Sega Genesis Archives - The Greatest Game Music

Battletoads Soundtrack (Sega Genesis)

Battletoads Soundtrack (Sega Genesis), Hikoshi Hashimoto / David Wise, 1993

Yes, it might have been a blatant attempt to ride the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles’ coattails. Still, Rare’s 1991 NES Battletoads game was successful enough to see it ported to a plethora of other platforms. Probably the highest-profile port was the Battletoads version released for the Sega Genesis in 1993. Reviews of the game were somewhat divided. More than a few critics pointed out that the developers could have done more to improve the game in the two years that had passed since the NES release, instead of releasing what was mostly a simple conversion that arguably didn’t push the Genesis graphics chip much. In fact, where the Genesis port of Battletoads probably shines the brightest is with its score.

Let’s start with a few disclaimers. Available information on who developed the Genesis port is conflicting. Some sources point to Rare, others list Japanese studio Arc System Works. Arc System Works did develop the Battletoads Game Gear port, so it’s reasonably likely they handled the Genesis conversion too. The Game Gear soundtrack was ported by Hikoshi Hashimoto, not original composer David Wise himself and since it was practically unheard of in the mid-90s for a Western composer to work on a Japanese game, it is reasonably safe to assume Hashimoto handled the Genesis port as well. That theory is supported by the fact that the Genesis version of Battletoads uses the SMPS Z80 sound driver, commonly used by Japanese composers. This would also account for the fact that this version of Battletoads sounds quite different from Wise’s Genesis port of Battletoads & Double Dragon.

Thankfully, once we move to the music itself, these considerations matter little. The Genesis port of the Battletoads soundtrack is easily the most successful adaptation of the idiosyncratic NES original. The score’s Amiga and Amiga CD32 ports had proven that simply taking the NES compositions and beefing them up using better synths didn’t work particularly well. This approach turned the score into a decent-to-middling action game soundtrack that was missing the original’s nervously pulsing, twitchy intensity. On the Genesis, Hashimoto manages to avoid this issue, retaining the NES soundtrack’s character while subtly tweaking it.

Firstly, there are those more straightforward compositions that would have always been easier to port to other systems. Take “Turbo Tunnel Race”, which on the NES had already been a flawless, beautifully head-banging hard rock track. Transferring it to the superior Genesis sound chip only means that the rhythm section’s single-minded focus on breathless racing action comes across all the more powerfully. Similarly, “Theme” doesn’t need much tweaking to rock harder than its NES equivalent, while preserving its strident, catchy nature.

On other tracks, Hashimoto straightens out the NES compositions’ peculiarities to emphasise the tracks’ melodic strengths. Take the Genesis version of “Volkmire’s Inferno Race” – the off-kilter rhythms and complexities of the NES cue are gone. However, they are replaced by laser-sharp pop instincts and a killer of a sing-along melody in the cue’s B section. That melody was of course already there on the NES original, but here it absolutely soars with unrestrained euphoria, thanks to an uncluttered arrangement and more powerful, clearer synths. Arranging this kind of track might have come naturally to Hashimoto, considering his similarly-styled work on Racing Hero.

Final level track “Revolution” takes a similar approach. It doesn’t undermine action game scoring conventions as much as the NES score did, but still registers as a creative and effective piece of game music. If the NES cue was full of anxiously jittering anticipation, the Genesis port sets the scene for the final showdown in more conventionally spectacular fashion. “Revolution”’s opening descending arpeggios are hiding a vaguely hopeful melody that is more strongly emphasised on the Genesis. At the same time, the Genesis-exclusive hammering snare drums doubling the arpeggiated notes only increase the drama and tension. “Rat Race” even improves on the NES original, with the Genesis’ more powerful tones deployed most effectively. With every instrument right in the listener’s face, the fast rhythms feel more panicked and breathless than on the NES.

Still, much of the original Battletoads soundtrack was surprisingly moody and jagged. It also steadfastly refused to deliver much in terms of empowering melodies or rhythms. Porting the score to a 16-bit platform inevitably removes much of the original chiptunes’ haziness and their elusive nature that Wise had made the most of. However, Hashimoto finds a suitable replacement on the Genesis port to keep the music unpredictable.

