However, Langlie and Peacock’s pieces mash such a staggering amount of ideas and styles together that their score emerges as something entirely original. It’s a constantly intense and innovative work, but equally blessed with such assured pacing that the music’s relentless attitude never becomes overbearing.

“Title” stakes the composers’ claim to fame firstly with a runtime of no less than six minutes – setting a template for the rest of Descent soundtrack, where most tracks enthusiastically cram in so much that they can’t help but break through the five-minute mark. “Title” alone circles through more styles than other game soundtracks in their entirety. There’s trippy 90s electronica, squealing free jazz saxophone leads, hauntingly atmospheric synth leads, noisy guitar episodes driven by textural exploration rather than melodic gratification. It’s all anchored by hand percussion rhythms that imbue the music with a surprisingly organic groove, elegantly countering the cue’s densely arranged electronic elements.

The constant onslaught of complex rhythm layers on “Title” and throughout the entire Descent soundtrack is not just a sign of the composers’ ambitions, but the resulting wall of sound also suitably underscores the game’s futuristic, claustrophobic locations. Thanks to its seamless construction, “Title” is not just gritty and adrenaline-pumping, but also convincingly expansive and spacious in its world-building – if one had to find an industrial game score that genuinely deserves the designation ‘epic’, it’s this one.

And it only gets better from here – Langlie and Peacock keep realigning the musical colours on the Descent soundtrack’s massive palette for each track. “Lunar Outpost” introduces hip-hop beats and a fantastic, almost funky bass line that keeps the centrifugal musical forces from spinning out of control. It’s one of the many occasions on which Langlie and Peacock innovate, eschewing industrial music’s trademark pumping, clanging rhythms for something warmer and more groove-based. That doesn’t stop “Lunar Scilab” from starting with what sounds like pistons mercilessly firing away, before the composers introduce one of the soundtrack’s trademarks. We are talking about almost experimental guitar work that tweaks the instrument’s riffs into their most aggressive, torn shape possible, distorted almost beyond recognition. Such noise metal inclinations will come to dominate the soundtrack more and more, but first, “Lunar Military Base” surprises with a brief, welcome excursion into melodic 1970s hard rock.

For any soundtrack that already starts at 100%, it’s hard to find places to go as the big showdown approaches, but the Descent soundtrack pulls off this rare feat. “Venus Atmospheric Lab” feels like a tidal wave that’s about the crush listeners as it cranks up every single one of its components to 11 – be that the album’s heaviest, most singled-minded beat, an apocalyptic staccato synth figure or blindingly dissonant guitar riffs. That the whole thing comes together organically without collapsing under its own weight is further testament to the composers’ skills. “Venus Nickel-Iron Mine” ’s progressive techno gives way to the almost hypnotic nightmare that is “Mercury Core” ’s combination of downright catchy rhythms assaulted by some of game music’s most abrasive guitar lines.

And thankfully, “Titan Mine” is precisely the kind of jaw-dropping freight train of a closing track that this kind of album demands. The cue moves smoothly from eerie sound collage to a groove-oriented hard rock sound that is soon undermined by a stumbling, disorienting synth line – only to explode in a savagely pounding industrial metal outburst. Such frightening whiplash isn’t all that “Titan Mine” has to offer. Listen to how the composers layer their competing musical ideas as the piece keeps building into the sort of majestic, magnificently controlled chaos only very, very few scores ever achieve. Matching Descent’s elevated standing in game history, its soundtrack is a momentous achievement – industrial music at its most excessive and yet tightly controlled.

01 - Title Langlie / Luzietti / Peacock / Torres / Wiles 6:07
02 - Lunar Outpost Langlie / Luzietti / Peacock / Torres / Wiles 6:37
03 - Lunar Scilab Langlie / Luzietti / Peacock / Torres / Wiles 4:32
04 - Lunar Military Base Langlie / Luzietti / Peacock / Torres / Wiles 2:52
05 - Venus Atmospheric Lab Langlie / Luzietti / Peacock / Torres / Wiles 6:59
06 - Venus Nickel-Iron Mine Langlie / Luzietti / Peacock / Torres / Wiles 7:32
07 - Mercury Solar Lab Langlie / Luzietti / Peacock / Torres / Wiles 6:04
08 - Mercury Core Langlie / Luzietti / Peacock / Torres / Wiles 4:28
09 - Titan Mine Langlie / Luzietti / Peacock / Torres / Wiles 7:02

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

GoldenEye 007 Soundtrack (Nintendo 64)

GoldenEye 007 Soundtrack (Nintendo 64), Grant Kirkhope / Graeme Norgate, 1997

It’s no exaggeration to say that GoldenEye 007 was a game changer. By the mid-1990s, games based on movies had (justly) developed a disastrous reputation, and the fact that GoldenEye 007 was released a full 18 months after the movie didn’t help matters. And of course, this was a first-person shooter designed for a console, rather than for a PC – back then the natural home for FPS titles. But in the end, none of this mattered. GoldenEye 007 went on to sell more than eight million copies, becoming one of the most successful games of its console generation. Its reception among reviewers was just as enthusiastic and there’s no doubt GoldenEye 007 has left a lasting legacy – who could forget its legendary multiplayer mode? Not bad for a title developed by an inexperienced team that spent a full three years completing the game.

Like the game as a whole, creating the GoldenEye 007 soundtrack was no easy feat – after all, this was one of Rare’s first Nintendo 64 titles. Initially, Graeme Norgate was tasked with writing the score, having previously worked on Rare’s Killer Instinct and Donkey Kong Land. However, Norgate was also working on Blast Corps at the same time and it became obvious that additional resources were needed. Thus Grant Kirkhope – while still working on Donkey Kong Land 2 – was drafted to join Norgate on GoldenEye 007 (he left before completion of that project to work on Dream). The challenge for both composers was to write music for a console that for the first one and a half years of the game’s development didn’t exist yet.

