RPG Archives - Page 2 of 3 - The Greatest Game Music

Hero Quest Soundtrack (NES)

Hero Quest Soundtrack (NES), Neil Baldwin, 1991

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Homeland Soundtrack

Homeland Soundtrack, Hayato Matsuo, 2005

Nintendo’s GameCube wasn’t blessed with a vast number of system exclusives – and what made the situation even more frustrating was that many games were only released in specific territories (out of the nearly 650 GameCube titles, only 281 ended up on store shelves in Japan!) As a result, there’s not a huge number of hidden GameCube treasures waiting to be unearthed – but those that do exist can be particularly obscure and little-known. Case in point: Homeland, an online RPG by Dragon Quest developer Chunsoft, was only released in Japan. It proved innovative in several ways – one of only four online games for the system, it was the only GameCube title where the console acted as a server. And instead of allowing parties of just four (like the GameCube’s Phantasy Star Online), Homeland let players band together in groups of up to 36!

Looking at the game’s simple, if charmingly naive visuals, it’s not difficult to understand why Homeland didn’t leave Japanese shores, considering it was released only a year before the next console generation hit the market. Consequently, most gamers missed out on Homeland’s delightful soundtrack by Hayato Matsuo. Considering that Matsuo had started his career under Dragon Quest composer Koichi Sugiyama’s tutelage and that by 2005, he had composed the scores for several of Chunsoft’s Shiren the Wanderer games, it was no big surprise to see him tackle Homeland as well.

For the Homeland soundtrack, Matsuo composed just over two hours of material (looped), covering the broad spectrum of moods and emotions one would expect from an RPG score. However, Matsuo’s work isn’t consistently strong across the soundtrack. The compositions that easily stand out the most – and ultimately warrant the game’s inclusion on this site – are the score’s most carefree and easy-going pieces, which make up about 35 minutes of Matsuo’s compositions for Homeland. “Title” encapsulates the spell that these pieces weave with sparkling effortlessness. Opening with lively castanets and piano, the track introduces a spirited melody is passed on to solo violin and then to a sprightly acoustic guitar. Matsuo works with small, intimate ensembles here and elsewhere, but thanks to his orchestrational skills, he derives a beautiful richness of sun-kissed colours from his instrument combinations.

“Title” is the Homeland soundtrack – or rather its most substantial portions – in a nut-shell. These are compositions that only occasionally pass the two-minute mark when looped and don’t aspire to make any grand statements or generate profound insights. Instead, Homeland charms like few other game soundtracks with delightful tunefulness and fresh instrumental colours, energised by a fair amount of melodic counterpoint and bustling activity. This is relaxed feel-good music of the best possible kind, crafted with immense care to detail while never displaying an ounce of overt effort. In some ways, Matsuo’s work here harkens back to his work during the 16-bit era, when game music compositions tended to get to the point (melodically speaking) without delay.

And so Matsuo generates a string of blithe pleasantries that vary in their approach, but never break the Homeland soundtrack’s graceful spell, bolstered by the composer’s skilful mix of folk and pop influences in his enchanting melodies. “Kaneltown” is a beautiful example of Matsuo’s ability to create tasteful, unobtrusive instrumentations – adding a subtle touch of Caribbean influences by incorporating steel drums and later layering three acoustic guitars on top of each other to achieve a rich yet light tone. “Ilmina” integrates aspiring brass chords into the nimble orchestrations without unduly weighing down the music, as the instruments’ heavier timbres organically contrast with the jovial flute ostinato underneath. “Polka Forest” has shades of bossa nova in its more complex, unusually long-spun flute melody, while “Polkatown” moves listeners with its fragile, tender flute harmonisations.

It’s no surprise that a track like “Event Epilogue” closes proceedings with light dance rhythms and some of the score’s most optimistic melodies. Not all pieces have as much of a spring in their step though – instead, they’re happy to lean back and soak in the game’s joyful world. These tracks often feel earthier and more rustic than their livelier counterparts. Take “Croats”, with its pensive acoustic guitar line and nostalgic harmonica backing, carried by its simple melodic pleasures. On “Kiro”, it’s two accordions placed against gently swelling and ebbing violins that conjure up the music’s warmly welcoming mood. Still, the accordions also produce some passingly chromatic harmonies to prevent the cue from slipping into drowsy contentedness. And while much of the soundtrack feels like it’s bathed in the balmy glow of autumnal sunlight, “Valktown” and the yearning tone of its intertwining woodwind melodies seem to announce night falling.

The Homeland soundtrack is less successful when it travels into less idyllic terrain – but there are still a few tracks that tweak the score’s cheerful disposition carefully and in intriguing ways. Out of the many dungeon tracks, “Dungeon Kousyo” and “Tetunagi Dungeon” manage to incorporate other pieces’ melodic interests. “Dungeon Kousyo” does so by setting a chromatic flute ostinato against a dulcimer and a strange whining background noise, before having fun with playful chromatic woodwind harmonies. Here and on “Tetunagi Dungeon”, melodies are terser and more repetitive, with a sense of urgency and tension that is a welcome change of pace. On both “Tetunagi Dungeon” and the hushed, mysterious “Field 2”, Matsuo also cleverly adds synths to the acoustic ensemble, contrasting the score’s usually earthy tones. The Homeland soundtrack may require some curating, but it offers a short album’s worth of delectable pleasures once that work is complete.

01 - Title Matsuo, Hayato 2:16
02 - Croats Matsuo, Hayato 2:19
03 - Field 1 Matsuo, Hayato 2:09
04 - Kaneltown Matsuo, Hayato 2:11
05 - Dungeon Kousyo Matsuo, Hayato 2:15
06 - Ilmina Matsuo, Hayato 2:15
07 - Kiro Matsuo, Hayato 1:53
08 - Apricant Matsuo, Hayato 2:03
09 - Field 2 Matsuo, Hayato 2:15
10 - Valktown Matsuo, Hayato 1:45
11 - Eggshelltown Matsuo, Hayato 1:47
12 - Event Epilogue Matsuo, Hayato 2:08
13 - Field 3 Matsuo, Hayato 1:54
14 - Polkatown Matsuo, Hayato 1:54
15 - Polka Forest Matsuo, Hayato 2:00
16 - Tetunagi Dungeon Matsuo, Hayato 2:16
17 - Tetunagi Town (Softly) Matsuo, Hayato 2:28

Legend of Mana Soundtrack

Legend of Mana Soundtrack, Yoko Shimomura, 1999

While the 32-bit generation saw a seismic shift in gameplay and graphics design from 2d to 3d, that didn’t mean nobody created pixel art masterpieces during those years. And given how much Square’s 16-bit games had pushed the envelope in the early 1990s, it only makes sense that the company would occasionally return to the art style that had endeared its products to countless gamers. Square’s major forays into 2d gaming on the PS1 were SaGa Frontier 2 and Legend of Mana – and it’s probably no coincidence that Square veteran Akitoshi Kawazu produced both games. That probably also explains the non-linear style of RPG gameplay both games tried to pioneer. However, while the lack of a robust central narrative was typical for the SaGa games, it set Legend of Mana apart from its franchise predecessors, reaping strongly divided feedback from gamers and reviewers alike.