Again, the effect is not as strong as what the NES original achieved, but it’s still sufficient to keep listeners intrigued. Rather than simply relying on the Genesis’ more forceful synths, Hashimoto uses the platform’s wider range of timbres to maintain the pieces’ unstable mood and uneven forward drive. First level track “Ragnarok’s Canyon” establishes this trait right away and “Wookie Hole” continues to fragment its momentum by switching back and forth between instrumental colours. As a result, the larger instrumentation isn’t in the way of the music’s originally intended mood, but instead creatively twists it.

Tracks like “Surf City”, “Karnath’s Lair” and “Intruder Excluder & Terra Tubes” might stick closer to racing action scoring than the NES originals, but they maintain the NES tracks’ erratic, yet effective stop/start dynamics. “Surf City” makes the most pronounced use of contrasting timbres to break up its own flow. From 0:35 onwards, its lead melody suddenly shifts back and forth between a bell-like instrument and bass synths – never sacrificing its thrust yet keeping the track’s progression a surprise. And thanks to the Genesis’ more robust synths, sudden changes of pace and rhythm register with more force than previously. So while the NES original remains the more creative score, the Battletoads soundtrack for the Genesis is still an excellent, sometimes intriguingly eccentric piece of action game scoring.

01 - Title Screen / Opening David Wise 1:38
02 - Ragnarok's Canyon (Stage 1) David Wise 2:26
03 - Wookie Hole (Stage 2) David Wise 3:43
04 - Turbo Tunnel Race (Stage 3) David Wise 2:51
05 - Arctic Caverns (Stage 4) David Wise 2:01
06 - Surf City (Stage 5) David Wise 2:07
07 - Karnath's Lair (Stage 6) David Wise 2:19
08 - Volkmire's Inferno Race (Stage 7) David Wise 1:47
09 - Intruder Excluder & Terra Tubes (Stage 8 & 9) David Wise 1:38
10 - Rat Race (Stage 10) David Wise 2:03
11 - The Revolution (Stage 12) David Wise 2:19

MUSHA Soundtrack

MUSHA Soundtrack, Toshiaki Sakoda, 1990

It’s safe to say that Compile’s well-regarded Aleste series reached its pinnacle with 1990’s MUSHA for the Sega Genesis. It ranks as one of the 16-bit era’s best shooters, with lightning-fast gameplay, an immensely challenging difficulty level and some of the most breathtaking visuals ever seen on the Genesis – all the more impressive considering that MUSHA was a first-generation title. What really helped to set the game apart was its visual style. Feeling that MUSHA had to differ significantly from its franchise predecessors, the developers came up with an unusual mix of sci-fi tropes and traditional Japanese lore. As a result, your flying mecha shoots super-charged electric shurikens while facing off against enemies like robotic ninjas and Japanese castles on tank treads.

Another one of MUSHA’s virtues fondly recalled by many gamers is its superlative soundtrack, delivered by Toshiaki Sakoda. Sakoda had worked on previous Compile titles such as Aleste 2 and the first two instalments of the Crush Pinball series. On this occasion, the music formed a more critical part of the game’s stylistic foundations than usually. In fact, art director Kazuyuki Nakashima used the phrase “Edo Metal” to pitch the game’s concept to Compile’s leadership. According to Nakashima, the developers soon settled on a “speedy heavy metal sound that would match the fast scrolling and would play from the start of the opening demo non-stop without interruption”.

As a fan of Van Halen and Michael Schenker – but also Beethoven – Sakoda happily obliged in this quest to overwhelm gamers’ senses. Setting his sights high, Sakoda aimed to achieve something he felt hadn’t been done before: the world’s first heavy metal game soundtrack – or in his words, a “heavy metal suite” that could stand on its own outside of the game as a unified piece of work. Working within the confines of Genesis FM synthesis posed obvious challenges, but Sakoda met them head-on. He spent a month creating his FM guitar sound and via trial and error identified ways to give the synthesised instruments the feel of being played by humans, such as “a modulation envelope to evoke the feel of a human arm strumming”. Company leadership’s attempts to add traditional Japanese instrument sounds to the soundtrack were met with Sakoda’s determined resistance.

