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8-Bit Rally Soundtrack

8-Bit Rally Soundtrack, poisoncut, 2011

Despite the album title, this is not one of the many retro exercises in NES-style chiptunes. Instead, composer poisoncut’s work here makes full use of contemporary sounds and production techniques. At the same time, he subtly alludes to the music of the games that inspired 8-Bit Rally – the Lotus and Top Gear franchises. In a way, poisoncut is in a fortunate situation. The Lotus and Top Gear soundtracks never really developed an unmistakable signature sound, despite some recurring stylistic features. This means that poisoncut doesn’t need to mimic particular musical gestures. Instead he is free to work within his own style of melodic, high-octane electronic music. And in the end, that is enough to maintain consistency with 8-Bit Rally’s musical inspirations.

The 8-Bit Rally soundtrack differs most obviously from the Lotus and Top Gear scores in its melody-driven nature. One listen to opening track “Renegade Racer” confirms that poisoncut is more willing than Barry Leitch and Patrick Phelan to hit listeners hard and fast with catchy melodies. Combine this tendency with heavier beats and 8-Bit Rally’s music is deliciously in-your-face and fuss-free. poisoncut’s melodic chops are evident throughout the album, as he serves up both memorable hooks and more long-winded melodies. The latter are also introduced on “Renegade Racer”, as a measured synth melody powerfully unfolds on top of pumping beats. It’s a perfectly judged combination of contrasts. Insistent, beefy beats deliver the necessary speed rush, while the determined melodies tell players that they are still in control of the frantic racing action around them, ready to capture first place.

It’s a strategy that poisoncut deploys throughout the album to predictable but always great effect. Just take second track “Midnight Diversion”. The Lotus and Top Gear franchises have always excelled at this sort of nocturnal racing music – take Lotus Turbo Challenge 2’s “Night” or “Las Vegas” from Top Gear, maybe the franchise’s defining moment. What poisoncut delivers is just as fantastic, his chrome-polished, sleek melody an irresistible stadium filler ready for 1980s chart action. The self-assured way in which poisoncut presents his melodies cements his pop credentials. Always given enough room to breathe and to make their mark through repetition, these melodies never outstay their welcome either, each track moving seamlessly onwards. And it’s never a monotonous rush, as cues rise and fall in intensity with pinpoint precision and to maximum effect.

Apart from its melodic one-two punches, what makes the 8-Bit Rally soundtrack so supremely entertaining is its variety. Without fail, poisoncut responds to each location’s character – not always in surprising terms, but always with verve and enthusiasm. It’s here that 8-Bit Rally surpasses its musical progenitors. poisoncut’s work is more responsive to its locations than the Top Gear games. Equally, 8-Bit Rally‘s tracks are more developed than the short racing cues of the Lotus franchise. For example, “Space Drive”’s opening arpeggios hint at a melody rather than exposing it, preparing the track’s more ethereal nature. Once the lead melody comes in – bubbly and a bit dreamy – “Space Drive” becomes unexpectedly and delightfully playful. Listen to the lead melody’s echoing notes, which trigger small, unpredictable cascades of shooting stars.

The 8-Bit Rally soundtrack knows how to pace itself and so “Space Drive”’s levity segues into “Phantom of the Road”’s grimy bass beats. Fuzzy around the edges and disappearing in the haze, the track’s rhythmic foundation adds to the music’s eerie mood. A nagging synth pulse attacks an expectedly thin, lonely lead – and then, the album’s most melancholic melody turns the self-confidence of previous tracks inwards, but still maintains their head-nodding, catchy progression. It’s moments like these that showcase poisoncut’s ability to manipulate moods while keeping the album as a whole musically coherent.

That even applies to the moment when “Phantom of the Road” gives way to “Distant Journey”’s irresistible sugar rush. Taking its cue from 90s techno – in the best possible way – “Distant Journey” hammers home its Major-key enthusiasm with the album’s most memorable melodic idea. It’s the perfect, carefree environment to introduce 8-Bit Rally’s first chiptune elements, a joyful shout out to classic game music. And then the music reaches for the stars as “Distant Journey” soars even higher, its euphoria exploding and rushing through the solar system at warp speed.

It’s for the end of the 8-Bit Rally soundtrack that poisoncut reserves his most creative concoction. “Miles of Funk” is a fascinating track, both retro-inspired and futuristic in its take on funk music. Opening with a down-and-dirty, strutting bounce, “Miles of Funk” heads to the after-race party with some wild, temperamental chiptune soli. At the same time, its confidently grooving rhythms and more traditional melodic material anchor it in funk’s classic, effortless cool. Not to mention that “Miles of Funk” is just as supremely danceable as the rest of the album. It’s the perfect close to an album that builds on past musical styles rather than simply trying to mimic them.

01 - Renegade Racer poisoncut 03:01
02 - Midnight Diversion poisoncut 02:58
03 - Space Drive poisoncut 02:55
04 - Phantom of the Road poisoncut 02:57
05 - Distant Journey poisoncut 03:14
06 - Miles of Funk poisoncut 03:26
07 - Cockpit View (8-Bit Rally Version) poisoncut 02:57

Azkend 2: The World Beneath Soundtrack

Azkend 2: The World Beneath Soundtrack, Jonathan Geer, 2012

One of the most exciting experiences for music collectors is to come across a work that defies expectations and delivers something much more involving and satisfying than expected. Jonathan Geer’s Azkend 2: The World Beneath soundtrack is exactly that sort of album. It’s music for yet another match-3 game – a genre whose popularity soared with the advent of mobile gaming. This is not necessarily the kind of game one expects to deliver a full-bodied, lush (synth)orchestral score. However, that’s precisely what Azkend 2 achieves.