However, some aspects of Legend of Mana found unanimous praise – particularly its audiovisual presentation, which included gorgeous visuals and one of Yoko Shimomura’s best scores. For Shimomura, working on the Legend of Mana soundtrack was a thoroughly positive experience. One of Shimomura’s reasons to move from Capcom to Square had been her desire to work on a fantasy title – and of course, Square’s line-up of high-profile RPGs would be the perfect outlet for that ambition. As Shimomura put it in an interview: “I kept saying I wanted to work on a fantasy and this title finally came around. I really had fun with it. I tried hard to make it fit the style of the game and to express myself!!”

Of course, by taking on composing duties for the Mana franchise’s latest instalment, Shimomura had big shoes to fill. Hiroki Kikuta’s Secret of Mana score remains one of the all-time great RPG soundtracks and had created an idiosyncratic, yet accessible signature sound for the franchise that set it apart from the competition. Shimomura’s Legend of Mana soundtrack doesn’t innovate in the same way as Kikuta did. Instead, the immensely colourful style she concocts on this album is squarely rooted in late-romantic orchestral music (with generous helpings of metal and bits of electronica and pop music).

In that regard, Shimomura’s approach lands Legend of Mana closer to JRPG conventions, but that doesn’t mean she deserts the Mana franchise’s established musical character. Instead, she expresses the same characteristics through somewhat more conventional means. Take the album’s opening salvo of “Nostalgic Song”, “Place of Soul”, and “Hometown Domina”. They are all led by idyllic, calm woodwind melodies that couldn’t be more welcoming, animated by gently driving orchestral rhythms and clad in lush instrumentations. Again, those earthy, heart-warming melodies – with their folk-inspired gentle lilt – aren’t as creative as Kikuta’s unexpectedly modulating tunes. However, they are just as lyrical, with a charm that is impossible to resist. Indeed, in Shimomura’s hands, the world of Mana remains a realm of bucolic natural beauty and wonder. Shimomura is aptly supported by some of the best sound synthesis on the PS1, using crisp, life-like samples that convey her compositions’ rich emotions.

The Legend of Mana soundtrack’s charm persists throughout the entire work, but Shimomura manages to express it in various ways. Her knack for sumptuous orchestrations and delightful melodies – established right at the start of the soundtrack – culminates on “City of Flickering Destruction” and “Those Who are Shining”. Both compositions – sequenced near the end of the soundtrack – use chamber music-sized orchestrations and gorgeous solo instrument writing to present their radiant, yearning melodies. Particularly “Those Who are Shining” feels like a natural extension of the soundtrack’s opening mood – reprising its optimism, but also giving it an elusive, profound quality through the use of choir voices and application of echo to the lead instruments. As the final showdown approaches, the game’s world hasn’t changed entirely, but the stakes have no doubt been raised.

Like Kikuta, Shimomura manages to effortlessly combine the whimsical with the ethereal. The latter element leads Shimomura to essay some of her most intriguing and experimental compositions. “Moonlight City Roa” most obviously evokes Secret of Mana’s mysticism, mixing that score’s Gamelan percussion with Legend of Mana’s more orchestral slant through an emotive solo cello accompaniment. “Missing Truth”‘s serene, somewhat ritualistic flute melody is pitted against a background of various gongs and other expertly layered rhythm instruments (and a sitar), turning the cue into a peacefully mesmerising experience. Most intriguing is “The Other Truth” and its fleeting woodwind fragments floating by in the thick, hazy summer atmosphere. Shimomura’s light-handed approach is as apparent here as it is on humorous compositions like “Cliff Town Gato”, “Southern City Polpota”, and “Mystic City Geo”, with their boisterous percussion and tongue-in-cheek transitions from booming, lively bombast to quieter passages.

One of the significant differences between the Legend of Mana soundtrack and Secret of Mana is how the former feels significantly heavier. That’s partially due to Shimomura’s use of more orchestral sounds, but there are other factors at play too. Shimomura deploys percussion far more often than Kikuta did. On “Wanderer’s Path” and “Earth Painting”, she combines yet more rhapsodic woodwind leads with constantly busy snare drums and staccato strings, successfully fusing fantasy and action scoring templates. More spectacular still are a series of marches sequenced towards the end of the soundtrack, again suitably preparing for the grand finale. In Shimomura’s hands, “The Excitement of Both of Us”, “Complicated Destiny” and “The One Who Waits for the Breath of Destiny” balance martial determination with the soundtrack’s trademark sweeping melodies and emotional nuance – witness “The Excitement of Both of Us”‘ struggling, yet valiantly persisting melody lead.

Speaking of heavier tones, Shimomura mentioned in interviews that she was surprised to be asked to write heavy metal compositions for the Legend of Mana soundtrack’s boss battles. It’s a musical style that Shimomura absolutely nails here. “Pain the Universe” and “The Darkness Nova” cleverly arrange their triple-guitar onslaughts to create escalating thunderstorms backing up some borderline cheesy, yet irresistibly catchy and triumphant keyboard melodies. These are easily some of the 32-bit era’s best metal compositions outside of the Guilty Gear franchise.

For final boss track “Silence of Time”, Shimomura reaches again back to heavy guitar sounds but, interestingly enough, eschews obvious theatrics. Instead, she combines churning, slow riffs, pounding timpani, a dispassionately relentless organ motif and an eerie, chromatic percussion line dancing atop the cosmic furnace underneath. Oozing the evil spirit of a dark planet mercilessly charting its course across the blackened sky, “Silence of Time” doesn’t reinvent the wheel – but like the Legend of Mana soundtrack itself, it uses traditional elements to create something memorable and individual. This is a prime example of a traditional JRPG score done right, with tons of creativity and panache.