MUSHA Soundtrack

Given the results, it’s impossible to disagree with his choice to keep the MUSHA soundtrack a pure-breed metal beast. Sakoda aimed to create “heavy, dangerous songs that left an impact on you” and he succeeds with flying colours, writing some of the most ferocious compositions in all of game music. As foreshadowed by Nakashima, Sakoda adopts speed-metal tempi for much of his work here. Still, he often mixes it with the melodicism and neo-classical leanings of artists like Van Halen and Iron Maiden (something that came naturally to Sakoda as a classically trained guitarist). The resulting mix lands MUSHA firmly in power metal territory – and while it’s up for debate whether MUSHA was indeed the first heavy metal game score, it is most definitely one of the very best.

Sakoda’s fondness for metal’s potential to super-charge the on-screen action was already on display in Aleste 2 and Devil’s Crush. The problem was that Aleste 2’s metal-flavoured boss tracks suffered from thin material (and some really monotonous rhythms), while Devil’s Crush featured one of the most excellent compositions to grace the TurboGrafx – but unfortunately not much else. The MUSHA soundtrack is a much better-developed example of Sakoda’s vision for a metal game score. Indeed, his work feels like a fully-fledged, first-rate power metal album that happens to be played through FM synthesis.

Most shooters begin proceedings on an upbeat, empowering note with their first stage theme. However, Sakoda chooses to let the music engulf gamers right away via the blazing intensity of “Fullmetal Fighter”. Speed metal-style drumming and genre-typical staccato 32-note riffing set pulses racing right from the start, and things get only more hair-raisingly full-on when Sakoda layers dissonant, sometimes downright manic leads on top of this fiery foundation. And just as the music reaches peak intensity, Sakoda unleashes his heroic B section, with a comparatively simple, immediately stirring lead melody that most countries would be happy to adopt as their national anthem. It’s textbook power metal, executed to a level of excellence previously unseen in video game music.

Other tracks repeat this mix of note-shredding leads and more melody-driven B sections, which harness the music’s rocket-like propulsion and take it through the stratosphere. “Armed Armor” goes further still, with one of the soundtrack’s most virtuoso guitar soli topping off the chorus, soaring above the constantly hammering rhythm guitars. Final stage track “Aggressive Attack” manages to take things a notch higher still. The galloping drumming and syncopated rhythm guitar accents make this a head-spinningly breathless flight, while the rousing melody leads now must struggle to be heard over the rhythm section’s onslaught. That is, until Sakoda unleashes the soundtrack’s most expansive melody – creating the perfect mix between a merciless assault on the senses and melodic redemption.

MUSHA Soundtrack

Of course, Sakoda is more than able to vary his approach throughout the MUSHA soundtrack. Other level tracks like “Galvanic Gear” and “Divine Devise” adopt slower, stomping tempi and a more atmospheric approach in their melodies to contrast with the score’s high-energy aesthetic. “Galvanic Gear” is a perfect example of how much more varied Sakoda’s drum work is than in earlier genre exercises like Aleste 2. Meanwhile, “Divine Devise” showcases the composer’s virtuoso handling of the Genesis’ sound chip during the revving-up guitar effects just before the loop.

Boss battle tracks equally evince creativity. On one end of the spectrum is “Stratospheric Struggle”, which must be one of the blindingly fast game music pieces ever penned, opening with an astonishing bass line that sets the tone for this blistering cue. On the other end of the spectrum, we find “Phase of the Phantom”. It cranks up the tension not by breaking speed records, but instead through its thick atmosphere of dread, courtesy of industrial undertones, liberal use of dissonances and extreme, disorienting changes in timbres, from a high-pitched, nervous lead to a buzzing bass oscillation.

