SEGA Saturn Archives - The Greatest Game Music

Enemy Zero Soundtrack, Michael Nyman, 1996

Few video game auteurs have left an oeuvre as intriguing – and divisive – as Kenji Eno. Eno fittingly came to prominence during one of experimental game design’s heydays – the mid 1990s. His company Warp became best known in the West for its D series of horror games: D, Enemy Zero and D2. Only very loosely connected with each other, these games proposed innovative gameplay and story ideas – arguably to various degrees of success. However, these titles did ultimately cement Eno’s name in game history for their unbridled audacity.

It’s certainly not Enemy Zero’s story line that is its most innovative component. The game’s narrative – a spaceship is overrun by murderous xenomorphs – takes entire portions of Alien and mixes in bits and pieces of other sci-fi classics such as Blade Runner. Far more interesting is the game’s central game play mechanic. The rampaging aliens are invisible and the only way to find and shoot them is to rely on a sonar-like system that indicates their location through changes in pitch and frequency. It was an ingenious idea that some reviewers found was implemented less smoothly than it should have been, making for one hell of a difficult game.

Usually, Eno wrote the music for his games himself. However, on Enemy Zero he outsourced scoring duties to a composer who was a less than likely choice for a survival horror game soundtrack: Michael Nyman. A renowned minimalist classical and film composer, Nyman had risen to mainstream prominence through his collaborations with director Peter Greenaway. Being able to bring Nyman on board was arguably quite a coup for Eno. This was only a few years after Nyman’s score for The Piano had sold hundreds of thousands of copies and the composer was at the height of his name recognition.

What Nyman ultimately delivered is a product that is both groundbreaking and deeply familiar. One might assume that working in a genre Nyman had never remotely touched before – sci-fi horror – would encourage him to explore new aspects of his signature minimalist style. That’s not the case on the Enemy Zero soundtrack though. The work is very much in line with Nyman’s previous movie scores that intricately layered classically-inspired motifs, ostinati and drones in unusual tone colours, often driven by breathlessly motoric rhythms. But then again, Eno hired Nyman because he liked his previous works, so a repetition of what’s been heard before is no surprise.

On the other hand, within the realm of game music, Nyman’s score is unique and arguably the only example of this particular brand of orchestral music. It is music that is not that unusual in itself, but certainly is within its context (of underscoring a sci-fi horror game). But how does Nyman’s cerebral, if accessible style work within a genre such as survival horror that is usually home to far more dissonant, harsh sounds?

As it turns out, Nyman’s score – one of his most melodic soundtracks – is a fine match for the game and its genre, but it shifts the focus away from some of the elements survival horror scores usually highlight. Just look at the various themes running through the Enemy Zero soundtrack (it bears mention that this score is significantly more thematic than Nyman’s previous movie works). Out of the three themes presented, it is the love theme that receives the most attention. It’s not a narrative element that horror games usually highlight, but there is a love story running through Enemy Zero and Nyman chooses to emphasise this aspect of the story line, rather than the alien terror and horror.

Presented like all three themes in a piano-only rendition that feels a bit lightweight to hold attention, the love theme is actually first heard on “Aspects of Love”. The composition is a thickly flowing string adagio full of heaving emotions and with an appropriate sense of foreboding. A strained, nearly tortured rendition of the theme on accented string chords opens “Agony”. The cue returns the melody at a time of crisis and under attack, carried by a wordless solo soprano battling alternately jabbing and dissonantly floating musical forces. Suitably, “The Last Movement” resolves all conflict by building its structure around elating renditions of the love theme.

The fact that the second prominent theme on the Enemy Zero soundtrack is that of its protagonist (Laura) shows how much more character-centric Nyman’s work is compared to the usual horror genre fare. Laura’s theme is probably the Enemy Zero soundtrack’s most immediately recognisable melody, functioning as the score’s calm, reassuring core. Presented first on solo piano on “Laura’s Theme”, it features more fetchingly on “Lamentation”. Here, the solo soprano – as on “Agony” – amplifies the melody’s emotional force through its operatic expression. “Laura’s Dream” underlines the theme’s innate optimism and hope with its tender string and piano orchestration.

It’s this level of emotional impact and involvement that helps the more genre-typical portions of the Enemy Zero soundtrack hit their mark. Now that we care about the characters, we also care about the danger they are in. A chromatically descending theme announces dread on “Digital Tragedy”, “Digital Complex” and “Malfunction”. Ironically – given how much Enemy Zero avoids horror stereotypes – “Digital Tragedy” and “Digital Complex” feel like they are playing too close to genre clichés. “Malfunction” is far stronger, presenting the theme in a fuller orchestration and finding just the right balance between animated nervousness and slowly encroaching unease.

Finally, the Michael Nyman Band unleashes all that built-up tension on a quartet of pieces (“Confusion”, “Enemy Zero”, “Invisible Enemy” and “Battle”). These frantically driven pieces are a masterclass in how to write energetic ostinati-based compositions that despite their obvious repetition never become monotonous, helped by melodies that are dramatic and unusually declamatory (by Nyman’s standards). These pieces are as densely and carefully layered as anything that Nyman has written for the movies. It’s obvious he didn’t treat the Enemy Zero soundtrack with any less care than the works he created in mediums he was more familiar with. These invigorating battle tracks round off one of the game music’s most satisfying subversion of genre expectations.