What’s more, information on the new console’s sound capabilities were conflicting. Silicon Graphics promised up to 100 channels of sound, but ultimately, 12-16 channels (and a mere 700k for music data and instrument samples) turned out to be more realistic. But these challenges were arguably offset by the fact that Norgate and Kirkhope had the license to use one of movie history’s most famous tunes – the immortal Bond theme.

And of course, both young composers made the most of the opportunity to play with the legendary theme. Crucially, the GoldenEye 007 soundtrack avoids a mistake other Bond games make – overusing the theme and stating it in full over and over again, until the melody becomes merely obnoxious. Norgate and Kirkhope, on the other hand, do an outstanding job at reprising the theme in a myriad of different disguises, constantly changing the structure, tempo and orchestration of the melody (partially inspired by Eric Serra’s idiosyncratic GoldenEye 007 movie score). Some of their standout takes on the theme include a guitar-driven hard rock version on “James Bond Theme”; subtly referenced as brass counterpoint on “Dam”; a more classical, full-bodied rendition on solo brass on “Runway”; two versions of the theme played in counterpoint in time for the game’s finale on “Cradle” – one couldn’t hope for more creativity and thematic cohesion.

While its reliance on the Bond theme clearly marks the GoldenEye 007 soundtrack as part of the Bond canon, it is anything but a classic Bond score – at least when comparing it to pre-1995 Bond movie soundtracks. Like Eric Serra’s movie score, Norgate and Kirkhope’s work breaks with tradition, but arguably more successfully so. On GoldenEye 007, there’s little of the elegant, sometimes jazzy allure that traditional Bond scores have brought to the character. Instead, much of this soundtrack plays like a modern update of the Bond sound within the parameters of a stealth shooter. That’s not necessarily surprising, considering how much GoldenEye 007’s gameplay favours the careful elimination of enemies over all-out shooting sprees. On much of GoldenEye 007, being a secret agent is a less than showy job, undertaken in the shadows, constantly on edge and filled with a quiet, unrelenting intensity.

This translates to a string of surprisingly quiet compositions – at least in the first half of the score – that one might not typically expect to hear on a first-person shooter album. Rhythms are usually persistent and driving but given to softer instruments like xylophone and light electronics. On top of this foundation, Norgate and Kirkhope skillfully mix orchestral, rock and electronic elements (of a strong mid-90s vintage), creating spellbinding, subtly emotional music. Melodies are used sparingly, but with masterful judgement as to where they make the biggest impact. While the music might sometimes feel like it’s drawing characters and locations in subdued shades of grey, the score’s carefully sculpted, brooding atmospherics, flawless pacing and memorable melodies develop an almost hypnotic pull.

Take “Surface”, one of the soundtrack’s longest and sparsest compositions. Its enticingly cinematic opening – deep male choir vocals over circular drum patterns – expertly builds tension, before pounding timpani drive forward a lonely, heavy-hearted melody that’s perfect for the level’s barren surroundings. Norgate and Kirkhope are clearly patient enough to let each musical building block make its full impact before they add more – but equally, their music doesn’t turn monotonous either. And within its potentially limiting, hushed template of simple melodies, synth drones and constant tension, Norgate and Kirkhope achieve an impressive amount of tonal variety. Their palette ranges from the quiet menace of “Facility” and the raised stakes of the string-heavy “Bunker 2” to a reminder of Bond’s suave character on “Runway”, via more expansive string and brass overlays that bring a quantum of elegance to the soundtrack’s grittiness.

As the GoldenEye 007 soundtrack moves into its second half, it doesn’t drop its deliberate pacing and mix of traditional and modern musical elements, but still becomes more outwardly dramatic. And once more, the composers prove themselves more than capable of coming up with fresh ideas and approaches for each level. “Silo”’s harder-hitting rock rhythms carry a stuttering, nervous synth pulse which is repeated almost obsessively and successfully plays with the unnerving effects of its repetition. “Statue” and “Depot” are the soundtrack’s most traditionally orchestral efforts, displaying the composers’ abilities in this register with their classically-minded bombast and full-bodied brass declarations. “Train” is the soundtrack’s definitive statement of its hard rock tendencies, which Norgate and Kirkhope mix with a breathless percussion jam organised in complex stereo layers, mimicking the moving train in creative ways.

During its extended running time, the soundtrack gets ever more eclectic while still maintaining its focus on bringing the Bond franchise into the modern age (well, into the 1990s). Its most original concoction is “Control”, which uses suitably understated trip hop rhythms to support the album’s most unexpected, twisted renditions of the Bond theme. The best score ever to grace a Bond video game, GoldenEye 007 manages something near miraculous – it successfully reimagines an iconic franchise’s music decades into its existence.

01 - James Bond Theme Grant Kirkhope / Graeme Norgate 2:56
02 - Dam Grant Kirkhope / Graeme Norgate 4:39
03 - Facility Grant Kirkhope / Graeme Norgate 4:11
04 - Runway Grant Kirkhope / Graeme Norgate 4:16
05 - Surface 1 Grant Kirkhope / Graeme Norgate 7:02
06 - Bunker 1 Grant Kirkhope / Graeme Norgate 5:15
07 - Silo Grant Kirkhope / Graeme Norgate 4:26
08 - Surface 2 Grant Kirkhope / Graeme Norgate 5:18
09 - Bunker 2 Grant Kirkhope / Graeme Norgate 4:27
10 - Statue Grant Kirkhope / Graeme Norgate 3:31
11 - Statue X Grant Kirkhope / Graeme Norgate 1:55
12 - Depot Grant Kirkhope / Graeme Norgate 4:33
13 - Depot X Grant Kirkhope / Graeme Norgate 1:52
14 - Train Grant Kirkhope / Graeme Norgate 5:09
15 - Control Grant Kirkhope / Graeme Norgate 4:35
16 - Caverns Grant Kirkhope / Graeme Norgate 8:31
17 - Cradle Grant Kirkhope / Graeme Norgate 4:13
18 - The Basement Grant Kirkhope / Graeme Norgate 5:06
19 - Ending Theme Grant Kirkhope / Graeme Norgate 2:10