In an interview, Geer stated that “this kind of big, lush, adventurous soundtrack is really right up my alley and probably my strongest genre as a composer. My goal was to just write something very romantic and big.” You only need to listen to opening track “Azkend 2 Theme” to realise that Geer achieved his aims. If you walked into this soundtrack not knowing what kind of game it was written for, chances are that you’d never guess this was music created for a puzzler. Instead, this is the kind of mature orchestral score that you’d expect to hear in a big-budget RPG.

“Azkend 2 Theme” starts with a triumphant brass melody, filled to the brink with a swaggering sense of high adventure. Given the game’s protagonist is a pirate, the melody’s unabashed swashbuckling is entirely appropriate. The melody then reappears in various shapes and iterations, including on sweeping strings and in a dignified, flowing cello rendition. It’s obvious that Geer has a firm grasp of how to make full use of the orchestra’s resources. What’s more, his ability to manipulate the timbre and dynamics of his main theme is outstanding. The result is a composition that is constantly in motion yet always melodically focused.

Indeed, if you are a fan of big melodies, the Azkend 2: The World Beneath soundtrack delivers all the way. Each of the score’s five longer tracks features at least one gushing melodic outburst that is a pleasure to behold. On “Discovery” and “Awe”, these moments come courtesy of reprises of the main theme. The theme doesn’t grow old even during these relatively straightforward recapitulations, as it maintains its indomitable, rousing spirit. And the theme is hardly Geer’s only striking melodic creation. “Explorers” and “Rain and Mystery” rely on new melodies which crescendo into broad statements that are just as splendid as the main theme.

While “Azkend 2 Theme” let Geer build a boisterous roller coaster of a track, later compositions allow for more measured development of their ideas, beautifully balancing those build ups and melodic outpourings with moments of calm wonder and even playfulness and mischievousness. Take “Discovery”, which follows “Azkend 2 Theme”s romp with celesta and harp leads to set a beguiling mood of mystery. The main theme’s grand return celebrates the joys of discovering new worlds, but the following episode for gently driving violin ostinati and angelic female choirs combines the soundtrack’s impressive feeling of scale with a quiet sense of wonder and careful exploration. It’s a finely tuned balance that comes to mark the Azkend 2: The World Beneath soundtrack as a whole.

Other tracks keep tweaking the soundtrack’s lavishly orchestrated formula. “Explorers”’ big crescendo intriguingly doesn’t result in another big melodic statement. Instead, the composition returns to its opening figure, a flighty, Harry Potter-esque arpeggio idea. This unexpected twist adds a touch of light-hearted whimsy to the music. Later on, one of the score’s best melodies sweeps the music off its feet and irresistibly carries it waltzing through palace halls, anchored by confident timpani accents. With a climax that feels both romantic and enterprising, “Explorers” builds the soundtrack’s most intriguing narrative.

“Rain and Mystery” is the album’s most delicate composition, again changing the tone of the score. The track convincingly balances its expansive, slightly Gothic string melody with another delightful passage for harp and celesta. The composition also continues the album’s streak of whimsical wonder when it presents its main melody in a carefree piano rendition, set against violin pizzicati. At times, “Rain and Mystery” has the fairy tale charm of a vintage Disney soundtrack. It’s a homage Azkend 2 executes better than Cinders, an orchestral indie score with similar ambitions.

The only composition that falls short of the album’s high standards is “Awe”. Despite some noteworthy melodic moments, it ultimately relies a bit too much on its strident string ostinato rhythms. In the end, that’s only a minor blemish though and does nothing to diminish the fact that at the time of its release, the Azkend 2: The World Beneath soundtrack set new standards for orchestral indie game scores – and trumped the vast majority of its mainstream competition too.

01 - Azkend 2 Theme Jonathan Geer 2:46
02- Discovery Jonathan Geer 4:09
03 - Explorers Jonathan Geer 4:21
04 - Rain and Mystery Jonathan Geer 4:06

Dragon Quest IV Soundtrack (Mobile)

Since an internet search for screenshots of the mobile version’s cover came up empty, a screenshot of the PlayStation port’s cover has been used above.

Dragon Quest IV Soundtrack (Mobile), Koichi Sugiyama, 2014

It is to the credit of developer Chunsoft and publisher Enix that coming off the jaw-dropping success of Dragon Quest III, they decided not to play things safe with the next game in the franchise. Instead, they went to shake things up, going so far as to turn the game’s story into a series of initially unrelated chapters that introduce the various party members – before they all come together in the final chapter. Other innovations included day and night cycles, an early artificial intelligence system to give non-playable party members combat instructions, and the choice of which characters to use in battle. Dragon Quest IV turned into another million-seller for Enix – not quite as successful as its predecessor, but 3.1 million copies sold just in Japan for the NES original is not exactly a bad result either.

