Shoot'em Up Archives - The Greatest Game Music

Cowboy Bebop Soundtrack

Cowboy Bebop Soundtrack, Yoko Kanno, 1998

After a somewhat rocky start (that initially didn’t even see all episodes screened), Cowboy Bebop went on to become one of anime’s cultural milestones – on both sides of the Pacific. Setting itself apart from almost anything else produced for TV animation in either Japan or the USA, Cowboy Bebop merged disparate genres and visual styles in ways that helped the series introduce many new Western viewers to anime. Its cross-cultural appeal was partially based on its use of tropes that were familiar to Western audiences – Western, pulp fiction, film noir and cyberpunk (all within a space opera setting). Shinichirou Watanabe’s creation turned out to be popular enough to spawn a movie sequel and feature on many ‘best of’ lists in the years that followed.

As one would guess by looking at the series’ title, music played a crucial role in its eclectic aesthetic. Not surprisingly, the collaboration between director and composer on Cowboy Bebop was closer than usually – and the result was one of the most distinctive, attention-grabbing anime scores ever written. After her breakthrough with the orchestral fantasy masterpiece that was The Vision of Escaflowne, Yoko Kanno changed gears in spectacular fashion. Using jazz (and its many permutations) as the basis for Cowboy Bebop, Kanno branched out into a dizzying array of genres. She successfully dappled in everything from blues and metal to country music and opera, matching the series’ free-wheeling stylistic approach. Ultimately, Cowboy Bebop cemented Kanno’s status as one of anime’s foremost composers, able to seemingly nail just about any musical genre.

With the series pulled out of development hell by multimedia company Bandai Visual, it was no surprise that a video game adaptation was released even before Cowboy Bebop became such a rousing success. Released for Sony’s PlayStation by developer BEC (Bandai Entertainment Company) just a month after Cowboy Bebop first aired, the game was decidedly less creative than the series. Taking its cue from titles like Starfox, Cowboy Bebop was adapted into a straightforward third-person rail shooter, with gamers controlling protagonist Spike Spiegel’s spaceship Swordfish II. Released only in Japan, the game didn’t seem to leave much of an impression – but thankfully, it did feature an original score by Kanno (rather than just a reworking of her music for the series). Curiously enough, the game soundtrack never received an official release – an absolute rarity in Kanno’s body of work.

Where would Kanno take the Cowboy Bebop soundtrack, after having explored so many musical genres already? As it turns out, her choice isn’t that surprising – to underscore the game’s shooter action, Kanno goes with heavy metal as her main inspiration. While Cowboy Bebop features few stylistic surprises and is nowhere near as creative as the TV series’ music, this game score still takes a special place in Kanno’s discography. Nowhere else in her entire oeuvre has Kanno focused so strongly on metal (Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex featured its fair share of growling guitars, but in a much grungier, industrial vein).

As such, the Cowboy Bebop soundtrack mostly lacks the kind of emotional and tonal subtlety that characterises so much of Kanno’s work. Her aim here is a different one – to write a bunch of melodic, upbeat metal instrumentals and she succeeds with flying colours. While her game music for Cowboy Bebop isn’t particularly profound, Kanno’s arrangements are as dense and carefully crafted as one would have come to expect. This helps her raucous cues to flow seamlessly between song sections and always sustain their fairly substantial running time. Her compositions’ pacing is helped by the fact that due to the game’s linear rail-shooter format, Kanno can (mostly) write songs with a specific length.

“Stage 1/2 (Part One)” and “Stage 1/2 (Part Two)” quickly demonstrate just how accessible and fun the Cowboy Bebop soundtrack is. Launching into a searing attack from the entire band (including rock organ), Kanno herself soon takes centre stage on keyboards, as she audibly enjoys churning out some big, glossy 80s synth hooks that land the music fairly close to hair metal territory. At this early stage, the Cowboy Bebop soundtrack registers as Kanno’s most pop-influenced work, with a steady supply of catchy, anthemic melodies that turn into sky-high declarations of victory once powered by the blazing metal backing.