Medal of Honor Soundtrack

Medal of Honor Soundtrack, Michael Giacchino, 1999

It’s hard to find a historically more significant, more influential Western game score than Michael Giacchino‘s Medal of Honor. Sure, the Medal of Honor soundtrack wasn’t the first orchestral game score to convincingly emulate movie scoring conventions. But there were a number of powerful factors that turned Medal of Honor into a force that changed the course of game music history – and it wasn’t just the fact that Giacchino’s work was married to an immensely successful game.

First and foremost, there is the soundtrack’s sheer artistic quality. Its strongest predecessors in the genre of Western live orchestral game music – Heart of Darkness, Total Annihilation, Star Trek: Starfleet Academy – had already delivered some outstanding music. However, the Medal of Honor soundtrack surpasses them all in terms of both breadth and consistent quality (early Japanese orchestral game scores by the likes of Yoko Kanno, Jun Nagao and Takayuki Hattori are a different story). What’s more, the score’s thematic sophistication set a new benchmark for live orchestral game music. Giacchino writes no less than three main themes that run through the entire score. He always uses these melodies judiciously and to further the music’s storytelling capabilities. On top of this, Giacchino introduces a new secondary motif on almost every track, builds the respective composition around this motif, and then masterfully weaves in the three major themes.

Of course, it’s hard to ignore just how much the Medal of Honor soundtrack sounds like John Williams’ action scoring from the late 1980s and early 1990s. But in this case, that comparison is actually an enormous compliment. Giacchino manages to write orchestral action music of the same quality as the maestro himself. That applies both to the music’s intelligent thematic constructs and sheer aural pleasure derived from it.

What’s so pivotal to the success of Medal of Honor is how successfully it realises its storytelling ambitions. The score creates gripping narrative arcs both within each composition and throughout the album as a whole. The smart use of various themes is obviously key to this achievement. However, there are two more factors that help Medal of Honor to play just like a first-rate film score.

Firstly, there’s Giacchino’s clever use of dynamics. True, Medal of Honor derives a lot of its reputation as an orchestral powerhouse from adrenaline-charged pieces like “The Radar Train” and “Rjuken Sabotage”. These are irresistibly propulsive creations that still stand as some of the best action music written for any video game. However, what allows the Medal of Honor soundtrack to sustain its running time so well is the fact that Giacchino also knows how to write quieter music that keeps listeners on the edge of their seat. The result is a superb build up and release of tension. A composition like “Securing the Codebook” seamlessly moves from quiet snare drums to a ruthless rendition of the Nazi theme. Similarly, the subdued “The U-Boat” gets enough time to paint a strikingly vivid image of its claustrophobic location.

Secondly, Giacchino develops his compositions exceedingly well, superbly tying together their many changes of moods, dynamics and orchestral textures. Like the best orchestral game music, never do the pieces lose focus or direction. Equally, never do these compositions feel like a more or less well connected tapestry of musical gestures. A work like the Medal of Honor soundtrack is a resounding demonstration of how to write orchestral game music that follows a flawless internal logic. As a result, Giacchino’s cues emerge as fully-fledged compositions that effortlessly function as rousing musical statements outside of the game.

It’s this near perfect emulation of cinematic role models that helped Medal of Honor – and game soundtracks in general – to break through to the wider music mainstream. Many within the music industry and community finally realised that yes, game music could be as good as film music. Of course, that had already been the case for many years, long before Medal of Honor came around. However, it took a conservative revolutionary like Medal of Honor to introduce outsiders to game music. It did so by taking a more familiar genre’s conventions and applying them to game music in flawless fashion. And thus, game music became acceptable to more conservative tastes that had trouble appreciating the electronic sounds of the vast majority of video games thus far.

Of course, the irony is that while film music so obviously inspired the Medal of Honor soundtrack, Giacchino’s work sounds like no Hollywood war film score would have in 1999. That a World War II first-person shooter could be scored in 1999 like a rollicking adventure movie shows that while Medal of Honor‘s music perfectly imitates cinematic conventions, there was still a lot separating the aesthetics and tone of video games and movies.

That doesn’t change the fact that the Medal of Honor soundtrack changed the industry’s perception of live orchestral game music. Previously a rare extravagance, over time it would become a de facto standard. What Medal of Honor did was to bring game music into the musical mainstream like very few other game scores. And what’s more, it has the substance and quality to back up such an elevated position.

01 - Medal of Honor Michael Giacchino 4:10
02 - Locating Enemy Positions Michael Giacchino 4:12
03 - Taking out the Railgun Michael Giacchino 3:52
04 - Attack on Fort Schmerzen Michael Giacchino 3:57
05 - The Radar Train Michael Giacchino 3:35
06 - Rescuing the G3 Officer Michael Giacchino 4:09
07 - Panzer Attack Michael Giacchino 4:17
08 - Rjuken Sabotage Michael Giacchino 4:08
09 - The U-Boat Michael Giacchino 4:43
10 - Merker's Salt Mine Michael Giacchino 4:09
11 - Approaching Colditz Castle Michael Giacchino 3:22
12 - Securing the Codebook Michael Giacchino 3:37
13 - Nordhausen Michael Giacchino 3:18
14 - Stopping the V2 Michael Giacchino 4:14
15 - The Jet Aircraft Facility Michael Giacchino 3:29

Medal of Honor: Frontline Soundtrack

Medal of Honor: Frontline Soundtrack, Michael Giacchino, 2002

Both Medal of Honor and Medal of Honor: Underground had made a point of treating World War II not as a fun shooting spree (well, mostly). Instead, they approached the subject matter with an unusual degree of seriousness and respect. Medal of Honor: Frontline went further still, basing its story line on a failed Allied offensive: Operation Market Garden. This allowed the game’s developers to aim for an even greater sense of gravitas, born out of defeat and tragedy. Medal of Honor series regular Michael Giacchino responded similarly to the game’s comparatively downbeat subject matter. For Giacchino, Frontline is the ideal opportunity to once more expand the Medal of Honor franchise’s emotional palette. The result is one of the most operatic, grand Western game soundtracks ever written.