Commensurate with the astounding complexity of the MUSHA soundtrack’s arrangements, Sakoda never turns the music into a blunt object of sheer force. Instead, he injects even the score’s most forceful moments with intriguing details – take the squalling rhythm guitars on “Stratospheric Struggle” that subtly but effectively provide counter-rhythms to the relentless melody leads and drums. In fact, Sakoda consistently uses his rhythm guitars not just to power the music along, but also to make it more complex still through additional melodic counterpoint and polyrhythms.

The best example of this approach is “Noh Specter” – the soundtrack’s longest track and the one where the sheer density of Sakoda’s writing approaches prog metal territory. Melody leads change every few seconds as Sakoda puts together a breathtakingly dramatic track that climaxes in a glorious over-the-top finale as two harmonising guitars shred through some of the fastest arpeggios the Genesis’ sound chip allows for. It’s one of the countless occasions on which the MUSHA soundtrack proudly showcases the precise, powerful guitar tone Sakoda has achieved through his hard work. Significantly less warm and earthy than the SNES’ guitar tone (see Mystic Ark’s “Hey! Don’t Attack Me!” for a handy comparison), MUSHA’s guitars are harsher and more brittle. While this wouldn’t work for any guitar-driven rock style, it perfectly suits the aggression of an 80s power/speed metal score like MUSHA. Chiptunes metal probably never got better than this.

01 - Theme of MUSHA Aleste (Opening) Sakoda, Toshiaki 2:37
02 - Fullmetal Fighter (Round 1) Sakoda, Toshiaki 2:34
03 - Galvanic Gear (Round 2) Sakoda, Toshiaki 3:04
04 - Phase of the Phantom (Round 2 Boss) Sakoda, Toshiaki 0:59
05 - Armed Armor (Round 3) Sakoda, Toshiaki 3:11
06 - Divine Devise (Round 4) Sakoda, Toshiaki 3:10
07 - Stratospheric Struggle (Round 4, 5, 6 Boss) Sakoda, Toshiaki 1:57
08 - Noh Specter (Round 5) Sakoda, Toshiaki 3:58
09 - Offensive Overdrive (Round 6) Sakoda, Toshiaki 1:41
10 - Aggressive Attack (Round 7) Sakoda, Toshiaki 3:26
11 - Alpha Wave (Ending) Sakoda, Toshiaki 1:29
12 - For The Love of... (Ending) Sakoda, Toshiaki 3:22

Phantom 2040 Soundtrack (Sega Genesis)

Phantom 2040 Soundtrack (Sega Genesis), Matt Scott / Burke Trieschmann, 1995

Phantom 2040 probably never stood a chance. Firstly, it was released towards the end of the 16-bit era on SNES and Sega Genesis. Secondly, it was based on the TV series spin-off of a comic book licence that wasn’t hugely popular at that time to begin with. It was no surprise then that Phantom 2040 was largely ignored by gamers – but it did find some traction amongst contemporary reviewers. And over the years, the game’s reputation only seems to have grown. With its ambitiously non-linear, Metroidvania-style level design, Phantom 2040 has now widely come to be regarded as a forgotten gem of the SNES and Genesis game libraries.

Just as outstanding as the game itself is the Phantom 2040 soundtrack – although that only applies to the Genesis version. This is where things get a bit murky as to who was responsible for what. Matt Scott and Burke Trieschmann are credited for the music and sound effects of the SNES and Genesis ports of the game. However, the two soundtracks could hardly be any more different from each other. Where the Genesis score impresses with its white-knuckle intensity, the SNES music is consistently dull, with average sample quality and none of the Genesis version’s energy.

There is some reason to assume that Trieschmann handled the Genesis port, and Scott the SNES game. The raw, powerful industrial metal of Phantom 2040 on the Genesis has plenty of precedents in Trieschmann’s oeuvre (for example Total Eclipse) – but none in Scott’s discography, which before Phantom 2040 mainly focused on handheld platforms. The SNES version is somewhat in line with Scott’s other soundtracks on that console. For the purpose of this review, we will assume that Trieschmann handled the Genesis version of the Phantom 2040 soundtrack.

And what a soundtrack it is – one of the densest, most creative rock scores of the 16-bit era. Trieschmann once more applies what seemed to be his favourite musical template at the time – industrial metal. However, compared to earlier scores like Total Eclipse or Off-World Interceptor, he is happy to experiment more here, moving towards more challenging, less melodic compositions.