01 - Nostalgic Song Shimomura, Yoko 3:32
02 - Places of Soul Shimomura, Yoko 1:32
03 - Hometown Domina Shimomura, Yoko 2:43
04 - Wanderer's Path Shimomura, Yoko 4:32
05 - Pain the Universe Shimomura, Yoko 3:20
06 - Cliff Town Gato Shimomura, Yoko 2:51
07 - Earth Painting Shimomura, Yoko 4:26
08 - Moonlight City Roa Shimomura, Yoko 2:10
09 - Everyday Dream - Spirit's Song Shimomura, Yoko 2:30
10 - Southern City Polpota Shimomura, Yoko 2:22
11 - Mystic City Geo Shimomura, Yoko 2:34
12 - Memory of Running Shimomura, Yoko 2:01
13 - The Darkness Nova Shimomura, Yoko 4:19
14 - Pastoral Shimomura, Yoko 1:42
15 - Missing Truth Shimomura, Yoko 3:05
16 - The Excitement of Both of Us Shimomura, Yoko 3:47
17 - The Other Truth Shimomura, Yoko 2:15
18 - Complicated Destiny Shimomura, Yoko 3:50
19 - The One Who Waits for the Breath of Destiny Shimomura, Yoko 3:07
20 - Depression Blues Shimomura, Yoko 2:34
21 - City of Flickering Destruction Shimomura, Yoko 3:22
22 - Foolish Decision Shimomura, Yoko 3:39
23 - Those Who are Shining Shimomura, Yoko 3:06
24 - The Great Virtue of Gathering Mana's Spirit Shimomura, Yoko 2:12
25 - Silence of Time Shimomura, Yoko 4:18
26 - Nostalgic Song - Ending Theme of Mana's Story Shimomura, Yoko 1:33
27 - Song of Mana - Ending Theme Shimomura, Yoko 5:59

Loop Hero Soundtrack

Loop Hero Soundtrack, Aleksandr Goreslavets, 2021

2021’s first indie game smash hit was undoubtedly Loop Hero. First presented at the 2019 Ludum Dare Jam, Loop Hero was nurtured by Russian development team Four Quarters into an engrossing exercise in world-building whose gameplay was as repetitive as it was addictive. Based on a simple idea – the protagonist completes the same loop over and over again, even without player input – Loop Hero folds unusual elements into its rogue-like structure. For example, players can change each loop’s outcome by placing cards onto the game board. And this is where Loop Hero’s narrative ambitions come into play. The game’s post-apocalyptic setting sees players rebuilding a vanished world, one card at a time – its protagonist the only survivor to remember the universe the way it was before its downfall.

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Might and Magic VII: For Blood and Honor Soundtrack

Might and Magic VII: For Blood and Honor Soundtrack, Paul Romero, 1999

By the time of Might and Magic VII: For Blood and Honor‘s release, Paul Romero and Rob King had firmly installed themselves as the Might and Magic franchise’s go-to composers, thanks to Heroes of Might and Magic and its exceedingly ambitious sequel. They had also written the music for Might and Magic VI: The Mandate of Heaven. That score was a curious if not entirely successful hybrid of fantasy and science fiction elements.

The Might and Magic VII: For Blood and Honor soundtrack continues this inclination for experimentation and eclecticism. It turns out to be the best Might and Magic score (excluding Heroes I-III). Interestingly, Might and Magic VII ran on its predecessor’s engine and didn’t make many changes to the gameplay formula. For Blood and Honor‘s music, on the other hand, is a quantum leap over The Mandate of Heaven. In fact, in its seductive lushness, Romero’s score almost feels like a mismatch for the game’s blocky 3d graphics.

Music as sensual as the Might and Magic VII: For Blood and Honor soundtrack lends itself to descriptions via imagery. To borrow a track title from Chance Thomas’ Quest for Glory V: Dragon Fire, labelling For Blood and Honor a dance of mystery and intrigue does a good job at summing up the music’s particular and irresistible appeal. Following Romero down the dimly-lit maze that is this score does feel like a journey. It’s a trip through a demiworld of lights flickering on the decadently gold-encrusted walls of an ancient underground temple. Everything is cast in flitting half shadows – and then seemingly out of nowhere, blinding white light fills the halls and grants visions of a strange, great beyond.

Indeed, For Blood and Honor fuses two very different moods into a coherent whole. What stylistically unites the album is the sense that Romero casts it all as one big expression of otherworldliness. There’s a real sense that this is adventurous music underscoring unknown realms, creating a unique musical world in the process. Arguably, For Blood and Honor is a more original work than Romero and King’s Heroes of Might and Magic scores.

What will initially strike listeners most about For Blood and Honor is how glowingly seductive it sounds. As his foundation, Romero uses luxurious string textures and decadently chromatic melodies. Within this stylistic framework, he fuses the sensibilities of tonal early 20^th-century classical music with middle-eastern scales, waltz rhythms, tasteful hand percussion and drum kit inserts, and an occasional serve of electronica. The result is a heady brew that’s in equal parts mysterious and bewitching. Throughout its running time, For Blood and Honor bathes listeners in the elusive, golden glow of its compositions. In their chamber music-like orchestrations and surprising intimacy, these pieces play like a more luscious version of Secret of Evermore.

Amongst other things, it was the first three Heroes of Might and Magic scores’ gorgeous melodies that made these works stand out. Thankfully, Romero brings the same instinct for delectable tunes to the Might and Magic VII: For Blood and Honor soundtrack. True, his melodies here are more repetitive, but this only adds to the music’s hypnotic spell.

On this foundation, Romero builds a colourful construct that’s impressive in its versatility. For example, acoustic guitar and wordless, siren-like solo soprano lines join the orchestra on “Bracada Desert, Deyja”. The score’s beguiling rhythmic lilt intensifies with the inclusion of the light drum kit and hand percussion sounds. And the chromaticism of the melodies isn’t limited to the strings, but also extends to the woodwind soli. They often turn out to be mischievous, cunning creatures that destabilise the harmonic structure of a piece just enough to make the listener wonder where the composition might be headed next. Take “Tularean Forest” and its cheeky woodwind melodies. They interfere with the soft waltz rhythms and wild, jagged string figures, keeping the piece’s atmosphere fascinatingly ambivalent.

But at times, Blood and Honor‘s shadows retreat and allow for a surprisingly eerie vision of yet another world. That realm is brighter and more distant, gleaming with choir vocals and electronic sounds. What makes this music so fascinating though is that it’s too uncanny to be an elating image of celestial fields. Just listen to “Light Theme (Celeste, Castle Lambent)”, where tinkling and swooshing sound effects open up a vast spectral space that is filled with the electronically manipulated sound of a male choir and deep string chords. A soaring violin solo and glistening string textures complete this ethereal, yet slightly surreal soundscape. It all creates an unearthly atmosphere of impressive emotional fervour that contrasts with the soundtrack’s usually dark-hued atmosphere.

“Emerald Island” ends For Blood and Honor on a tentalisingly open, perfectly judged note. With its nervy string jabs and agitated melodies, it hints at answers and allows glimpses. Ultimately though, the composition retreats from view to preserve its mysteries, still hidden away in subterranean twilight – and entices listeners to repeat the trip.