Where Frontline truly sets itself apart from previous Medal of Honor franchise scores is on its slower, downright elegiac compositions. These take the score’s theatricality to melodramatic heights that rival the game-music-as-opera surges of Heroes of Might and Magic II. “Arnhem” is one such piece, taken to emotional extremes by a full choir, to absolutely heart-rending effect. Based on a gently rocking, almost lullaby-like four-note motif, “Arnhem” is a stunning creation whose emotional impact is nearly overwhelming, climaxing in two massive choral outbursts. Patriotism had always featured in this franchise, but on “Arnhem”, it doesn’t come from a place of solemn pride. Instead, it is born out of sorrow and the desperate will to survive.

It seems then that Giacchino is exploring for the first time the darker side of war. However, he does so in monumentalising, melodically pleasing fashion. This is not Call of Duty’s depiction of war that embraced musical chaos. However, Medal of Honor: Frontline addresses the horrors of war to some degree through other means than extrovert pathos. Such compositions add necessary shades and subtlety to Giacchino’s treatment of the subject matter. Take “Border Town” and its desolate first half. This downcast atmosphere leads into a collision of the Medal of Honor main theme and an increasing feeling of dismay. “Nijmegen Bridge” takes these emotional contrasts one step further to represent the feelings of the Allied soldiers who had to hold Nijmegen Bridge against the approaching Nazi forces, waiting in vain for desperately needed reinforcements to arrive.

This interest in the psychology of the games’ protagonists had already characterised Medal of Honor and Medal of Honor: Underground. Not surprisingly, the Medal of Honor: Frontline soundtrack continues this tradition. In fact, it’s the successful combination of the operatic with the personal that allows Giacchino to write a score that’s so grandiose in scale, but never feels overwrought or emotionally hollow.

With Jimmy Patterson’s return on Frontline, his theme and the Medal of Honor theme also return to the fold. Both themes sound wearier and more inward then before, right from the moment when the Medal of Honor melody is presented on opening track “Operation Market Garden” by a lone boy soprano. There’s a undeniable feeling of bereavement to most presentations of Patterson’s theme and the Medal of Honor theme on Frontline. This results in an effective musical contrast when these melodies collide with the antagonistic sounds of a frenzied battle track.

The thematic elements that the Allied themes face off against include of course the Nazi fanfare from Medal of Honor. Surprisingly though, the motif plays a relatively minor role on this score. Instead – in tune with Frontline‘s focus on the personal dimension of the conflict – it’s the antagonist Rudolf von Sturmgeist’s theme that shapes the score’s thematic foundations more strongly. Von Sturmgeist’s theme is a far more malleable creation than Medal of Honor‘s harsh Nazi brass attack. The theme makes its first appearance on “Kleveburg”, where it’s presented as an ominous, slithery melody on woodwinds. With convincing ease, it creates a sense of anxiety through its pronounced chromaticism. From here on, the theme works its way through several variations until it takes “Escaping Gotha” – and the score as a whole – to a suitably powerful conclusion, as the full choir gets to throw its weight behind the theme’s mad scientist sensibilities.

Not surprisingly, Giacchino’s action writing on the Medal of Honor: Frontline soundtrack is just as excellent as one would expect. A more pronounced change in dynamics and moods within compositions means that the cues on Frontline are less immediate than their rambunctious counterparts on Medal of Honor, which hit the ground running at full speed. At the same time, it’s all the more exciting when the music kicks into overdrive and ventures into fortissimo territory. Giacchino’s Medal of Honor action pieces have always stood out for their masterfully implemented development. However, a perfectly self-contained composition like “The Halftrack Chase” manages to even surpass the composer’s sterling earlier efforts.

It all comes to a head on “Escaping Gotha”. This is probably the best action cue Giacchino has ever written for a game score. By the time “Escaping Gotha” closes with a cathartic recapitulation of the Medal of Honor main theme, finally heard on unadulteratedly triumphant trumpets, the Medal of Honor: Frontline soundtrack has established itself as one of the most superbly conceived, fully-realised game scores committed to album.

01 - Operation Market Garden Michael Giacchino 5:33
02 - Border Town Michael Giacchino 3:36
03 - U-4902 Michael Giacchino 4:44
04 - Shipyards of Lorient Michael Giacchino 3:14
05 - After the Drop Michael Giacchino 5:38
06 - Kleveburg Michael Giacchino 3:32
07 - Manor House Rally Michael Giacchino 3:48
08 - The Halftrack Chase Michael Giacchino 3:40
09 - Nijmegen Bridge Michael Giacchino 3:22
10 - The Rowhouses Michael Giacchino 4:40
11 - Arnhem Michael Giacchino 5:51
12 - Emmerich Station Michael Giacchino 3:02
13 - Thüringer Wald Express Michael Giacchino 2:52
14 - Sturmgeist's Armored Train Michael Giacchino 3:55
15 - Approaching the Tarmac Michael Giacchino 3:48
16 - Clipping Their Wings Michael Giacchino 3:27
17 - Escaping Gotha Michael Giacchino 7:16

Medal of Honor: Underground Soundtrack (PS1)

Medal of Honor: Underground Soundtrack (PS1), Michael Giacchino, 2000

Medal of Honor strove hard to create a first-person shooter experience that left an impression on players beyond the mere satisfaction of shooting bad guys before they could shoot you. However, the fact that the game progressed the FPS genre in terms of subject matter wasn’t its most revolutionary aspect. Instead, that particular achievement would have been the wide-spread critical recognition of game music’s quality outside of the gaming community. Michael Giacchino‘s Medal of Honor score fashioned itself on John Williams’ action scoring of the late 1980s and early 1990s. Astonishingly, it matched the elevated standards that come with such role models. As a result, bloggers, film score collectors and music fans in general – many for the first time – took note of the music produced for a video game.