That might be the result of the larger canvas Trieschmann gets to paint on here – the story of a sci-fi metropolis on the brink of ecological and societal collapse (a story told in fairly substantial detail during the game’s cutscenes). The harsh wall of grinding machine sounds that Trieschmann unleashes on the Phantom 2040 soundtrack is of course entirely appropriate to underscore the futuristic scenario of a dangerous, nearly overwhelming concrete and steel jungle. The mood of Trieschmann’s music – usually somewhere between sombre and maniacally driven, ready to explode at any time – does its bit to potently evoke a dystopian future.

Trieschmann cleverly eases listeners into the Phantom 2040 soundtrack though before tightening the screws. “Title Screen” references the character’s roots through what sounds like a grittier version of a TV cartoon series theme song. Its lead melody is appropriately catchy and determined, rendered on the Genesis’ sound chip with just the right amount of abrasiveness so that it fits into the soundtrack’s overall style. Here and elsewhere during the score’s early parts, Trieschmann merges New Jack Swing and industrial rhythms with ease – the former tying in Phantom 2040 with many other game scores of the early 1990s. As a result, “Chapter 1” and “Chapter 2 – Maximum Building” are grooving rather than stomping, working at mid-tempo speeds and happy to have this electro/funk hybrid led by clearly identifiable melodies.

But there’s more to the Phantom 2040 soundtrack than smoothly executed 16-bit action scoring conventions – Trieschmann has plans to pull this music into shadowy places few of its contemporaries dared enter. “New Password Get!” announces Trieschmann’s ambitions with syncopated layers of stuttering rhythms and eerie synth glissandi. Its jittery, nervous tension marks “New Password Get!” as a not-so-distant cousin to David Wise’s original Battletoads soundtrack. The main difference between these two scores is that Wise confounded expectations by consciously underplaying the game’s action elements. Trieschmann, on the other hand, defies conventions by taking the opposite approach. He seems willing to go to any length to crank up the tension, pushing the music’s intensity far beyond what the on-screen action demands.

“Chapter 2 – Ship Factory” first heralds Trieschmann’s uncompromising approach, now moving away from the New Jack Swing influences and focusing squarely on electronic beats and industrial metal drum patterns. Melodies start to turn into nervy ostinato that don’t provide much in terms of memorable hooks, but instead add more urgency and drive to the already busy compositions. It’s on “Chapter 4 – Biot Factory” that the Phantom 2040 soundtrack reveals its true intentions. Initially more of a mood setter, the cue is more foreboding and menacing than previous tracks – and then Trieschmann goes for broke. Ultra-fast double bass beats mercilessly hammer the music onwards, while a rising, dissonant melody motif poisons the air with dread and claustrophobia, to the point where the tension becomes almost unbearable.

From here onwards, Trieschmann writes some of the most challenging, aggressive material penned for a 16-bit score – a compilation of punishing, syncopated industrial rhythms and discordant melodies desperately trying to cut through the churning mayhem. The music grows increasingly chaotic, with the rhythmic structure of “Chapter 4 – Lab” initially almost falling apart. What little melodic material is left becomes more and more fragmented, hardly able to stand its ground on “Chapter 6” against the relentless rhythmic onslaught and barely allowed to complete any kind of melodic progression. When melodies form – like on “Second Boss” – they feel panicked and rushed, nearly tripping over while fleeing from some inescapable menace. Yet despite this flurry of borderline abrasive musical activity, Trieschmann’s compositions maintain their powerful momentum – visceral gut punches rather than cerebral exercises.

The fact that Trieschmann uses the GEMS sound driver in ways that produce fuzzy, somewhat lo-fi textures and beats actually works in the score’s favour. The result has a grimey grittiness that perfectly underscores the game’s world and narrative – and it contributes to the soundtrack’s suffocatingly effective wall-of-sound approach. There’s no doubt that the Phantom 2040 soundtrack is one exhausting listen. However, it combines compositional smarts, a willingness to challenge and the ability to pull absolutely no punches like few other game scores.