As per tradition, Koichi Sugiyama was back on board to score the Dragon Quest IV soundtrack. It turned out to be one of the most expansive NES scores ever written, clocking in at nearly a whole hour (looped). Sugiyama once more increased the score’s breadth, writing a theme for each world map and several other location-specific compositions – on top of the pieces written for the usual suspects (town, dungeon, castle etc.)

Also, as per tradition, an orchestral arrangement of the Dragon Quest IV soundtrack followed soon. In fact, Dragon Quest IV might well have received more orchestral recordings than any other game or film score – with the NHK Symphony Orchestra in 1990, the London Philharmonic Orchestra in 1991, the Kanagawa Philharmonic Orchestra in 2002 and the Tokyo Metropolitan Symphony Orchestra in 2005. The 1991 LPO album was the first time the orchestra recorded a Dragon Quest score. It was also the first occasion when an internationally renowned, top-tier orchestra recorded video game music, making this a seminal album release. Clearly, Enix had confidence in their product – and a generous budget. This became more obvious still when the company produced a VHS tape, showing the LPO performing the score under the baton of Sugiyama – interspersed with scenes of actors in medieval costumes acting out various short scenes on Warwick Castle!

Thankfully, all this care lavished upon the Dragon Quest IV soundtrack – or rather its orchestral arrangement – was well worth it, with game music fans often considering this work the franchise’s musical apogee. Of course, later remakes of the game – on PlayStation in 2001, Nintendo DS in 2007 and mobile phones in 2014 – preserved the orchestral arrangements and added some musical content, most of it underscoring a new, sixth chapter. As with Dragon Quest III, the new material isn’t all that noteworthy – although “In a Town (Night)” surprises by offering not just a stripped-down version of “In a Town”. Instead, it blossoms into a lovely, flute-led reverie. Out of the three remakes, the mobile phone version provides the most life-like sound – not surprising, given advances in sound chip technology. Still, no one will mistake it for the ‘real’ thing – the live-orchestral performance this soundtrack is based on.

And so, as with Dragon Quest III, once again the question arises – why bother with these console ports of the orchestral arrangements if they sound significantly inferior and add little additional content? In Dragon Quest III’s case, the issue was a bit less complicated – its Nintendo 3DS port was undoubtedly closer in sound to the live performances than the mobile Dragon Quest IV version is. Again, it comes down to the fact that we are looking at music as used in-game, not as a separate album release (like the orchestral live performances). In other words: if you ignored the fact that better versions of this music exist outside of the realm of in-game music, you would be left with what is still a fantastic RPG score.

It’s easy to take the excellence of the arranged Dragon Quest IV soundtrack for granted – but that would mean overlooking the almost schizophrenic quality of the material Sugiyama worked with. The NES Dragon Quest IV score is an odd duck. On the one hand, it is not just one of the longest NES soundtracks, but also the first franchise score where Sugiyama experiments more extensively with the console’s sound chip. Sugiyama gives the melody to the triangle channel in its higher registers on several occasions, while the two harmonising square wave channels provide nearly chordal support. Elsewhere – for example on “Expanding the Map” – Sugiyama makes clever use of echo effects to suggest thicker textures and a lusher sound. “Cursed Towers” and “Ballon’s Flight” are the composer’s most rhythmically daring NES compositions – the latter’s constant metre changes make it an almost head-spinning experience.

On the other hand, many of Sugiyama’s NES tracks are among the simplest he has written – take the various world map themes, all of which present fairly slight melodies against a repetitive rhythmic accompaniment. Other compositions come across as experiments rather than fully-developed compositions – just sample the two colosseum cues, which pit wispy, unpredictable melodies against absolutely overbearing arpeggios. As a result, on the NES the Dragon Quest IV soundtrack presents itself as a confusingly patchy affair, with dizzying heights and lackadaisical lows.

As with Dragon Quest III, it’s through the orchestral arrangement that many of the tracks come to life, courtesy of Sugiyama’s flair for luxurious, sometimes dazzling orchestrations, and the rhythmic and dynamic nuances a live performance allows for. Those previously drab map themes combine into “Comrades”, a ten-minute medley that might be the franchise’s most remarkable musical accomplishment, overflowing with colours as it moves from one delightful, vivacious section to the next. “Expanding the Map” – the sailing theme – becomes one of game music’s most ravishingly swooning compositions, underscoring the romantic nature of seafaring as much as the cyclical motion of the waves (the mobile version struggles to reproduce the density of the live orchestrations and their sheer emotional weight). And those two colosseum tracks sound like they had always been written with an orchestra in mind, turning into a serene woodwind meditation and an ebullient march, respectively.

But what if Sugiyama had indeed written the orchestral pieces first and then tried to convert them for the NES, and not the other way around as usually? Remember that the first Dragon Quest IV orchestral album was released only a month after the game. Without any further confirmation through interviews with Sugiyama or Chunsoft staff, we are left guessing. Still, this order of events might explain why the orchestral version of the Dragon Quest IV soundtrack is so consistently strong (even one of the battle tracks convinces!), but the NES music is so scattershot.