Even more than Medal of Honor, Underground aims for historical authenticity (and thus reverence). Its main character Manon Baptiste is based on real-life French resistance fighter Hélène Deschamp Adams – who also served as a consultant on Underground. These efforts highlight the game designers’ increasing ambition to enrich action-driven gameplay through the retelling of one individual’s personal story. As a consequence, the Medal of Honor: Underground soundtrack shows greater interest than Medal of Honor in illuminating its protagonist’s psyche.

Giacchino finds a clever way to anchor this exploration of Manon Baptiste’s emotional states in Underground‘s thematic foundations. Giacchino’s simple but ingeniously implemented solution is to develop Manon’s two themes out of the same musical cell, an ascending two-note motif. After these two notes, variation “A” of the main theme leads into the Major key. It conveys a feeling of national purpose, similar to Medal of Honor‘s main theme, albeit less solemn and markedly lusher. Variation “B”, on the other hand, leads into a minor 6th chord, ending on a more thoughtful note. Adding more complexity still to Manon’s musical representation is a swelling two-note ostinato motif. This musical thought represents Manon’s determination to carry on in the chaos of battle.

A track like “Panzer Blockade” beautifully shows how Giacchino uses these musical building blocks. First there’s a yearning quotation of the “B” variation on solo trumpet against a hammering orchestral backdrop. The music then segues into the resolve motif on swelling strings that keep on building. Despite being mercilessly attacked by other instrumental groups, the resolve motif finally erupts into a rendition of the “A” variation. This is music with a simple, yet gripping dramatic arc that provides insight into the emotions of the game’s protagonist.

To this malleable new main theme, Giacchino adds the expected return of Medal of Honor‘s domineering Nazi theme. He also continues his technique to write his action tracks as variations on a newly introduced sub motif. The result is an immensely rich tapestry that turns the Medal of Honor: Underground soundtrack into one of the thematically best developed works in the Western game music canon.

What differentiates Underground more obviously though from its predecessor than these new themes is the music’s new emotional direction. More lyrical and light-footed than Medal of Honor, Underground heralds its intentions straight away with opening track “May 10th, 1940 (Main Theme)”, which features accordion, boys choir, solo cello, and a downright romantic rendition of variation “A”. These softer, more colourful sounds signal Giacchino’s desire to broaden the score’s instrumental and thus emotional palette. This tendency is also an obvious pointer towards the operatic heart-on-your-sleeve outpourings of Medal of Honor: Frontline.

Not only are the compositions on the Medal of Honor: Underground soundtrack richer in orchestral colours than Medal of Honor. They are also more subdued and varied in their mood. Certainly, Medal of Honor knew very well when to tone down the action and integrate stealth elements into the music. On Underground however, these more hushed musings become far more dominant. And that’s only fitting, considering that the music underscores the actions of the French resistance. These men and women couldn’t hope to beat the Nazis through open confrontation, but had to rely on covert operations.

Despite all this introspection, this is of course still the score for a first-person shooter. As was to be expected, Giacchino delivers first-rate action material in spades. To his credit, he injects his battle tracks with the same sensibilities as the quieter compositions to keep things coherent. On these action tracks, Giacchino implements greater changes in dynamics and orchestration than on Medal of Honor. Additionally, a leaner overall sound, carried by strings rather than brass, gives solo instruments more room to breathe and climaxes the chance to stand out even more.

Highlights are numerous, but best of all is “The Motorcycle Chase”. The way the cue’s sub motif seamlessly interacts with quotes of the “A” variation and the Nazi theme impresses. The composition’s development includes a passage for thunderous, unaccompanied percussion, before the cue grows more and more frantic with ever thicker textures. At last, the resolve motif leads into the score’s most triumphant reprise of the “A” variation against turbulent counterpoint.

It’s a moment of boisterous orchestral bliss, and one that beautiful sums up the cerebral and emotional pleasures to be found on the Medal of Honor: Underground soundtrack, which manages to underscore both firefights and character beats masterfully.

Conversion notes

Medal of Honor Underground is arguably an unlikely candidate for a Game Boy Advance conversion – but that’s exactly what happened in 2002. The prospect of a chiptunes-style demake of Giacchino’s orchestral pieces has its appeal. Sadly, that’s not what this port is going for – instead it aims to translate the original compositions as closely as possible for the GBA’s limited sound hardware. Given that many GBA games struggled to produce even SNES-standard sound quality, it’s a doomed undertaking and produces predictably unpleasant results.