01 - Bracada Desert, Deyja Paul Romero 2:15
02 - Dungeon Theme Paul Romero 2:57
03 - AvLee, Harmondale, Tatalia Paul Romero 2:24
04 - The Barrows Paul Romero 3:23
05 - Evenmorn Island Paul Romero 2:56
06 - Dark Theme (The Pit, Castle Gloaming) Paul Romero 2:43
07 - Arena, The Lincoln Paul Romero 2:02
08 - Shoals Paul Romero 2:08
09 - Light Theme (Celeste, Castle Lambent) Paul Romero 2:13
10 - Mount Nighon Paul Romero 2:21
11 - Barrow Downs, Eeofol Paul Romero 2:22
12 - Temple Theme Paul Romero 2:02
13 - Castle Theme, Title Screen Paul Romero 1:59
14 - Credits Paul Romero 1:57
15 - Stronghold Theme Paul Romero 2:06
16 - Erathia Paul Romero 1:40
17 - Tularean Forest Paul Romero 2:17
18 - Castle Harmondale, Stone City Paul Romero 2:47
19 - Emerald Island Paul Romero 2:02

Mystic Ark Soundtrack

Mystic Ark Soundtrack, Akihiko Mori, 1995

Scarcity and nostalgia can have a powerful effect when working hand in hand – just take Mystic Ark. A representative of a particularly popular genre amongst retro game fans – the 16-bit RPG – Mystic Ark’s status was elevated further by the dual facts that it was released towards the end of the SNES’ lifespan and only in Japan. Was this one of the great untranslated SNES gems like Star Ocean and Tales of Phantasia that pushed the hardware and its beloved pixel art to its limits?

As a ROM translation released years later showed, not so much. Mystic Ark’s gameplay turned out to be solid, but not particularly inspired either, settling for second-tier status in the SNES’ busy RPG library. The one thing that set the game apart from the pack was the inspired weirdness of the various worlds its heroes traverse. Pick your favourite: a desert whose only inhabitants are pirate cats and a witch named Matoya; worlds where colour and sound disappear depending on your location or where all adults have disappeared – or maybe cities made of fruit and vegetables?

Well, and then there’s the Mystic Ark soundtrack. No, it’s not as joyfully bizarre as the game’s setting – in fact, its orchestra/rock mix is fairly typical for a JRPG of its era, far more so than say its predecessor The 7^th Saga’s idiosyncratic, stylistically more coherent take on the genre. No, what makes this score so remarkable is its sheer quality, the way it executes genre conventions to absolute perfection – so much so that this might rank as one of the best RPG soundtracks ever composed.

In a way, the outstanding level of artistry on display here is no surprise. Composer Akihiko Mori had established himself as one of the 16-bit era’s most gifted orchestral composers with Shien’s Revenge and Wonder Project J. Mystic Ark finally gave him the opportunity to work on the broad emotional canvas of an RPG, and its manifold settings and moods. Clearly, Mori relished the opportunity, writing over 100 compositions for the score between the winter of 1994 and spring of 1995 (while also working on the game’s sound effects). Ultimately, 51 tracks found their way into the game and it’s remarkable how consistent they are in their excellence.

This is easily Mori’s most ambitious score – a fact that’s reflected on several levels. Take the soundtrack’s thematic components. With the game’s wildly varying locations and bland characters, it’s no surprise Mori focuses on other aspects of the narrative to develop them through musical themes, leading to a unique solution.

Two main themes run through the Mystic Ark soundtrack. The first melody is presented initially as a dramatically rising and falling flute melody on “Mystic Ark”, returning periodically in colourful disguises throughout the soundtrack. More interesting still is the second theme, at first an invincibly majestic melody with an irrepressibly on-the-beat, hymn-like progression on the choir-only “The Mother Goddess”. Here, Mori takes the – within game music – unprecedented step to develop the theme in three-way counterpoint, somehow keeping the choral lines discernible despite the SNES samples’ watery nature. Mori had layered three melodies on top of each other on Wonder Project J, but here he does so to develop one single melody and constantly change it. Game music has produced few examples of contrapuntal mastery like “The Mother Goddess”.

Mori’s true thematic masterstroke takes place on a more granular level though. Throughout the game, he reprises not just the two main themes, but also smaller motifs, for example a cello run that appears on several dungeon tracks. The purpose of these recurrences becomes obvious once the monumental final boss track “Are You the True Form of Darkness?” kicks off, spearheaded by the Mother Goddess theme. An absolute beast of a battle track, “Are You the True Form of Darkness?” combines a dozen motifs and melodies that have been floating through the Mystic Ark soundtrack into one seamless orchestral epic – organically and truly bringing the entire soundtrack to its climax by tying together its many threads.

In all other aspects, the Mystic Ark soundtrack succeeds just as triumphantly. Mori is at the height of his melodic powers here – sample the gorgeous waltz pastiche of “Shall We Dance?”, the way “Alone” tugs at the heartstrings with its delicately intertwining melodies, or the beguilingly idyllic “Composers Are Always Quiet on Their Days Off” and “The Summer of Youth”, with their sunny seaside town feel. While not as hyperactive as Shien’s Revenge, Mystic Ark’s compositions are jam-packed with constantly evolving melodies and orchestral colours – an embarrassment of musical riches and ideas. Mori has always had an ear for lush orchestrations and rarely has his music sound more intoxicating than on “Water is the Mother of all Life”. The composition’s clever use of ostinato figures brilliantly and to poignant effect mimics the constant motion of water. Solemn brass and cello interjections inspire hushed awe as the music takes listeners into the centre of this temple of nature.

Not surprisingly, Mori’s battle themes are equally maximalist, pulling out all the stops in their combination of orchestral forces and driving hard rock and metal. Lock On had given Mori an opportunity to dabble in metal-laced jazz rock, and now he gets an opportunity to indulge in heavier stylings. On turbulent tracks like “So the Fingers of the Dark Have Reached Even Here” and “I Am a Powerful Ally”, orchestra and rock band merge flawlessly, constantly trading places in some of the soundtrack’s most densely scored moments. “Hey! Don’t Attack Me!” features some of the heaviest riffage performed by the SNES’ SPC chip, moving from thrash to power metal, with a downright catchy choral hook topping off the track’s development.