Of course, when the NES tracks soar, the orchestral arrangements easily follow suit. “Cursed Towers” builds on the NES version’s web of polyrhythms by adding a curious mix of constantly bubbling tuba lines, glockenspiel and ethereal string chords, giving the track a surprisingly playful mood. Meanwhile, “Balloon Flight”’s willowy chiptunes leads turn into complex, woodwind-heavy counterpoint clad in chamber music-sized orchestrations. And at the end, there’s even one occasion where the mobile phone port outclasses the symphonic recording. Sugiyama’s orchestrated version of “Finale” is a bit sedate, lacking the constant rush of ideas and excitement that turns the NES track into the platform’s most formidable approximation of symphonic orchestral writing. Thankfully, the mobile phone port of “Finale” is based on the NES cue, not the orchestral version – bringing the score to a truly spectacular finale that helps us overlook some technology-induced shortcomings along the way.

01 - The Warrior Conquers Alone (Chapter 1 Map) Sugiyama, Koichi 2:58
02 - Tomboy Princess' March (Chapter 2 Map) Sugiyama, Koichi 3:26
03 - Weapons Merchant Torneko (Chapter 3 Map) Sugiyama, Koichi 3:21
04 - Gypsy's Dance Sugiyama, Koichi 1:37
05 - Gypsy's Journey (Chapter 4 Map) Sugiyama, Koichi 2:14
06 - In A Town (Day) Sugiyama, Koichi 3:08
07 - In A Town (Night) Sugiyama, Koichi 2:33
08 - Casino Rag Sugiyama, Koichi 3:08
09 - Colosseum Back Stage Sugiyama, Koichi 2:06
10 - Colosseum Stand Sugiyama, Koichi 2:22
11 - Homeland (Chapter 5 Map) Sugiyama, Koichi 3:10
12 - Wagon's Wheel March (Chapter 5 Map with Wagon) Sugiyama, Koichi 5:09
13 - Frightening Dungeon Sugiyama, Koichi 3:37
14 - Cursed Towers Sugiyama, Koichi 3:13
15 - Mysterious Shrine Sugiyama, Koichi 2:12
16 - Expanding the Map (Chapter 5 Map with Ship) Sugiyama, Koichi 3:43
17 - Balloon's Flight (Chapter 5 Map with Balloon) Sugiyama, Koichi 6:09
18 - The Unknown Castle Sugiyama, Koichi 3:34
19 - Battle for the Glory Sugiyama, Koichi 2:06
20 - Finale Sugiyama, Koichi 10:55

Dragon Quest VI Soundtrack (Mobile)

Dragon Quest VI Soundtrack (Mobile), Koichi Sugiyama, 2015

Dragon Quest V was the first game in the franchise to hit a 16-bit platform. But while it sported one of the era’s more original and moving narratives, its presentation felt like a relatively minor upgrade over its NES predecessor. Thankfully, Dragon Quest VI fixed this particular issue. Released in 1995, Dragon Quest VI wholeheartedly embraced the SNES’ technical capacities, featuring far more detailed and colourful graphics. Players also enjoyed a much larger game world, thanks to Dragon Quest VI’s ‘real world/dream world’ set up. Development duties passed from Chunsoft on to Heart Beat, founded in 1992 by Manabu Yamana, director of Dragon Quest III-V. Needless to say, Dragon Quest VI became the best-selling game of 1995 in Japan. On top of those 3.2 million SNES cartridges, it later sold an additional one million copies on the Nintendo DS.

Of course, Koichi Sugiyama returned once more to deliver the Dragon Quest VI soundtrack. On this occasion, he was joined by two unusually famous collaborators: seasoned fellow game composers Hitoshi Sakimoto and Tsukasa Tawada, who handled sound design duties. Maybe as a result, Dragon Quest VI’s instrument samples are a marked improvement over those used on previous SNES Dragon Quest games. However, their quality is strangely inconsistent – listen to the watery strings on “Monsters” and “Eternal Lullaby”. Then again – as always – all eyes were on the orchestral arrangement of the score anyway, released less than two weeks after the game and once more performed by the London Philharmonic Orchestra. A re-recording with the Tokyo Metropolitan Symphony Orchestra followed in 2006. Compared to other games in the franchise, Dragon Quest VI received relatively few ports – to the Nintendo DS in 2010 and smartphones in 2015.

As with previous Dragon Quest games, the question remains: “Do I need to listen to the game score, or can I just get the orchestral album?” And as with every Dragon Quest title since the very first one, the answer remains: “Strictly speaking, you don’t have to bother with the game score.” Once more, the orchestral arrangement covers more or less all of the music heard in the original game and the various ports – any exclusive material isn’t particularly noteworthy. And of course, the live performances sound significantly better than anything the console versions can produce. That being said, some intriguing details found on the SNES original – like the underwater ambience of “Wandering through the Silence” or the ghostly woodwind lead on “Satan’s Castle” – are sadly missing in the orchestral arrangements.

Ultimately – if we simply look at the music as used in-game – the most recent Dragon Quest VI port emerges as one of the best RPG soundtracks on its respective platform (as was the case with Dragon Quest III, IV and V). Naturally, the ports can’t hope to produce a 1:1 emulation of the orchestral performances’ splendour – but even an approximation delivers outstanding results.

Upon closer inspection, the Dragon Quest VI soundtrack presents an intriguing set of contradictions. On the one hand, it might reveal the limitations of Sugiyama’s approach. Where previous series soundtracks expanded the template laid down by the original Dragon Quest (town theme/castle theme/dungeon theme etc.), Dragon Quest V had slowed down this momentum, and Dragon Quest VI follows suit. What added scope there is comes from increased quantity: instead of one field theme, there are now three; instead of one battle themes, there are four etc. And where Dragon Quest III and IV had introduced some novel orchestral colours, and Dragon Quest V had a peculiarly dreamy atmosphere, Dragon Quest VI’s orchestrations stylistically give it the feel of a relatively standard high-fantasy score.