01 - Confusion Michael Nyman 3:45
02 - Aspects of Love Michael Nyman 3:52
03 - Enemy Zero Michael Nyman 4:20
04 - Lamentation Michael Nyman 3:35
05 - Invisible Enemy Michael Nyman 2:12
06 - Laura's Dream Michael Nyman 4:04
07 - Agony Michael Nyman 3:15
08 - Malfunction Michael Nyman 4:02
09 - Battle Michael Nyman 3:48
10 - The Last Movement Michael Nyman 3:44

Swagman Soundtrack, Nathan McCree, 1997

Nathan McCree‘s body of work is the textbook example of one particular work overshadowing a game composer’s other accomplishments. Of course, we are talking about Tomb Raider and its many sequels, two of which McCree scored himself. Outside of some highlights, these scores don’t play too well outside of the games they accompany, and there are arguably more rewarding works in McCree’s discography. After all, his output ranges from Star Wars homage Soulstar to the creeping menace of Skeleton Krew‘s synth textures. As with so much other early Western game music, an album release was never on the cards for these titles.

Thankfully, once more a mid-90s French game magazine came to the rescue, with one of those promotional CD releases that accompanied many of these publications (see also: Formula 1, Rapid Racer). The particular album in question holds – among other works – the majority of McCree’s work for Swagman. That game is a mostly forgotten action adventure title from Tomb Raider‘s Core Design. Reviews were middling and so it’s understandable that Swagman wouldn’t be on the radar of many game music fans. As it turns out though, the game contains what might well be the best score of McCree’s career.

The game’s narrative – two children fight the Swagman, Prince of Nightmares, in cutely colourful settings – is alternately whimsical and moody. As such, it suggests a ready-made musical template. And indeed, McCree initially opts for the obvious Elfmanesque Gothic-lite mode (still relatively fresh in 1997) to underscore the game. Spooky atmospherics mix with comedic elements that add cheekiness and puckish humour to the sombre choirs and organs through their jazzy attitude and bouncy rhythms on xylophone and glockenspiel. What’s immediately impressive is just how well McCree pulls off this particular style, comparable to Paul Arnold and Andrew Barnabas’ MediEvil: Resurrection.

Opening track “The Swagman” sets an ominous tone straight away with a mysterious harp motif, before a pulsing, forward-rolling melody – the score’s main theme – sets in. Like all of McCree’s melodic inventions on Swagman, it’s an attractive, memorable creation. It also displays McCree’s creativity through its unexpected progression, with sudden grace notes suggesting the potential for abrupt, forceful movements. Alternately creeping, elegant, boisterous and menacing, the malleable theme cleverly contrasts with a secondary motif that usually plays as an answer to the main theme to provide contrast – it’s a more light-footed creation usually played on high woodwinds.

Closing track “The Nightmare is Over” revisits the same musical style and not surprisingly moves it into major key territory. However, it does so with sufficient restraint and by using the score’s established instrumental palette. “Dance of the Scallywags” is more single-minded. It squarely puts the emphasis on the parodic tendencies of Swagman’s mock-Gothic style. Its basis is a mischievous, almost obnoxiously bouncy organ motif that refuses to go away.

What truly makes the Swagman soundtrack special is how McCree proves that he has more on his mind than a skilful reiteration of the faux Gothic template. Second track “The Children’s Nursery” is a first indication of where the Swagman soundtrack’s emotional centre lies. The cue opens with a lonely duet for piano and xylophone, set in isolating, echoing surroundings. The music begins to ebb and swell beautifully as a solo violin and then the full string section perform the piece’s lead melody.

What comes through strongest on “The Children’s Nursery” is the children’s fragility and the danger they find themselves in. It’s precisely this character-focused approach that gives Swagman its heart. While most of Swagman is more subdued than its opening track, the score is also emotionally more resonant than expected. At the same time, the soundtrack never forgets to find individual musical approaches for each of its locations.

Take “Down in the Basement”, the Swagman soundtrack’s most intriguing composition. Superficially, it doesn’t seem to consist of much more than downcast string layers. However, a closer listen reveals how skilfully McCree suggests melodies rather than actually executing them, effectively intertwining the melodic and the textural (something that Hitoshi Sakimoto does regularly on his string adagios, if to more melodramatic ends). This ambiguous approach to forming fully-fledged melody lines purposefully denies melodic reassurance. Thus, the loneliness and regret hidden underneath the gloomily floating string and choir lines registers subtly, but in potent fashion.

“Twisty Turny Woods” spells things out more clearly, running essentially as a slowed down version of “The Swagman”. Textures turn thinner and shiver in the icy atmosphere blown in by the wind sound effects and organ chords. Despite the barren mood and a more rigid progression, there is still some life left in the score’s main theme. Fighting its way from lonely flute solo to dramatic heights, the theme manages to ultimately reaffirm its presence. Once more appearing on “In the Tunnels”, the main theme establishes itself as the score’s binding force. It helps to make the Swagman soundtrack an outstanding example of Western orchestral game music. Don’t miss this work if you enjoy memorable melodies, potent atmospherics and flawlessly developed compositions, clad in flexible, uncluttered textures.

01 - The Swagman Nathan McCree 3:31
02 - The Children's Nursery Nathan McCree 3:41
03 - Dance of the Scallywags Nathan McCree 2:41
04 - Down in the Basement Nathan McCree 3:17
05 - Twisty Turny Woods Nathan McCree 3:45
06 - In the Tunnels Nathan McCree 3:20
07 - The Nightmare is Over Nathan McCree 2:42
08 - Track 8 Nathan McCree 3:42
09 - Track 9 Nathan McCree 3:38