At the same time, Mori knows fully well when to scale things back a bit and provide some breathing space. The results are as convincing as when he goes in all guns blazing. Take “In the Darkness”, which only needs double-tracked, echoing harp arpeggios, interspersed with hammering piano chords, to evoke its vast subterranean location. “The Haunted Mansion” and “Look Behind You” are downright creepy, taking this RPG score unusually far into horror territory, while maintaining a degree of playfulness – witness how “The Haunted Mansion” simulates the sound of a grand piano suddenly slamming shut. The best example of Mori playing outside of genre stereotypes is “Techno House”, a mutant take on jazz with electronic elements, choral vocals and cheerily industrial percussion.

It all leads into closing track “Birth”, one of the best orchestral compositions ever to grace a video game. This truly is concert hall-quality music written for the SNES and the peak of Mori’s career. Taking the score’s first main theme on a roller coaster ride, “Birth” delivers one melodic highlight after the next, relishing the opportunity to develop its material and moods over such an extended period of time. Constantly joyful and surging forward (particularly during a brief fugal section), “Birth” closes with the most triumphant, life-affirming rendition of the main theme imaginable, a colossal, soaring string melody that delivers the truly epic conclusion that this master piece of a soundtrack deserves.

01 - Mystic Ark (Title) Mori, Akihiro 1:45
02 - The Mother Goddess (Shrine) Mori, Akihiro 3:42
03 - Let's Go On An Adventure!! (World 1 & 4) Mori, Akihiro 2:39
04 - In The Darkness (Dungeon 1) Mori, Akihiro 3:11
05 - Your Fighting Eyes Are Always Beautiful (Battle 1) Mori, Akihiro 2:48
06 - The Rogues Who Await Us In The Depths Of The Dungeon Are Strong Indeed! (Boss Battle 1) Mori, Akihiro 2:27
07 - The Shepherd People (World 2) Mori, Akihiro 2:57
08 - Without You, This Village Holds Nothing For Me (Town 2) Mori, Akihiro 2:10
09 - Where Are We... I'm A Forest! (Dungeon 2) Mori, Akihiro 2:34
10 - So The Fingers Of The Dark Have Reached Even Here (Battle 2) Mori, Akihiro 2:44
11 - The Rise And Fall Of The Waves (World 3) Mori, Akihiro 1:52
12 - Composers Are Always Too Quiet On Their Days Off (Town 3) Mori, Akihiro 2:30
13 - On The Holiday, Let's Bask In The Light Of The Sun (Battle 3) Mori, Akihiro 2:40
14 - The Summer Of Youth (Town 4) Mori, Akihiro 2:12
15 - Water Is The Mother Of All Life (Dungeon 4) Mori, Akihiro 3:29
16 - I Am A Powerful Ally (Battle 4) Mori, Akihiro 2:27
17 - Alone (World 5) Mori, Akihiro 3:26
18 - In The Depths Of The Labyrinth (Dungeon 5) Mori, Akihiro 2:14
19 - Hey! Don't Attack Me! (Boss Battle 2) Mori, Akihiro 3:28
20 - The Haunted Mansion (World 6) Mori, Akihiro 2:52
21 - Look Behind You! (Dungeon 6) Mori, Akihiro 2:27
22 - Theme Of Sir Ganbos (Gunboss) Mori, Akihiro 2:33
23 - Threads Of Memories (Secil) Mori, Akihiro 2:13
24 - Shall We Dance? (Rondo) Mori, Akihiro 1:07
25 - Only A Music Box Remains (Music Box) Mori, Akihiro 1:48
26 - Pathetique (Sadness) Mori, Akihiro 2:55
27 - A Tale Of A Faery Land (Castle) Mori, Akihiro
28 - How Are You? Things Are Pretty Much The Same Here (Revival) Mori, Akihiro 3:13
29 - Techno House (Factory) Mori, Akihiro 2:33
30 - A Decisive Time (Boss Battle 3) Mori, Akihiro 5:45
31 - This Will Become Your Grave (Dark) Mori, Akihiro 2:14
32 - The Truth Hidden Within The Temple (Last World) Mori, Akihiro 2:42
33 - Are You The True Form Of Darkness? (Last Battle) Mori, Akihiro 6:11
34 - Birth (End Title) Mori, Akihiro 7:54

Secret of Evermore Soundtrack

Secret of Evermore Soundtrack, Jeremy Soule, 1995

It’s fair to say that a game like Secret of Evermore would meet with less hostility these days. The thought of a Western console RPG is no longer an affront to gamers raised on Japanese genre products. Back in 1995 though, what many Square fans in the Western hemisphere wanted was a localised Secret of Mana 2 / Seiken Densetsu 3. What they didn’t look for was a down-to-earth alternative to JRPGs’ heroic melodramatics. Especially if it was littered with fictional pop culture references and had a metaphysical, light-hearted tongue-in-cheek approach.

And so, Secret of Evermore began its uphill battle. Sadly, its music got caught up in the struggle – entirely undeservedly so. Even decades after its release, perceptions of future star composer Jeremy Soule‘s debut seem highly ambivalent. Grievances raised against the Secret of Evermore soundtrack usually include that there is hardly any music in the first place (the game uses ambient sounds more extensively than any previous console RPG, but there is still close to an hour of melodic material to enjoy); that the score album leaves out too much music from the game and focuses too strongly on one of Evermore‘s time periods (on the contrary, the album does a great job at gathering the majority of worthwhile compositions from the game, which simply happen to mostly feature in the world of Gothica); and that the music itself is unremarkable.

That last point seems to be often made by game music fans expecting Secret of Evermore to sound like a JRPG. But not surprisingly, its music is as much a departure from genre conventions as the game’s overall stylistic direction. What’s often overlooked is that the Secret of Evermore soundtrack bears one crucial similarity to Secret of Mana. Both works take an individualistic, innovative approach to scoring an RPG. They look for alternatives to the usual, late-romantic orchestral sound that the RPG genre seems to attract.

Ironically, Soule’s demo tape, which landed him his first composing gig, seemed to follow down precisely this well-trodden musical path. According to Evermore‘s producer Alan Weiss, Soule’s original compositions were a mix of John Barry and John Williams. Maybe it was due to the SNES’ limitations that Soule’s music for Secret of Evermore turned out so astonishingly different from his film music inspirations. According to Weiss, the young composer was used to working with far more advanced digital sound technology. But in fact, the SNES sound chip’s constraints may have been a blessing in disguise. After all, it’s hard to ignore that Secret of Evermore is still by far Soule’s most creative work.

Somehow, Soule manages to find a fitting musical equivalent for the game’s peculiar low-key mood and pursuit of realism (that still accommodated Gothic castles and rampaging robot butlers, mind you). As you would expect, there’s little of the RPG genre’s usual high fantasy heroism to be found here. No confessional melodramatics in sight – even the soundtrack’s ‘flying’ cue, usually THE opportunity for an RPG composer to cut loose and write a soaring piece of music, is a fairly subdued, but nonetheless fascinating affair.