But if Sugiyama adheres to formula more closely than before, he also manages to execute it better than almost any other game composer. His compositions had always highlighted their creator’s inspiration through Western classical music – take Dragon Quest IV’s ending theme. But with the Dragon Quest VI soundtrack, Sugiyama writes his most classically-minded score so far – maybe a result of being more familiar with the SPC sound chip’s capabilities. These are pieces that are reluctant to deliver hummable melodies or rhythm hooks. Instead, compositions unfold slowly and patiently, with melody lines that are longer and more complex than what’s usually found on orchestral game soundtracks. The cues on the Dragon Quest VI soundtrack don’t feel so much like underscore for a particular scene, but more like pieces that develop according to their own purely musical logic.

The best example of Sugiyama’s symphonically-inspired approach is “Eternal Lullaby”, this soundtrack’s ending theme. Compare it to a closing track like Final Fantasy VI’s “Ending Theme”, which for nearly 22 minutes flits from one theme to the next, seamlessly underscoring whatever action is taking place during the mammoth closing scene. “Eternal Lullaby” does almost the opposite. Sugiyama carefully develops and varies one single theme, exploring its various emotional shades – until the stage has been set for a monumental reprise of the theme that concludes the soundtrack on a sufficiently grand note. In short, game scores rarely mine the peerless – if maybe initially elusive – richness of classical music more successfully than the Dragon Quest VI soundtrack. As a result, a composition like “Ocean Waves” plays like a ravishing miniature tone poem.

And while the template that Sugiyama works with is very familiar by now, that’s not to say this score is bereft of surprises. Sugiyama’s dungeon tracks are unexpectedly jagged and disjointed – easily the most experimental music he has written so far for the franchise. “Frightening Dungeon” is downright creepy, full of wild instrumental lines and an eerie woodwind lead that almost leads the piece into the abstract realm of avant-garde classical music. It’s a far cry from Sugiyama’s usually late-romantic inspirations. Still, he manages to write a piece that keeps listeners wondering with bated breath where the music heads next, as stinging musical fragments swirl through the darkness, disappearing again as quickly as they emerged. Other dungeon tracks like “Dungeons” and “Last Dungeon” manage to mix this sense of dread with a greater degree of melodicism, building captivating tension between the competing emotional tones.

Where the Dragon Quest VI soundtrack really turns heads is with its battle tracks. No matter how strong on average, previous Dragon Quest scores had cemented Sugiyama’s reputation for writing underwhelming battle themes. Either they just plain lacked urgency and power, or their bombastic tones covered up thin material. And suddenly, Sugiyama composes four battle tracks that pulse with unbridled energy and incessantly propulsive rhythms. These power massive brass outbursts and intricate interplays between instrument groups – now there is far more counterpoint and melodic material on these cues than on any previous DQ action track. Dynamics are equally varied – take the sudden, extended flute lead on “Brave Fight” or “Monsters”’ surprising mix of jaunty and menacing tones. All of a sudden, there’s a rousing, fierce drama to the Dragon Quest VI soundtrack that previous franchise scores couldn’t muster – another reason why this might be the best score of the entire series.

01 - In the Town Sugiyama, Koichi 2:38
02 - Happy Humming Sugiyama, Koichi 2:55
03 - Folk Dance Sugiyama, Koichi 1:37
04 - Inviting Village Sugiyama, Koichi 4:49
05 - Through the Fields Sugiyama, Koichi 3:37
06 - Another World Sugiyama, Koichi 2:28
07 - Saint's Wreath Sugiyama, Koichi 3:47
08 - Ocean Waves Sugiyama, Koichi 5:07
09 - Dungeons Sugiyama, Koichi 3:55
10 - Frightening Dungeon Sugiyama, Koichi 2:58
11 - Satan's Castle Sugiyama, Koichi 2:35
12 - Last Dungeon Sugiyama, Koichi 3:36
13 - Ocarina - Saint Sugiyama, Koichi 3:21
14 - Pegasus Sugiyama, Koichi 5:23
15 - Courageous Fight Sugiyama, Koichi 2:43
16 - Brave Fight Sugiyama, Koichi 2:35
17 - Monsters Sugiyama, Koichi 3:36
18 - Demon Combat Sugiyama, Koichi 3:19
19 - Eternal Lullaby Sugiyama, Koichi 6:46

Extreme Bike Trip Soundtrack

Extreme Bike Trip Soundtrack, Big Giant Circles, 2013

Extreme Bike Trip – both game and soundtrack – are a product of the era of digital technologies. Both are short, sharp blasts of fun that precisely know their purpose. Before the dawn of digital distribution channels, it’s unlikely they would have seen the light of day as standalone releases. They also never pretend to be more than what they are – but within their limited scope of ambition, they achieve everything they’re aiming for.

As a game, Extreme Bike Trip is based on an exceedingly simple mechanic. Race with your bike from left to right, tilt your bike forwards and backwards to not lose balance, and pick up gas canisters to make it as far into the race course as possible. Review site 148Apps nicely summed the game up as “simply a fun way to spend a few minutes”.