01 - May 10th, 1940 Michael Giacchino 4:28
02 - Amongst the Dead Michael Giacchino 3:17
03 - Fleeing the Catacombs Michael Giacchino 3:09
04 - Panzer Blockade Michael Giacchino 3:20
05 - The Road to Tobruk Michael Giacchino 3:24
06 - Escape from Casablanca Michael Giacchino 3:20
07 - Passage to Iraklion Michael Giacchino 3:40
08 - Labyrinth of the Minotaur Michael Giacchino 3:15
09 - Ascent to the Castle Michael Giacchino 3:25
10 - Last Rites Michael Giacchino 3:34
11 - The Battle of Monte Cassino Michael Giacchino 3:16
12 - The Motorcycle Chase Michael Giacchino 4:18
13 - Returning to Paris Michael Giacchino 3:25
14 - Beneath the City Michael Giacchino 3:09

Perfect Dark Soundtrack (Nintendo 64)

Perfect Dark Soundtrack (Nintendo 64), David Clynick / Grant Kirkhope / Graeme Norgate, 2000

If you want to kick off a debate amongst seasoned console gamers, try “Is Perfect Dark better than GoldenEye 007?” According to reviewers, the answer is usually ‘yes’. After all, this is the game that gave Rare the opportunity to finetune their approach to developing a first-person shooter, after they had created a genre classic with GoldenEye 007. Arguably pushing the Nintendo 64 to its limits, Perfect Dark provided such a wealth of content and degree of polish that it was hard to see how a console shooter in 2000 could be any better. Then again, GoldenEye 007 had arguably been the more groundbreaking title, popularising console FPS games. As a result, Perfect Dark didn’t have quite the same impact, as it was ultimately an immense refinement rather than another quantum leap.

Naturally, for the Perfect Dark soundtrack, Rare would call upon the same talents that had created the music for GoldenEye 007 – easily the best score for any Bond game. Complications were afoot though. Initially, the task of writing the Perfect Dark score fell to Graeme Norgate, who was working on Jet Force Gemini at the same time. Norgate began to lay the groundwork for the music, choosing a palette of instruments and completing a number of compositions. However, mid-way through the three-year development process, Norgate and half of the development team left Rare to form Free Radical Design (best known for their TimeSplitters trilogy).

As a result, fellow GoldenEye 007 composer Grant Kirkhope was called in to complete the Perfect Dark soundtrack – while also working on Donkey Kong 64 and Banjo-Tooie – with support from David Clynick. Given the game’s sci-fi scenario, it was no surprise that Kirkhope “wanted to create a mostly electronic soundtrack”, with The X-Files and Blade Runner serving as inspirations, according to interviews with the composer. Kirkhope’s other stylistic choice was “to make it [the Perfect Dark score] moody and dark but still with some strong thematic elements.” In that regard, Kirkhope arguably followed in the footsteps of his work on GoldenEye 007, which had balanced languid mood-building with carefully deployed melodic elements. Interestingly, Kirkhope kept Norgate’s samples, even though they weren’t always the ones he would have chosen – according to Kirkhope, “they sounded so great and made me think outside of my usual comfort zone”.

Of course, like the game itself, it’s hard to look at the Perfect Dark soundtrack without comparing it to its spiritual predecessor. By and large, Perfect Dark fits the same mould as Golden Eye 007 – this is mostly subdued, brooding music for a stealth game, rather than a pulse-pounding score for an all-guns-blazing shooting spree. And as on GoldenEye 007, Kirkhope and his co-composers accomplish the impressive task of holding listeners’ attention during their extended cues with what’s ultimately fairly understated, yet no less involving music.

What is different here is how the Perfect Dark soundtrack achieves this effect, audible from the start of Norgate’s “dataDyne Central: Defection”. GoldenEye007’s compositions often achieved a nearly hypnotic effect through their juxtaposition of sparse textures and repetitive, memorable melodies on a single solo instrument. Kirkhope’s flawless judgement of pacing and how to write effective melodies remains intact on Perfect Dark, but his orchestrations are lusher and more intricate, intriguing listeners through their careful layering and sculpting. It no doubt helps that Perfect Dark – unlike GoldenEye007 – is not an N64 first-generation title. As a result, the more realistic samples Kirkhope works with allow him to often let the intricately combined rhythms carry a track, rather than relying on the melody to do this job (as was often the case on GoldenEye 007).

Another substantial difference that comes with Perfect Dark’s futuristic backdrop is a distinct lack of GoldenEye007’s grittiness. Instead, from the very first track, Perfect Dark’s neo-noir elegance fittingly underscores the architecture of the game’s locations – all shiny metal surfaces gleaming in the night and massive structures cast in imposing angles. The fact that Perfect Dark’s locations are more spectacular than those in GoldenEye007 also highlights what’s ultimately the biggest difference between the two games: Perfect Dark’s far larger scale. Not that GoldenEye007 was thinking small – after all, few Bond adventures do. But Perfect Dark arguably goes a few steps further, involving two warring alien races, a conspiracy to replace the US president and the impending destruction of planet Earth itself.

How do Kirkhope and his team bring this awe-inspiring scenario across, without breaking the soundtrack’s mould, which – like GoldenEye 007 – largely eschews theatrics? As before, they manage with the help of a few inspired artistic choices that have a surprisingly large impact. Kirkhope makes ample use of synth choir (“one of the samples that Graeme left behind — I think it’s called Tron Choir”). Predictably, he sometimes deploys the choir to give the music more gravitas – take “dataDyne Central: Extraction”, which juxtaposes the choir with immense, resonant percussion strikes. As effective as these episodes are, Kirkhope mostly uses the choir to a different end: creating an eerie, at times quietly unsettling atmosphere. Listen to “G5 Building: Reconnaissance” and its dissonant choral chord progressions, or the majestic-yet-spooky “Deep Sea: Nullify Threat” for proof of Kirkhope’s assured handling of vocal elements.

Thus, Kirkhope chooses to underscore Perfect Dark’s otherworldly protagonists and awe-inspiring events by highlighting their unearthly nature – a smart choice that allows him to preserve and subtly alter the music’s relatively low-key nature. Kirkhope amplifies the effect through his use of a theremin-like whistling melody lead on several tracks. Again, these high-pitched, elusive sounds ingeniously accentuate the music’s alien qualities – obviously a perfect match for the game’s narrative. However, these melody leads can also evoke much more earthbound emotions. Kirkhope lists “Chicago: Stealth” as one of this favourite tracks from Perfect Dark and for good reason. The cue is arguably his most striking melange of haunting atmospherics and outright melodicism, with the whistled lead melody suddenly sounding far more lonely than unsettling.