Throughout the score, Soule prefers to write for small orchestral ensembles, usually led by intimate woodwind and acoustic guitar soli. They alternate between ‘mysterious’ and ‘quietly spellbinding’ through their chromatic melody lines, which cleverly incorporate folk and jazz influences. There’s a subtlety to Soule’s approach that belies his relative inexperience as a game music composer in stunning fashion. These are compositions with an astonishing amount of emotional ambivalence and complexity. They also show a composer in full command of the expressive capabilities of the instruments he deploys. The overall, dominant mood on Secret of Evermore might be one of melancholy and autumnal lyricism. But sombre menace, quirkiness and ethereal allure hide just beneath the surface, and it takes a bit of patience to unearth the music’s melodic beauty.

Yes, contrary to its reputation, the Secret of Evermore soundtrack features a wealth of wonderful melodies. They might be less hummable than their JRPG counterparts. However, they’re just as rich and maybe even more enticing, heading into unexpected harmonic and rhythmic directions. A final crucial piece of the puzzle is the striking quality of the samples Soule uses. This is of particular importance on a soundtrack that uses so few musical elements – and each one needs to make its full impact. It’s impossible not to marvel at the life-like nature of Secret of Evermore‘s acoustic guitar lines. Even better, the various woodwind instruments heard throughout the soundtrack have a welcoming, warm glow that never fails to beguile.

It might sound a bit like heresy, but detach yourself from the many preconceptions that history has burdened Secret of Evermore‘s music with, and it emerges as one of the best RPG scores written for the SNES. Restrained and sophisticated, the Secret of Evermore soundtrack hits the perfect balance between atmosphere and melodies.

01 - Menu Jeremy Soule 1:09
02 - A Boy and His Dog (Opening Part 2 (Podunk, 1995)) Jeremy Soule 1:59
03 - Elephant Graveyard Jeremy Soule 3:12
04 - Pirates of Crustacia Jeremy Soule 2:23
05 - Horace Highwater Jeremy Soule 2:13
06 - Great Pyramid Jeremy Soule 2:40
07 - Hall of Collosia (Collosia, Chamber 1) Jeremy Soule 2:48
08 - Darkness of the Temple (Collosia, Inner Sanctum) Jeremy Soule 2:32
09 - Death of a Minotaur (Collosia, Chapter 2) Jeremy Soule 2:02
10 - City of Ivory (Ivor Keep) Jeremy Soule 3:16
11 - Freak Show!!! Jeremy Soule 2:24
12 - Regal Castle Jeremy Soule 2:50
13 - Lonely Halls (Ivor Tower Castle Side Chambers) Jeremy Soule 2:14
14 - Puppet Show Jeremy Soule 2:15
15 - City of Ebony (Ebon Keep) Jeremy Soule 2:04
16 - Deserted Castle (Ebon Keep Castle) Jeremy Soule 2:31
17 - Queen Bluegarden Jeremy Soule 3:59
18 - Tinker Tinderbox Jeremy Soule 1:33
19 - High in the Sky (Flying) Jeremy Soule 2:53
20 - Final Battle - Carltron Jeremy Soule 2:02
21 - Escape from Evermore Jeremy Soule 2:21
22 - Return to Podunk (Ending) Jeremy Soule 1:24
23 - Staff Roll Jeremy Soule 3:12

Secret of Mana Soundtrack

Secret of Mana Soundtrack, Hiroki Kikuta, 1993

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shiren the Wanderer 3 Soundtrack (Wii)

Shiren the Wanderer 3 Soundtrack (Wii), Hayato Matsuo, 2008

The Shiren the Wanderer franchise is one of those video game series that has generated a surprising number of titles, despite never being blessed with outstanding sales numbers. Upon its release in Japan in 2008, Fushigi no Dungeon: Fuurai no Shiren 3: Karakuri Yashiki no Nemuri Hime was the seventh game in the long-running franchise of roguelikes. Making matters somewhat confusing, Atlus USA released the game in the USA as Shiren the Wanderer (not to be confused with the 1995 SNES original). For the purpose of this review, we’ll stick with Shiren the Wanderer 3. Like more or less all other Shiren the Wanderer titles, the game generated respectable reviews and decent sales without leaving a particularly strong impression either way. What several reviewers did remark upon was that the game’s difficulty had been toned down somewhat from its predecessors, making this a more accessible entry in the franchise.

While the first Shiren the Wanderer game had been blessed by Koichi Sugiyama’s best work outside of the Dragon Quest series, Hayato Matsuo had taken over franchise scoring duties since 2001’s Shiren the Wanderer GB2. For that score and 2002’s Fushigi no Dungeon: Fuurai no Shiren Gaiden: Onna Kenshi Asuka Kenzan, Matsuo had relied extensively on material previously written by Sugiyama. Matsuo took a more individualistic approach on the Shiren the Wanderer 3 soundtrack, which features only a few reprises of Sugiyama’s melodies. The score came at a fortuitous time for Matsuo, hot on the heels of his magnum opus Hellsing Ultimate. Unfortunately, no soundtrack release has been forthcoming for Shiren the Wanderer 3 – maybe developer Chunsoft was wary of releasing a four disc-album for a Wii title that hadn’t been a commercial smash hit.

Yes, Matsuo’s score clocks in at four hours (looped), making it one of the most expansive Wii soundtracks. Thankfully, it also happens to be one of the best scores on the system – when all is said and done, this masterful work contains no less than three hours of excellent music. Matsuo’s skills as a creator of lavishly orchestrated and fluidly developed pieces full of exquisite melodies are on full display here. What might be most striking is how Matsuo manages to create a neverending stream of beautiful melodies (usually on woodwinds), while merging Japanese and Western orchestrations with stunning ease rivalled by very few other composers.

In this journey across soundworlds, Matsuo follows in Sugiyama’s footsteps and the template he had set back in 1995. Naturally, advances in technology and a longer run time allow Matsuo to explore his broad array of instruments in greater detail and variety. While he very rarely ventures outside of the realm of acoustic orchestrations on the Shiren the Wander 3 soundtrack, Matsuo teases a dazzling array of colours and moods out of his (synthesised) ensemble.

For example, an impressionistic piece like “Goten Kaguyagoryou”, with its contently glowing, slowly drifting melodies, reprises the mood of Shiren the Wanderer’s bucolic village tracks. When Matsuo focuses more strongly on Japanese influences – usually lead by shakuhachi and shamisen soli – the mood often turns strikingly ritualistic and austere. On “Toride 1” and “Toride 4”, Matsuo evokes a remarkably arid atmosphere through the use of traditional Japanese instruments, setting a scene that is lonesome but not bereft of hope or melodic beauty. Elsewhere, Matsuo uses his home country’s musical traditions in a more light-hearted fashion. “Goten Tenshu” turns into a nocturnal reverie thanks to its calm shakuhachi solo set against glistening synths. Like “Ryuugaike”, “Goten Tenshu” then surprises by moving from a serene opening to a lively B section that doesn’t interrupt the carefully conjured, enraptured ambience.