That’s also the perfect description for the Extreme Bike Trip soundtrack, courtesy of Big Giant Circles (aka Jimmy Hinson). His work on this score continued his collaboration with developer Roofdog Games. Hinson had previously worked with them on Pocket Mine and the Extreme Road Trip franchise. Of course, Hinson had been active in the game music scene long before. He had started out in 2004 as a contributor to game music remix website OCRemix. In 2009, Jack Wall recruited Hinson to contribute music to blockbuster title Mass Effect 2 – most definitely a high-profile debut for a former game music hobbyist. While Hinson is one of the few indie game composers to have also worked on AAA titles, the majority of his output underscores smaller-scale games such as Extreme Bike Trip.

The crackling chiptunes dance pop that he fills the Extreme Bike Trip soundtrack with shares the game’s virtues. Ignoring some short filler tracks, Extreme Bike Trip clocks in at just over ten minutes. However, its music does all it can to make these few minutes an experience jam-packed with fun. Of course, Hinson’s trademark musical style combining chiptunes with contemporary electronics is the perfect sound for a retro racing game.

Stylistically, the Extreme Bike Trip soundtrack continues and refines Hinson’s work on Extreme Road Trip 2. Vigorous dance beats underpin exuberant chiptunes melodies, with the odd hard rock riff thrown in for good measure. With no time to lose, “Extreme Bike Trip Theme (In The Zone reprise)” gets the blood pumping straight away. It quickly marries modern electronic rhythms with a chiptunes melody drunk on endorphines. With its unpredictable arpeggio progressions, the melody feels like it can hardly contain its giddy enthusiasm. The track’s second melodic idea is a more focused creation, keeping its sights firmly on the finishing line.

“Kinetic Jumps” amplifies this adrenaline-charged happy-go-lucky feeling. Here the Extreme Bike Trip soundtrack makes its clearest reference to 1990s four-on-the-floor techno. Against a bed of crashing, bouncy techno beats and claps, Hinson pits soaring chiptunes pop melodies. In this rhythm-heavy environment, the melodies take on an anthemic, instantly head-bopping quality that serves the music’s purpose: to give gamers both a rush of excitement and the heroic feeling that they are able to keep control of their vehicle at ever higher speeds. Both fun and triumphant, “Kinetic Jumps” cleverly calms down during its last third before revving up again for the loop. And while Extreme Bike Trip might not be a ‘big’ game, its music never feels less than lushly arranged. Sample the range of arpeggios that Hinson uses to flesh out the soundscape at the treble end on “Kinetic Jumps”.

Finally, “Pop A Wheelie” boasts the Extreme Bike Trip soundtrack’s most intricate and rewarding arrangements. Now, the beats move away from straightforward techno. Instead, they follow a knotty, intriguing trajectory mirrored by an elastic, bassy synth melody. The break beats’ increased complexity finds its match in “Pop A Wheelie”’s greater melodic range, covering a soaring guitar solo as well as a rhythmically accented chiptune melody that puts emphasises every single one of its staccato notes, as if to really hammer home how powerful and awesome it is.

All this is mere preparation for the track’s unstoppable finale though. At 3:35, “Pop A Wheelie” breaks into the album’s most stunning moment. Hinson piles layer upon layer of ecstatic, wobbling melodies and synths sky-high like there’s no tomorrow, reaching higher and higher until the music turns into a small super nova of blissfully united electro and chiptunes colours. The Extreme Bike Trip soundtrack finishes soon after it begins, but it sure does end with a bang.

01 - Extreme Bike Trip Theme (In The Zone reprise) Big Giant Circles 2:06
02 - Kinetic Jumps Big Giant Circles 4:11
03 - Pop a Wheelie Big Giant Circles 4:33

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

Little Orpheus Soundtrack

Little Orpheus Soundtrack, Jessica Curry / Jim Fowler, 2020

Everybody’s Gone to the Rapture had been another commercial and critical success for The Chinese Room, but the following years saw the company going through a rough patch. Thankfully, after having to lay off all staff in 2017, directors Dan Pinchbeck and Jessica Curry bounced back soon enough when Sumo Digital acquired The Chinese Room, leading to 2020’s Little Orpheus. An Apple Arcade exclusive, Little Orpheus received acclaim for its substantial gameplay, outstanding presentation and original concept. The game follows Ivan Ivanovich’s adventures, tasked in 1962 with travelling inside the earth’s supposedly hollow interior to confirm whether it is fit for colonisation. After Ivan returns from his mission three years later, a tough-as-nails general interrogates him about what happened during his absence – and tries to figure out whether the fantastical tales of Ivan’s adventures could possibly be true.

As with other titles by The Chinese Room, Little Orpheus was a high-concept piece, channelling several influences and ideas. As such, it required a soundtrack that thoughtfully supported the game’s aesthetics and narrative. Jessica Curry had delivered these kinds of scores for several previous Chinese Room games. In the process, she had emerged as one of video game music’s leading composers through her impressively subtle and emotionally rewarding Dear Esther and Everybody’s Gone to the Rapture soundtracks – the latter deservedly netting her a BAFTA Award. After those games’ meditations on life and death, the Little Orpheus soundtrack was an opportunity for Curry to dabble in more colourful and brighter moods, with the game taking inspiration from Saturday morning B-Movie serials and classic adventure movies like Flash Gordon, Sinbad and The Land that Time Forgot.