In fact, most tracks here sound like roaring band jams that keep energy levels high at all times and also give other instruments the chance to improvise and shine. “Stage 1/2 (Part Two)” is particularly indebted to delicious 80s cheese, relying on its pop-infused grooves to straddle the divide between the chrome shine of its synth hooks and the grittiness of its fiery metal instrumentation. Kanno’s keyboard work again mostly focuses on the repetition of memorable, short phrases.

That said, a longer keyboard solo towards the end of “Stage 1/2 (Part Two)” points towards the transformation that the score is about to undergo. There’s no huge stylistic change afoot, but after “Level 3/4 (Part One)” opens with a triumphant synth clarion call that takes after Van Halen’s “Jump”, the cue makes space for more virtuoso keyboard parts that now move the music towards prog metal. It’s not a big surprise, considering Kanno’s trademark dense arrangements and playing skills. Thankfully, “Level 3/4 (Part One)” never loses the soaring quality and hooky rush of adrenaline that makes the Cowboy Bebop soundtrack such a joy to listen to.

The synths change style again on “Level 3/4 (Part Two)”, now aiming for space rock’s laid-back sense of wonder and otherworldliness. Floating, wordless female voices contrast nicely with the still densely jam-packed arrangements and lead into a majestically gliding mid-section – before the band launches into a ferocious finale full of neo-classical soloing that still maintains a good amount of cheery melodicism. Kanno increases this stylistic tilt on “Level 5/6 (Part One)”, again subtly changing the music’s style and tweaking it towards power metal when she layers more operatic female vocals on top of the particularly dramatic metal arrangements. “Level 5/6 (Part Two)” then decides to simply go for the jugular, presenting itself as the album’s most straightforward, chugging rocker that delivers all of the showboating and head-banging intensity you could ask for.

There’s one more aspect to the Cowboy Bebop soundtrack and its quality is a bit more dubious. Each level cue ends with a boss segment – and Kanno is on audibly less secure footing when forced to write music with no clearly defined end point (as the boss fights could take any amount of time). Earlier tracks don’t fair too badly – while the boss segments on “Level 1/2 (Part One)” and “Level 1/2 (Part Two)” don’t develop much, they are appropriately sharp and don’t overstay their outcome. On “Level 1/2 (Part Two)”, Kanno even experiments a bit, crafting an unlikely combination of syncopated big drum beats and another 70s prog rock keyboard solo. Later on, these boss segments turn more humdrum, meandering along with an anonymous martial flair and disappointingly vague cinematic ambitions. Thankfully, it’s only a small stain on what’s otherwise another outstanding entry in Kanno’s body of work – a true hidden gem and yet another feather in her cap.

01 - Level 1/2 (Part One) Kanno, Yoko 5:14
02 - Level 1/2 (Part Two) Kanno, Yoko 5:16
03 - Level 3/4 (Part One) Kanno, Yoko 5:03
04 - Level 3/4 (Part Two) Kanno, Yoko 5:03
05 - Level 5/6 (Part One) Kanno, Yoko 4:04
06 - Level 5/6 (Part Two) Kanno, Yoko 3:39
07 - Bonus Track Kanno, Yoko 3:00

Final Soldier Soundtrack

Final Soldier Soundtrack, Masakatsu Maekawa, 1991

There’s no doubt that one of the TurboGrafx-16’s strengths was its stellar line-up of shoot’em ups. However, that also meant any developer who decided to throw their hat in the ring would find it harder to stand out from the crowd. Hudson Soft should have been well-placed to hit the target with Final Soldier, their third entry in the Star Soldier franchise and successor to commercial and critical success Super Star Soldier. Alas, Final Soldier offered little that other shoot’em ups hadn’t already brought to the table. Contemporary reviews agreed that this Japan-only release delivered the polish expected from a Hudson Soft shoot’em up. At the same time, a lower difficulty level meant that the game was over relatively soon for experienced players. A solid, well-designed game rather than a great one, seemed to be the general conclusion.