It’s on the more cinematic pieces that the Shiren the Wanderer 3 soundtrack wears his other prominent inspiration – Western classical music – proudly on his sleeve, again to excellent results. For example, you wouldn’t expect to find a harpsichord on a score like this. However, “Yashiki 1” effortlessly pulls this surprise off, before it develops into one of the soundtrack’s most complex, ambitious pieces, combining quiveringly dramatic string orchestrations with a thrilling shakuhachi solo. “Yagura 2” sees Matsuo having some fun with the format of a belligerent, brass-heavy march, slipping in some humorous undertones. “Warabeuta Kaguya” delivers an unexpected outburst of choir- and brass-driven bombast that takes an initially innocent flute melody to unexpectedly theatrical heights. And “Kaguya 3” surprises as a superbly written string adagio that might be the score’s most brilliantly melodic, heart-rending composition.

Matsuo’s most assured use of orchestral forces is found on “Epilogue 1” and “Epilogue 2”. The first composition is a delightful mix of gentle dance rhythms and light-footed call and response patterns between various solo instruments. Its successor seamlessly builds from its reflective start to a mighty brass climax that proves Matsuo to be at least the equal of Sugiyama when it comes to writing orchestral compositions of truly classically-inspired gravitas and splendour.

And like Sugiyama before him, Matsuo combines Japanese and Western instruments with commensurate skill – in fact, the Shiren the Wanderer 3 soundtrack might be one of the best amalgamations of Eastern and Western music in any medium. Again, there’s an embarrassment of riches to choose from. “Kaguya” mixes a warm romanticism derived from Western classical music with Japanese woodwind leads. “Yashiki 2” grafts a shamisen melody onto percolating orchestral woodwind lines to underscore a tense scenario in beguiling timbres. On the lighter end of the spectrum is “Touge”, one of the few compositions featuring the pipa more prominently as two woodwind lines intertwine blissfully against swooning strings. And of course, “Staff Roll” is the perfect spot to summarise Matsuo’s eclectic yet unified approach – appropriately upbeat and proud as it delves into a cornucopia of colours and melodies.

Not many soundtrack aficionados associate the Wii with the kind of sweeping, grand RPG score that attracted so many fans to game music in the first place. However, that’s precisely what Matsuo’s Shiren the Wanderer 3 is – a work of immense stature and a boundless supply of melodic delights that is both coherent and kaleidoscopic at the same time.

01 - Opening Matsuo, Hayato 2:08
02 - Chaya Matsuo, Hayato 2:24
03 - Dokodemo Matsuo, Hayato 3:19
04 - Fact Matsuo, Hayato 2:49
05 - Goten Butai 1 Matsuo, Hayato 3:48
06 - Goten Honmaru 1 Matsuo, Hayato 3:18
07 - Goten Kaguyagoryou Matsuo, Hayato 4:29
08 - Goten Tenshu Matsuo, Hayato 3:05
09 - Goten Zenigura 1 Matsuo, Hayato 3:34
10 - Goten Zenigura Matsuo, Hayato 3:32
11 - Hourai Matsuo, Hayato 2:51
12 - Hourai (Under) Matsuo, Hayato 2:52
13 - Izanami 2 Matsuo, Hayato 3:16
14 - Jofuku Matsuo, Hayato 3:10
15 - Juurouta Matsuo, Hayato 2:24
16 - Kaguya 1 Matsuo, Hayato 4:07
17 - Kaguya 2 Matsuo, Hayato 3:33
18 - Kaguya 3 Matsuo, Hayato 2:43
19 - Karakurihime Matsuo, Hayato 3:46
20 - Mizunoyama Matsuo, Hayato 3:48
21 - Monologue Matsuo, Hayato 3:24
22 - Monster Cottage Matsuo, Hayato 2:31
23 - Monster House Matsuo, Hayato 2:18
24 - Noumin Matsuo, Hayato 3:51
25 - Ootsutsukimura Matsuo, Hayato 2:48
26 - Ootsutsukimura (Past) Matsuo, Hayato 2:18
27 - Ryuugaike OYNZ50011512 3:34
28 - S30 Matsuo, Hayato 3:52
29 - Sanukinomori Matsuo, Hayato 3:07
30 - Sanukinomori (Past) Matsuo, Hayato 2:59
31 - Shishanotani Matsuo, Hayato 3:30
32 - Shop Matsuo, Hayato 2:02
33 - Tension 2 Matsuo, Hayato 2:25
34 - Toride 1 Matsuo, Hayato 2:56
35 - Toride 2 Matsuo, Hayato 2:55
36 - Toride 3 Matsuo, Hayato 3:18
37 - Toride 4 Matsuo, Hayato 4:14
38 - Touge Matsuo, Hayato 2:58
39 - Touge (Past) Matsuo, Hayato 3:19
40 - Warabeuta Kaguya Matsuo, Hayato 4:31
41 - Yagura 1 Matsuo, Hayato 3:53
42 - Yagura 2 Matsuo, Hayato 3:12
43 - Yashiki 1 Matsuo, Hayato 4:06
44 - Yashiki 2 Matsuo, Hayato 3:09
45 - Yomigoten 1 Matsuo, Hayato 4:27
46 - Epilogue 1 Matsuo, Hayato 3:37
47 - Epilogue 2 Matsuo, Hayato 2:19
48 - Staff Roll Matsuo, Hayato 3:34

Shiren the Wanderer Soundtrack (SNES)

Shiren the Wanderer Soundtrack (SNES), Koichi Sugiyama, 1995

It’s a bit surprising that it took publisher Enix a full seven years to create spin-off games for its monstrously successful Dragon Quest franchise. Enix’ first attempt to widen the Dragon Quest universe was 1993’s Torneko no Daibouken: Fushigi no Dungeon for the SNES. The game was successful enough to kickstart its own franchise: Mystery Dungeon. The next entry in this burgeoning series was Mystery Dungeon: Shiren the Wanderer, again released on the SNES. One of the system’s few roguelikes – replete with randomly generated levels and a punishing difficulty level – Shiren the Wanderer sold sufficient copies to create yet another franchise of its own. Looking to put their own creative stamp on the Mystery Dungeon series, developer Chunsoft differentiated the game from its Dragon Quest brethren by setting it in a fantasy version of feudal Japan.