01 - Title Screen Matt Scott / Burke Trieschmann 2:02
02 - New Password Get! Matt Scott / Burke Trieschmann 3:49
03 - Chapter 1 Matt Scott / Burke Trieschmann 4:32
04 - Chapter 2 (Maximum Building) Matt Scott / Burke Trieschmann 3:58
05 - Chapter 2 (Ship Factory) Matt Scott / Burke Trieschmann 3:51
06 - First Boss Matt Scott / Burke Trieschmann 4:21
07 - Chapter 3 Matt Scott / Burke Trieschmann 3:01
08 - Chapter 4 (Biot Factory) Matt Scott / Burke Trieschmann 3:47
09 - Chapter 4 (Lab) Matt Scott / Burke Trieschmann 3:18
10 - Second Boss Matt Scott / Burke Trieschmann 3:38
11 - Chapter 5 Matt Scott / Burke Trieschmann 3:20
12 - Chapter 6 Matt Scott / Burke Trieschmann 3:40
13 - Third Boss Matt Scott / Burke Trieschmann 2:27

Skeleton Krew Soundtrack (Sega Genesis)

Skeleton Krew Soundtrack (Sega Genesis), Nathan McCree, 1995

Games released at the end of a console’s life cycle often end up somewhat lost to the ravages of time – not entirely forgotten by posterity maybe, but still mostly passed over for the incoming generation of new platforms. Core Design‘s Skeleton Krew (we’re deep in the midst of 1990s edginess) is one such title. An isometric shooter for the Sega Genesis, Amiga and Amiga CD32, Skeleton Krew failed to elicit much interest from gamers and reviewers back in 1995. Its gameplay featured few innovations, while Skeleton Krew’s six levels meant the fun was over fairly quickly. The game’s one standout feature was its presentation (once you looked past Skeleton Krew’s slightly desperate attempt to be all dark, violent and gritty). Creative use of the Amiga and Genesis’ colour palettes, highlighting the surreal H.R. Giger-inspired bio-mechanical artwork, set the game apart from the competition.

And then there were the soundtracks. For the Amiga CD32 version, Martin Iveson composed a jazz/trip-hop score, mirroring what was en vogue in contemporary music when Skeleton Krew was in development. The soundtrack for the Genesis port went for a more esoteric approach. It was written by Nathan McCree, who just came off Star Wars homage Soulstar. Now he would deliver a work that was almost the complete opposite to that earlier game’s busy orchestral sounds. Given the time of Skeleton Krew’s release and its genre, one might have expected an industrial metal or techno score. Instead, McCree goes for something very different: glitchy, dark ambient compositions, a genre that’s immensely difficult to pull off successfully, particularly on a technologically limited platform like the Sega Genesis. As such, McCree’s work is almost unique among 16-bit soundtracks.

What the Skeleton Krew soundtrack seeks to achieve isn’t a rush of adrenaline, but instead a very specific mood: oppressive, crawling with fear and paranoia, yet energised by a sense of forward movement that prevents the music from becoming too static and suffocating. McCree builds most of his compositions around minimalist combinations of synth pulses that can function as ostinati or short melodic motifs. “Opening Theme” sets the template for the entire score, with its lugubrious synth ostinato forming the base for other ostinati building on top of it. Locking into complex rhythmic layers, these pulses create a surprisingly sound collage-like composition that isn’t afraid to venture into thorny, dissonant episodes.

To deliver its full atmospheric impact, this kind of music requires immense attention to detail from the composer, and McCree certainly delivers. Firstly, the Skeleton Krew soundtrack is one of the best-sounding Genesis scores – sample those ground-shaking bass synth pads on several tracks that open up like black holes to swallow the music wholesale, belying the soundtrack’s usually low-key nature. Also, few 16-bit scores make such fastidious use of the stereo field. McCree spreads his instruments across the full width of the stereo soundscape, achieving an immense sense of space and scope – but more importantly, he disorients listeners, with his synth pulses moving unpredictably from speaker to speaker.