For the first time, a co-composer joined Curry: Jim Fowler. While not exactly a household name, Fowler’s career in video game music reaches back to 2004 when his involvement with the long-running SingStar franchise began. Following this, Fowler worked for Sony’s Worldwide Studios, balancing work as composer and orchestrator on several projects – the best-known one being the LittleBigPlanet franchise. Notably, in 2015, he orchestrated Curry’s Everybody’s Gone to the Rapture. After mainly focusing on music production and orchestration following that project, recent years saw him working more regularly again in a composing capacity. And based on the quality of his work on Little Orpheus, one can only hope Fowler continues along this trajectory.

Indeed, the Little Orpheus soundtrack emerges as a serious contender for best orchestral game score of 2020, even though its approach might come as a bit of a surprise – at least if one has read the pre-release material. In his liner notes, Pinchbeck describes the soundtrack as a mix between Disney and Shostakovich. But while you would expect Russian orchestral music to impact a game like Little Orpheus, not a lot of the melodies and orchestrations feel particularly Russian. It’s also hard to find much of Shostakovich’s fairly clearly delineated melodies and acerbic wit or despair on Little Orpheus.

Keeping in mind Little Orpheus’ pulpy inspirations, one might also expect a score full of swashbuckling bravado and rousing melodies. However, that’s not what Curry and Fowler deliver here either. Action-packed moments are only dished out during the album’s shorter cues, which don’t feel as substantial as the soundtrack’s more expansive pieces (“Stealing Eggs”’ charmingly puckish mood comes off best). Curry and Fowler’s work is altogether more elusive, but maybe also more intriguing for it. The composers build not so much on film music inspirations but rather on impressionistic early 20th-century classical music whose extensive chromaticism sees tonality beginning to dissolve. Take “The Jungles of Plutonia”, the album’s first extended composition. The piece doesn’t necessarily have a strong sense of development. Still, its exceedingly creative orchestrations and harmonies create a palpable sense of hushed uncertainty and wonder, mixed with hints of playfulness.

This is music that is far more sophisticated than your average orchestral game score, such is Curry and Fowler’s superlative command of the ensemble’s tone colours and expressive capacities. Like exquisite watercolour paintings coming alive to constantly change their outlines, orchestrations morph from one fascinating mix of emotions to the next. Meanwhile, melodies are present but slippery, rarely coalescing into something approaching a hummable tune. Then, there’s the composers’ extensive use of counterpoint and a demo-quality recording that presents the manifold layers of the compositions with vivid clarity, usually giving listeners more than one instrumental line to focus on. The result is a work whose cornucopia of steadily changing expressions can make for a heady, initially disorienting experience.

But ultimately, what better way to underscore the story of a seemingly unreliable narrator who apparently makes up fantastical stories as he goes along – just like the music keeps reinventing its instrumental material and constellations, at times hard to grasp but touching nonetheless. Yes, underneath all the virtuoso orchestrations and shifting moods lies the Little Orpheus soundtrack’s emotional centre, and it is anything but hollow. Soon enough, the score’s melodic riches become apparent. Sometimes they appear unexpectedly, for example when “Enslaving the Menkv” – after oscillating between nostalgia and tense anticipation – segues into a gloriously impassioned string climax. “An Impoverished Childhood in Omsk” straightaway opens with the same kind of material, while “A Strangely Beautiful Place” and “The Icy Lands of Sannikov” pit their more delicate melodies against unstable, swelling and ebbing orchestral backdrops that threaten to wash away the melody lead.

Such elegant melodic beauty is crucial to what Curry and Fowler are looking to achieve with the Little Orpheus soundtrack. As they stated in interviews, “the music had to be vast and expansive” to reflect the outrageous scale of Ivan’s stories, “but at the same time, it comes from one little person.” And indeed, while the score performs a marvellous feat of building a fantasy world all of its own, it constantly balances its scale with a cheerful spirit and melodic grace that endears us to the common, brave man living through all these tales – Ivan.

For example, take note of the passages for harp, glockenspiel and solo violin featuring prominently on pieces like “Comrade Privalov, Interiornaut!”, “And It Happened Like This”, and “Agartha And Other Wonders”. These instruments imbue the music with the feel of a child’s tale, both knowing and naive at the same time (Curry and Fowler never play the game’s story for laughs or approach it from a parody angle). Out of several compositions achieving this balancing act, “Agartha and Other Wonders” does a particularly great job at combining an otherworldly sense of awe with touches of spirited whimsy. Like so much else on the Little Orpheus soundtrack, it’s a testament to the composers’ light yet assured touch, yielding a masterful result.