Scoring duties for the Final Soldier soundtrack went to Masakatsu Maekawa, who had already amassed several years of industry experience by this stage, debuting with 1986’s Metro-Cross (at least he probably did – available sources aren’t entirely clear). A member of developer Now Production since graduating from university, Maekawa was immensely prolific in the 1990s, for example working on Hudson Soft franchises such as Rolling Thunder, Adventure Island and Splatterhouse. Leaving Now Production in 1994 to form his own company Music Worx (a subcontractor for game sound) did little to slow his output during that decade.

In some ways, his Final Soldier soundtrack resembles the game it accompanies, in that it doesn’t innovate in any particular way. Instead, the music focuses on doing what it does really, really well – in fact, much better than the vast majority of similarly styled shoot’em up scores of the era, making this the most substantial score in the entire Star Soldier franchise. The genre inspirations for Final Soldier are obvious – melodic metal, sprinkled with a fair share of pop influences, as well as power metal tendencies (galloping drums and anthemic leads).

So far, so common for early 1990s Japanese shoot’em up scores – but Final Soldier exceeds in two areas. Maekawa’s optimistic, energetic melodies strike the perfect balance between repetition and variety – riding their hooks long enough to make their full impact, while always moving along to the next well-developed tune before the music starts belabouring the point. And these dynamic melodies are all over the Final Soldier soundtrack, keeping the cues on point and pumping them full of substance, despite the tracks’ relatively short running time.

The other secret to the success of the Final Soldier soundtrack is the stellar drumming. Like very few other game composers, Maekawa manages to write synthesised drum tracks that actually sound like a (very talented) human drummer, chock full of creative ad-lib fills and rolls, playing around the beat rather than merely keeping it. In fact, on many cues the drums are effectively the second lead instrument. Together with the vigorous melodies, they turn these cues into full-blown synth metal tracks that happen to be performed on the PC Engine sound hardware (which rarely sounded better than it does here).

If the above points – the melodies and drumming – don’t seem like that much of a big deal, listen to the Star Soldier franchise’s next instalment Soldier Blade. Written in the same style, that soundtrack relies on solid but more repetitive melodies, the rhythms efficient yet more perfunctory. The result is a good score, but undoubtedly a step down from the Final Soldier soundtrack.

And while Maekawa’s approach is generally fairly straightforward – quickly set up high-energy rhythms to back buoyant melodies – he also creates a predictable, but compelling album arc, courtesy of assured changes to the formula. “Taking Off” bursts out of the gate with galloping drums and sing-along leads that quickly establish the music’s 80s pop-metal credentials. A more significant role for steely bass on “Sole Warrior” adds tension and focus to the music, while the bright synth melodies remain joyful and empowering. Staccato elements imbue “Progression” with added drama, helping its upbeat groove to push the proud melodies forward.

From here on, things get increasingly intense. On “Sky High”, melodies and rhythms are more harried and rushing than before, without forsaking the music’s tuneful nature. “Infinity” is the Final Soldier soundtrack’s most extended composition and also its richest, best-developed cue – if you need proof of Maekawa’s outstanding drum programming, head straight here. Particularly exciting is the cue’s B section, with a mechanical bassline powering a thin, precariously placed melody. And while “Into the Core” takes things a step too far by forsaking the music’s usual rhythmic variety and melodic abundance, the preceding level track “Turn On” satisfyingly caps off the score’s careful tightening of the screws. Melodies are now surprisingly dissonant and ghostly, at times rising perilously before nosediving right after having reached their peak. A brief note-shredding passage just before the loop cleverly harnesses all the tension Maekawa has built up so far.