There are other ways in which the Skeleton Krew soundtrack keeps listeners on edge. On several tracks, McCree uses two ostinati as the foundation of the composition – one playing on the left stereo channel, one playing on the right. “Stage 1: Monstrocity” beautifully demonstrates the results of this technique. At times, those two synth pulses run alongside each other in different metres, creating the sort of counterpoint that rhythmically destabilises the cue while also being the only thing that holds it together. On other occasions, McCree has the two pulses playing almost, but not entirely, on the same beat – the two layers remain tantalisingly out of sync and perplexing. The result is a subtly nagging feeling that something’s not quite right with the piece’s foundation, but it’s difficult to put the finger on what exactly turns the music disconcerting.

The various ways in which McCree configures the Skeleton Krew soundtrack’s rhythmic layers accounts for much of its appeal. “Stage 5: Venus” maintains interest through its markedly jerkier, more syncopated base rhythm. It then adds two racing pulses on top of a grating synth figure to take the music’s rhythmic complexity and resulting disorientation to a new level. Final level track “Stage 6: Kadaver’s Base” raises the bar further with wandering synth pulses that uncomfortably rise in pitch before they clash in the score’s most aggressively competing rhythms. Even so, the music never breaks into obvious theatrics – instead, it just keeps building its atmosphere of dread, patiently and relentlessly. On other occasions, McCree opts for a more outwardly forceful approach – for example when “Stage 3: Sewer Duct” merges techno elements into the score’s mood-driven template before culminating in almost unbearably shrill dissonances.

The Skeleton Krew soundtrack manages to captivate not just because of its clever use of minimalist rhythms and timbres but also because it creates such a potently dystopian atmosphere. Forlorn, melancholic synth pads ebb and swell through these cues like roving searchlights in the abyss – at times, the score plays like a sombre, twisted step-brother of Vangelis’ Blade Runner. “Stage 4: Mars” may be the soundtrack’s most ambient track, but it’s also intensely poignant, its swooshing sound effects evoking solar winds blowing in the utterly lonesome depths of space. “Stage 2: Elevator Shaft” makes more unsettling use of machine-like sound effects as they gnaw away at the fabric of the cue, which sounds more insecure than ever before.

None of these cues overtly tug at the heartstrings. Still, with the same consummate subtlety that governs the entire score, McCree ensures that the music is a cerebral experience and an emotional one. There’s nothing noisy or shouty about the Skeleton Krew soundtrack, but maybe that’s why it leaves such an indelible mark.

01 - Opening Theme McCree, Nathan 3:33
02 - Stage 1: Monstrocity McCree, Nathan 3:25
03 - Stage 2: Elevator Shift McCree, Nathan 3:21
04 - Stage 3: Sewer Duct McCree, Nathan 3:23
05 - Stage 4: Mars McCree, Nathan 2:54
06 - Stage 5: Venus McCree, Nathan 3:04
07 - Stage 6: Kadaver's Base McCree, Nathan 2:44
08 - Ending Theme McCree, Nathan 3:30

T2: The Arcade Game Soundtrack (Sega Genesis)

T2: The Arcade Game Soundtrack (Sega Genesis), Matt Furniss, 1993

Game developers certainly didn’t pass up the opportunity to make the most of the blockbuster juggernaut that was Terminator 2: Judgment Day. At the time the third-highest grossing movie worldwide (behind Star Wars and E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial), James Cameron’s work prompted numerous video game adaptations. In fact, when Midway ported their arcade rail shooter Terminator 2: Judgment Day to home consoles, they had to change its name to T2: The Arcade Game, to differentiate it from the already existing T2 games. That didn’t stop Midway Manufacturing Company from porting the game to as many platforms as possible – even to those that don’t seem like obvious candidates for a rail shooter (the Game Boy?)

The arcade original, with its polished presentation, remains fondly remembered. The reception of its many ports was quite varied. The Genesis adaptation fared well enough, with reviewers agreeing it offered a fun opportunity to blast away at robots – as long as you didn’t mind the inherently limited rail shooter gameplay. As was often the case at the time, each port received an original soundtrack – and the Genesis game was lucky enough to be scored by Matt Furniss.