01 - The Jungles of Plutonia Curry, Jessica / Fowler, Jim 3:34
02 - Toll's March Curry, Jessica / Fowler, Jim 2:26
03 - Comrade Privalov, Interiornaut! Curry, Jessica / Fowler, Jim 2:05
04 - Ivan and the Whale Curry, Jessica / Fowler, Jim 1:55
05 - Enslaving the Menkv Curry, Jessica / Fowler, Jim 5:16
06 - Agartha and Other Wonders Curry, Jessica / Fowler, Jim 4:09
07 - A Strangely Beautiful Place Curry, Jessica / Fowler, Jim 3:14
08 - And It Happened Like This Curry, Jessica / Fowler, Jim 3:52
09 - The Icy Lands of Sannikov Curry, Jessica / Fowler, Jim 3:18
10 - The Forgotten Waves Curry, Jessica / Fowler, Jim 2:37
11 - Stealing Eggs Curry, Jessica / Fowler, Jim 2:32
12 - The Prophecies of Lemuria Curry, Jessica / Fowler, Jim 5:09
13 - An Impoverished Childhood in Omsk Curry, Jessica / Fowler, Jim 1:44
14 - The World Clock Curry, Jessica / Fowler, Jim 2:34
15 - The Hunt for the Little Orpheus Curry, Jessica / Fowler, Jim 1:34
16 - Ivan Returns Curry, Jessica / Fowler, Jim 0:46

Pocket Mine Soundtrack

Pocket Mine Soundtrack, Big Giant Circles, 2013

As much fun as it can be to analyse a piece of music, drill down into what things make it work or not, explore its sources of inspiration and so forth, there’s also the simple joy of getting caught up in a song that is just so irresistibly fun that all critical thinking takes a backseat for a moment. Big Giant Circle’s Pocket Mine soundtrack delivers precisely that sort of feeling with the aptly titled “That Diamond Smile”. The track also perfectly demonstrates how this soundtrack manages to draw upon the strengths derived from its 8-bit influences and enhances them by mixing in contemporary elements.

All that “That Diamond Smile” requires for success is the catchy little chiptunes ditty that opens the track. In what feels like the blink of an eye, things escalate, harmonies start building up, the tempo increases and what we then hear is a much broader, full-bodied rendition of the initial tune on soaring chiptunes synths. Suddenly, it’s one of the most memorable, joyful melodies ever written for a retro video game. Throughout the cue, the melody pushes higher and higher, until it returns for one final, fantastically joyful appearance. The insidiously catchy tune is a testament to Big Giant Circles’ (aka Jimmy Hinson) stature as a master tune smith.

What’s equally beyond doubt is Hinson’s ability to structure and arrange his tracks for maximum impact. The melodies that Hinson fits in between appearances of his lead tune are anything but B side material and together with the lushly arranged beats and arpeggios, they saturate “That Diamond Smile” in boundless fun. What it all adds up to is simply perfect chiptunes pop.

It’s hard to imagine music that inspires gamers more emphatically to have just one more go at that level, one more try to break their high score. As such, it’s the perfect accompaniment for Pocket Mine (the game). After all, it’s one of those mobile games using one simple gameplay idea to create an accessible, focused gameplay experience. Dig as deep as you can before your pick breaks, collect items to upgrade your digging tool – and start again. Like for developer Roofdog Games’ other 2013 title Extreme Bike Trip, Hinson writes the sort of music that keeps players on their toes and energised all the way through the game, honoring the gameplay’s arcadey nature and retro inspiration.

Given Pocket Mine’s limited scope, its surprising how much of a cohesive arc its score album creates. “Pocket Mine Menu” opens the Pocket Mine soundtrack with an infectiously carefree, strutting rhythm, coupled with a charming chiptunes melody straight out of a late-era Game Boy platformer. The entertaining groove is happy to go nowhere in particular, but still looks forward to the adventure ahead. It’s obvious that “Pocket Mine Menu” keeps the Pocket Mine soundtrack in a holding pattern – but it makes that spot an entertaining place to be in.

After that, things quickly take off to the skies with “That Diamond Smile”, but where to go from there? “Inverted Vertigo” finds a good answer. Largely shedding Pocket Mine’s chiptunes influences, its assortment of electronics is grittier than what other tracks deliver. More urgent than the rest of the soundtrack, “Inverted Vertigo” is happy to undercut its initially ascending melody with dissonant chords that bring the music’s enthusiasm tumbling down to the ground. Things are turning serious and the game over screen beckons, but then cascading silvery arpeggios begin to rain down. They lead “Inverted Vertigo” to an exhilaratingly busy close that pushes gamers onwards. Whether it rushes them towards success or failure is up to the player.

Then it’s time for the Pocket Mine soundtrack to wind down. “What’s Pocket Mine Is Pocket Yours” is far more relaxed than previous tracks, with a laid-back high score screen-feel. Once more, a simple but deliciously addictive pop melody rendered on chiptunes instruments leads the way. For a change, rhythmic backing now comes mainly from a rock drum kit as opposed to electronic beats. The lead melody feels a bit wistful, ready to to wave goodbye. But as on “That Diamond Smile”, the tune keeps building until it gets to go out on an exuberant high.

In contrast to this easy-going atmosphere stands album closer “Tally Up the Loot”. Heavy synth bass chords dominate a decidedly electronic soundscape with more head-nodding rhythms than “What’s Pocket Mine Is Pocket Yours”. “Tally Up the Loot” is the album’s least melodically involving track, but that’s a relative measure of course. The Pocket Mine soundtrack has one big smash single, but it’s also much more than a one-hit wonder.

01 - Pocket Mine Menu Big Giant Circles 3:26
02 - That Diamond Smile Big Giant Circle 4:25
03 - Inverted Vertigo Big Giant Circles 3:28
04 - What's Pocket Mine Is Pocket Yours Big Giant Circles 4:00
05 - Tally Up the Loot Big Giant Circles 3:55