For the game’s soundtrack, Chunsoft sought the services of a known quantity: Koichi Sugiyama, who had provided the music for all of Chunsoft’s previous Dragon Quest games and by this stage was one of game music’s most famed composers. While the Dragon Quest titles allowed Sugiyama to indulge in his fondness for Western classical music, their pseudo-medieval/fantasy settings didn’t give him much of an opportunity to draw upon Japanese musical influences (apart from Dragon Quest III’s “Jurong”). For Sugiyama, the Shiren the Wanderer soundtrack was a chance to remedy this situation, ensuring that his music matched the game’s visually distinct character.

On album, the Shiren the Wanderer soundtrack ended up taking a somewhat circuitous route. An album containing synth arrangements and one live orchestral medley of the SNES compositions was released on December 20 1995 (one day before Sugiyama’s Dragon Quest VI album with the London Philharmonic Orchestra!) The game’s music was later ported for Game Boy title Mystery Dungeon: Shiren the Wanderer GB and the Nintendo 64’s Shiren the Wanderer 2. Those two scores were included on a 20th-anniversary album release by Chunsoft – but not the SNES version, for some reason.

Interestingly enough, the SNES original remains the strongest representation of this soundtrack across platforms. The N64 port adds a raft of new material that is of variable quality and the samples used are less vibrant than on the SNES; the Game Boy score handles the more lushly arranged SNES pieces well enough but predictably struggles to replicate solo instruments like the shakuhachi convincingly; and the 2008 Nintendo DS remake boasts underwhelming sample quality that is less life-like still than what’s heard in the N64 game.

And this is indeed the kind of score that thrives on the authenticity of its instrument samples. Not surprisingly, given the game’s setting, Sugiyama heavily relies on traditional Japanese solo instruments such as the shakuhachi and the shamisen to carry most of the melodies on the Shiren the Wanderer soundtrack. If a melody is given to a Western instrument, it is often chosen to match the Japanese instruments’ earthy and intimate tones, for example the harmonica on “Summit Town” or the flute on “The Valley Campsite”. In most cases, Sugiyama couches these melody leads in delicate, Western classically-inspired orchestrations. They create colourful and emotionally rich sonorities, courtesy of Sugiyama’s harmonic and instrumental subtleties. It also helps that the score sees Sugiyama at the peak of his melodic capabilities. Many compositions run for more than four minutes (looped), rolling out their instantly captivating melodies with confidence and patience.

What’s particularly striking about the Shiren the Wanderer soundtrack is how it creates a highly original, enthralling sound world that’s entirely in support of the game’s aesthetic. Sugiyama mines the timbres of his solo instruments to evoke a mood that is both down-to-earth and spiritual, using sounds that seem to have travelled across the depths of time. Listen to “Crooked Boulder Valley Kigan”, where Sugiyama retains interest through nothing but an extended shakuhachi solo with its jagged, non-melodic (to Western ears) progression. Like on Stéphane Picq and Pierre Estève’s Atlantis: The Lost Tales, only a single instrument is required to conjure an ancient culture’s wisdom and tradition. This contrast between earthly and otherworldly concerns (which are really just two sides of the same coin) is spelt out more clearly on “Summit Town” and “The Valley Campsite”, where rustic introductions lead into star-gazing, yet still homely B sections with unexpectedly chromatic string harmonies.

What’s even more impressive is how Sugiyama manages to unify not just Eastern and Western styles as well as earth and heaven on the Shiren the Wanderer soundtrack, but yet still more tonal contrasts. His town themes are predictably idyllic but still immensely creative. Take “Bamboo Forest Village Tabigara”, where chromatic, ostinato-like woodwind chords underneath the shamisen lead give the music a subtly haunting and ritualistic, almost religious mood. Still more original are Sugiyama’s dungeon tracks. There’s a wealth of highlights to choose from, be it “Neburi Mine”’s unexpectedly majestic string orchestrations, “Trial Caves”’ unpredictably proceeding shakuhachi solo that leaves the destination of this journey into the dark unclear, or “Mountain Spirit Cave” with its intriguingly agitated disposition and skittish changes of Eastern/Western melody leads. And let’s not forget that Sugiyama somehow manages to make the inclusion of electric guitar on “Monster House” and “Mountain Spirit Cave 2” work!

What helps to make the Shiren the Wanderer soundtrack such a coherent listening experience is Sugiyama’s clever use of a single musical theme. The SNES era saw Sugiyama’s interest in thematic integration within his game scores peaking. Dragon Quest VI is easily his most thematically structured score in that franchise, while Torneko no Daibouken: Fushigi no Dungeon based almost every single composition on the same theme. That was also that earlier score’s downfall, as it presented little worthwhile melodic material outside of that one tune.

Sugiyama doesn’t repeat the same mistake here, writing several secondary motifs and fresh melodies for most tracks. And while he deploys his easily recognisable main theme – ceremonial yet homespun – on most tracks, he repeats it in an impressive array of disguises. Listeners will encounter the theme most commonly in its solo shakuhachi iteration, but also on acoustic guitar (“Pet”), its progression twisted and stretched (“Legend”), on eerie strings (“Thief”) or harmonised glockenspiel (“Labyrinth”) – or even through the stuttering funk syncopations of “Monster House” and on electric guitar (“Mountain Spirit Cave 2”). It’s a masterful display of compositional chops and yet another reason to label the Shiren the Wanderer soundtrack Sugiyama’s best work outside of the Dragon Quest franchise and one of the best SNES RPG scores.

01 - Bamboo Forest Village Tabigara Sugiyama, Koichi 5:10
02 - Crooked Boulder Valley Kigan Sugiyama, Koichi 5:03
03 - Fateful Encounter Sugiyama, Koichi 2:24
04 - Monster House Sugiyama, Koichi 2:32
05 - Mountain Spirit Cave Sugiyama, Koichi 4:51
06 - Mountain Spirit Cave 2 Sugiyama, Koichi 2:34
07 - Neburi Mine Sugiyama, Koichi 3:15
08 - Old Cedar Road Sugiyama, Koichi 4:19
09 - Pottery Master Gaibara Sugiyama, Koichi 1:48
10 - Shop Sugiyama, Koichi 1:28
11 - Summit Forest Sugiyama, Koichi 2:41
12 - Summit Town Sugiyama, Koichi 4:59
13 - Tenma Pass Sugiyama, Koichi 5:25
14 - Trial Caves Sugiyama, Koichi 4:29
15 - Valley Inn Sugiyama, Koichi 3:51
16 - Waterfall Cave Sugiyama, Koichi 2:33
17 - Golden City Sugiyama, Koichi 3:43
18 - Ending Sugiyama, Koichi 5:48