The year prior, Furniss had scored the Genesis, Game Gear and Sega Master System versions of The Terminator. Those soundtracks – despite their obvious qualities – were a bit too short on substance to qualify as classics (although Furniss coaxed some imposing, hefty bass sounds out of the Game Gear and Master System). The T2: The Arcade Game soundtrack is Furniss’ strongest entry in the franchise, the best T2: The Arcade Game score and an intriguing addition to the Terminator franchise’s musical universe. While Geoff Follin and Tommy Tallarico used their franchise assignments to write either experimental sound collages or 80s-inspired, hook-laden pop/rock, Furniss takes the most obvious approach: an all-guns-blazing, unrelenting action score.

Like the game, the T2: The Arcade Game soundtrack knows not to outstay its welcome. Clocking in at less than 15 minutes, the score hits hard from the get-go. Furniss’ masterful handling of the Genesis’ Yamaha YM2612 sound chip is well-known, and T2: The Arcade Game might be one of his crowning achievements. Each instrument has both a crystal-clear sound and a powerful presence that are an absolute delight. Fitting for a game with such an industrial, futuristic narrative, it’s particularly the percussion that steals the spotlight and not surprisingly, Furniss builds his tracks around densely layered rhythms. The drum sounds that Furniss teases out of the Genesis hardware are stunningly forceful and crisp. If one was to look for a demonstration of where the Genesis surpassed the SNES’ sound capacities, the T2: The Arcade Game soundtrack would be a prime example.

Right from the start, “Mission 1”’s hard-hitting drums ramp up the energy and tension. They contrast nicely with the more measured synth lines that at times turn surprisingly melodic, ringing out like majestic guitar chords. This explosive mix is bolstered by a busy, supple bass that allows Furniss to keep this mix of energetic and cinematically sweeping elements constantly moving. While Furniss obviously knows how to write adrenaline-driven compositions, there’s no shortage of melodies and potent atmospherics on the T2: The Arcade Game soundtrack.

On later tracks, Furniss varies his compositions by changing the nature of their rhythmic attack. “Mission 2” and “Mission 4” make extensive use of syncopations and poly-rhythmic percussion layers, moving the previously hard rock-tinged music closer towards prog rock and dance music. Furniss marries this outburst of frantic energy with more fragmented melodies – they help guide listeners through these whirlwind compositions that keep delivering new ideas at a frightening pace. On the short, trenchant “Mission 4”, Furniss is happy to indulge in the music’s disorienting effect, with an erratic synth lead that contributes to the panic-stricken mood. On “Mission 2”, he anchors his cue through a constantly pumping bassline that feels more threatening than empowering. Of course, “Boss Theme” turns out to be the soundtrack’s fastest, most single-minded track and its hyperactive bass and furious speed are really all it requires to sustain its short run time.

The T2: The Arcade Game soundtrack changes its tack a bit on “Mission 3” and “Mission 5”, turning into something a bit more grooving. “Mission 3” opens with a head-nodding hip hop influence, while the synth leads become more active and intricate. Once more, Furniss builds a potently claustrophobic, dystopian atmosphere and underpins it with a complex rhythmic web – pay attention to the snare that travels between the stereo speakers, subtly enhancing the soundscape.

Final level track “Mission 5” turns out to be the T2: The Arcade Game soundtrack’s most intriguing cue. For the first time, Furniss sets the scene rather than jumping into the action right away – it’s the melodic outburst at 0:48 after a relatively quiet start that really brings the track to life. Furniss delivers an anthemic tune, but its chromatic resolution and the impossibly heavy bass chords gnawing at the music drag the melody down just as it is about to soar. This kind of emotional complexity comes unexpected, but it’s another example of Furniss’ exemplary attention to detail on what is one of the Sega Genesis’ most vividly realised scores.

01 - Mission 1 Furniss, Matt 2:16
02 - Mission 2 Furniss, Matt 2:05
03 - Mission 3 Furniss, Matt 2:18
04 - Mission 4 Furniss, Matt 1:19
05 - Mission 5 Furniss, Matt 2:38
06 - Boss Theme Furniss, Matt 1:17