Like GoldenEye 007, the Perfect Dark soundtrack – despite the static nature of many of its compositions – knows how to ramp things up to underscore the game’s increasingly escalating stakes. “Airbase 51: Infiltration” and “Airbase: Espionage” begin to smoothly mix orchestral bombast and rock energy into the score’s electronic foundation. “Crash Site: Confrontation”’s steely determination under fire yields the soundtrack’s most soaring melody, while “Pelagic 2: Exploration” builds upon this momentum with dramatic secret agent-style swagger. The flawlessly executed climax of this build up is the suitably epic final boss track “Skedar Leader”. The composition showcases Kirkhope’s ability to also write extended action tracks, thanks to an abundance of perfectly developed material.

Does all this mean that Perfect Dark is a better soundtrack than GoldenEye007? Not necessarily – but what Perfect Dark does is demonstrate how to write a brilliant sequel score that smartly tweaks its predecessors’ musical approach, creating something both familiar and excitingly fresh.

Conversion notes

The music for Perfect Dark’s Game Boy Colour port is a curious case – a soundtrack that’s enticing and frustrating in equal measure. Composers Kirkhope and Eveline Novakovic achieve the hugely impressive feat of convincingly replicating some of the N64 compositions on a far more limited platform – an even greater achievement maybe than Kirkhope’s Donkey Kong Island 2. Unfortunately, only three pieces from the original score find space on the GBC cartridge, equaling just about 10 minutes of music. A shame – with more converted material, this could have been a classic handheld score.

01 - Institute Menu Clynick, David / Kirkhope, Grant / Norgate, Graeme 2:07
02 - dataDyne Central: Defection Clynick, David / Kirkhope, Grant / Norgate, Graeme 7:38
03 - dataDyne Central: Investigation Clynick, David / Kirkhope, Grant / Norgate, Graeme 6:30
04 - dataDyne Central: Extraction Clynick, David / Kirkhope, Grant / Norgate, Graeme 4:29
05 - Carrington Villa: Hostage One Clynick, David / Kirkhope, Grant / Norgate, Graeme 5:31
06 - Chicago: Stealth Clynick, David / Kirkhope, Grant / Norgate, Graeme 5:26
07 - G5 Building: Reconnaissance Clynick, David / Kirkhope, Grant / Norgate, Graeme 6:42
08 - Area 51: Infiltration Clynick, David / Kirkhope, Grant / Norgate, Graeme 4:38
09 - Airbase: Espionage Clynick, David / Kirkhope, Grant / Norgate, Graeme 6:54
10 - Air Force One: Anti Terrorism Clynick, David / Kirkhope, Grant / Norgate, Graeme 5:55
11 - Crash Site: Confrontation Clynick, David / Kirkhope, Grant / Norgate, Graeme 4:49
12 - Pelagic 2: Extraction Clynick, David / Kirkhope, Grant / Norgate, Graeme 5:52
13 - Deep Sea: Nullify Threat Clynick, David / Kirkhope, Grant / Norgate, Graeme 6:43
14 - Carrington Institute Clynick, David / Kirkhope, Grant / Norgate, Graeme 5:37
15 - Attack Ship: Covert Assault Clynick, David / Kirkhope, Grant / Norgate, Graeme 6:20
16 - Skedar Ruins: Battle Shrine Clynick, David / Kirkhope, Grant / Norgate, Graeme 6:58
17 - Skedar Leader Clynick, David / Kirkhope, Grant / Norgate, Graeme 5:51
18 - Credits Clynick, David / Kirkhope, Grant / Norgate, Graeme 4:06
19 - Dark Combat Clynick, David / Kirkhope, Grant / Norgate, Graeme 4:55
20 - CI Operative Clynick, David / Kirkhope, Grant / Norgate, Graeme 5:38
21 - dataDyne Action Clynick, David / Kirkhope, Grant / Norgate, Graeme 6:17
22 - Maian Tears Clynick, David / Kirkhope, Grant / Norgate, Graeme 6:47

Shien’s Revenge Soundtrack

Shien’s Revenge Soundtrack, Akihiko Mori, 1994

In retrospect, the Super Scope seems like one of the more bizarre peripherals designed for the SNES – particularly considering how hard Nintendo tried to cultivate a family-friendly image during the era of the 16-bit console wars. Exactly how many parents would have been pleased to see their offspring in front of the TV with a bazooka-like contraption is anyone’s guess. Arguably though, if there was a genre that benefited from the Super Scope’s controls, it was rail shooters, with their static field of view and necessity to quickly and precisely move the cursor around the screen.

One of the better received rail shooters on the SNES was Shien’s Revenge (despite what must rank as possibly the most boring cover art in the console’s history). Sending players through various locations and time zones, Shien’s Revenge’s colourful visuals managed to stave off some the monotony caused by the repetitive gameplay. For the game’s score, developer Almanic approached game sound company MINT. And this is where things become a bit confusing when we try to identify who composed the music for Shien’s Revenge.

The game’s credits list Michiya Hirasawa (founder of MINT), Tsukushi Sasaki and Akihiko Mori for “Music & Sound Effects”. Looking at Michiya Hirasawa’s resume, it’s obvious that his area of expertise was sound programming rather than music composition. Tsukushi Sasaki’s portfolio is rather slim and again includes more work on sound programming than on music. That – and the musical style of Shien’s Revenge soundtrack – suggests that this score was actually written by Akihiko Mori. Mori had delivered his breakthrough work with Lock On the year before and it might have well been on the strength of this soundtrack that he joined MINT. After several years of relatively infrequent output, this move to MINT heralded the beginning of an immensely productive period for Mori.

His enthusiasm about this change of circumstances – joining MINT likely meant more steady work – is audible throughout the entire Shien’s Revenge soundtrack. On Lock On, Mori had displayed his penchant for dense, elaborate instrumentations, applied to a jazz/rock/orchestra genre mix. On most of Shien’s Revenge, Mori applies the same talent to orchestral action music, with thrilling results. Very few SNES composers match Mori’s talent to write astoundingly rich orchestral music, hyper-charged here through the game’s frantically-paced gameplay.

Listening to many of Mori’s compositions, it’s remarkable just how many ideas he crams into a single piece, even if it’s shorter than one minute (unlooped). New melodies, rhythms and instrumental colours whizz by at breakneck speed, and yet Mori is able to control his cues’ consistency and flow. This is a composer who doesn’t just write orchestrally-styled SNES music, but knows how to handle the (synth) ensemble at hand like an actual orchestra.

Try out “Burning Fortress”, an orchestral powerhouse that changes its lead instrument every few seconds, but maintains constant forward propulsion. Never sticking with one melody or rhythm for very long, “Burning Fortress” is game music that’s closer to film soundtracks or classical music than the vast majority of SNES orchestral scores. “With Cap and Baton” is equally possessed of indomitable energy, but also maintains nervous tension through its jittery rhythms and several stops and starts. The most breathless example of Mori’s anything-and-the-kitchen-sink approach is “Military Castle”, which perfectly balances repetition (heavy rhythms and hammering piano chords) with an immensely varied structure.

The sheer amount of orchestral busyness and details doesn’t mean that Mori entirely foregoes slower material and mood-building exercises. “Misty Landside Street” remains within the soundtrack’s action-packed template, but its fluttering woodwind calls, quivering strings and sustained, cleverly implemented background chords paint a potent image of the cue’s hazy location. Other breathers arrive in the shape of “Fear Factory” and “Hallucination”. It’s particularly on the game’s excursions into future time zones that Mori drops the frenzy of his other pieces, but still maintains the soundtrack’s intensity. “Fear Factory”’s fairly static material is still captivating, thanks to how unpredictably its elements – a 4/4 bass pulse, uneasy flute and brass chords – interact with each other. “Hallucination” almost ventures into horror score territory, when an oppressive string melody and harp arpeggios are followed by nothing but dissonant, creepily echoing piano chords.

Indeed, while Mori’s handling of traditional orchestral forces is nearly perfect on the Shien’s Revenge soundtrack, he is absolutely capable of infusing his palette with less classical elements. Not that Shien’s Revenge is as much of a genre mix as Lock On, but the game’s time-travelling element gives Mori a welcome excuse to add yet more colours to his music. The game’s Japan levels receive the expected pentatonic string progressions and local woodwind colours, integrated seamlessly into the turbulent orchestrations.

The difference between these tracks and those set in Manchuria and Mongolia is subtle, but very much present, as Mori manages to give each location its own signature sound. No doubt the biggest challenge would have been to find the right sound for the game’s ancient Greece stages. Mori’s solution – monolithic rhythms, declamatory ostinati and crashing melodies – isn’t entirely surprising, but once more integrated perfectly. And the focus on wooden xylophones on “Zombie Taurus” is an inspired and effective choice.

Towards the end of the Shien’s Revenge soundtrack, once the game’s sci-fi trappings come through more clearly, electronic elements make their presence felt more strongly – but so do rock guitars and drums. “Masked Ninja Robot” is an intriguing change of style after the orchestral rush that preceded it – a mid-tempo rock track with electronic backing that is both terse and melodic through its unpredictable guitar soli. Final boss track “Bad Dream” picks up the same rock/electro/orchestra combination and turns it into something more conventionally powerful and spectacular. Its heroic trumpet lead spearheads a composition whose hard rock sounds only make the music denser and more dramatic still. No wonder than that “Ending” closes with enthusiastic, impressive dual guitar heroics that close the Shien’s Revenge soundtrack on the most exuberant note – the perfect summation of this joyfully bustling score.

01 - Prologue Akihiko Mori 2:21
02 - Training Akihiko Mori 1:05
03 - Burning Fortress (Stage 1-1: 16th Century Japan) Akihiko Mori 1:39
04 - Misty Landside Street (Stage 1-2: 16th Century Japan) Akihiko Mori 1:22
05 - With Cap And Baton (Boss 1: Sawtooth) Akihiko Mori 2:13
06 - Riverside Rumble (Stage 2-1: 300 B.C. Manchuria) Akihiko Mori 1:50
07 - Swimming Firedragon (Boss 2) Akihiko Mori 2:05
08 - Occupied Metropolis (Stage 3-1: 20th Century France) Akihiko Mori 1:30
09 - Military Castle (Stage 3-2: 20th Century France) Akihiko Mori 1:48
10 - Mongolian Ride (Stage 4-1: 13th Century Mongolia) Akihiko Mori 1:18
11 - Wild Wrestling (Boss 4: Bangol, Commander of Genghis Khan's Troops) Akihiko Mori 2:15
12 - Fear Factory (Stage 5-2: 21th Century South America) Akihiko Mori 1:36
13 - Masked Ninja Robot (Boss 5: The Undertaker, Most Powerful Mercenary in the Empire of Eldorado) Akihiko Mori 3:04
14 - Greece Temples (Stage 6-1: 500 B.C. Greece) Akihiko Mori 1:56
15 - Zombie Taurus (Boss 6: Argos) Akihiko Mori 2:14
16 - Bad Dream (Boss Final: Tempor) Akihiko Mori 2:27
17 - Rescued? Akihiko Mori 1:44
18 - Epilogue Akihiko Mori 3:17
19 - Ending Akihiko Mori 3:27