After all this, “Dead or Alive” and “Caravan Stars” (music for the game’s two time-attack modes) don’t add anything new but maintain the score’s nearly consistent level of excellence. Ultimately, the Final Soldier soundtrack doesn’t just register as the Star Soldier franchise’s best score, but also emerges as one of its era’s finest shoot’em up scores – a melodic gem bolstered by virtuoso performances.

01 - Taking Off (Stage 1) Maekawa, Masakatsu 1:56
02 - Sole Warrior (Stage 2) Maekawa, Masakatsu 1:36
03 - Progression (Stage 3) Maekawa, Masakatsu 1:40
04 - Sky High (Stage 4) Maekawa, Masakatsu 1:24
05 - Infinity (Stage 5) Maekawa, Masakatsu 1:58
06 - Turn On (Stage 6) Maekawa, Masakatsu 2:24
07 - Dead Or Alive (2 Minute Game) Maekawa, Masakatsu 1:50
08 - Caravan Stars (5 Minute Game) Maekawa, Masakatsu 1:36

IL-2 Sturmovik: Birds of Prey Soundtrack

IL-2 Sturmovik: Birds of Prey Soundtrack, Jeremy Soule, 2009

IL-2 Sturmovik: Birds of Prey arrived at the tail end of the World War II game genre’s huge popularity. As such, game music fans had witnessed many different approaches to underscoring this most devastating of armed conflicts. Especially Michael Giacchino‘s oeuvre had been a potent display of how to put war into music in various ways.

Jeremy Soule hadn’t worked on a WWII game before Birds of Prey and the same year’s Order of War. However, his fantastic action material on Total Annihilation had a militaristic ferocity and soaring momentum that made him a logical choice to score a flight combat game such as Birds of Prey. True, the game itself didn’t add anything new video games’ depiction of the clash between Allied and Axis forces. However, Soule’s IL-2 Sturmovik: Birds of Prey soundtrack found an approach both novel and rooted in the composer’s previous works.

What Soule attempts is to monumentalise the conflict he’s underscoring – even more so than Giacchino’s Medal of Honor: Frontline. In many of his previous scores, Soule displayed his classical ambitions, realised to varying degrees of success. The IL-2 Sturmovik: Birds of Prey soundtrack is Soule’s most obvious attempt to write a score in reference of classical music’s great masters. It’s a very lofty ambition, particularly for an artist whose oeuvre is characterised so often by atmospheric meanderings. However, Soule pulls off this unexpected feat and writes a work of astounding weight and import.

From “The Engagement” onwards, Soule shows that he is far more interested in achieving a sense of overwhelming awe and grandeur, rather than putting into sound the dizzying motion of combat planes darting through the skies (something that Giacchino’s Secret Weapons Over Normandy was concerned with). Birds of Prey moves at a comparatively slow pace, not trying to impress through agitated energy. Instead, it establishes a majestic presence that feels unstoppable in its heroic might. Such monumentalism comes with its own set of dangers though, as the border separating the sublime and the ridiculous is thin. Thankfully, Soule manages to stay on the right side of the divide.

What precisely is the shape of the classically-inspired sound Soule aims to emulate? Interestingly, on Birds of Prey he deviates from most other ambitious orchestral game soundtracks. These often dazzle with their complexity, be in their textures, themes or other areas. Soule walks down a different path. He bases the majority of the IL-2 Sturmovik: Birds of Prey soundtrack on constantly churning string ostinato rhythms. On top of these, he layers positively towering brass fanfares and melodies, interspersed with beautiful woodwind interludes. It’s an approach clearly derived from Anton Bruckner’s symphonies, whose influence is most clearly felt on “Theatre of the Delusionary”.

This method is a risky one to adopt. In the wrong hands, it could easily result in monotonous, dreary orchestral bombast. And it’s precisely here that Soule triumphs, as he manages to mimic his role models to perfection. In the way these compositions shape their motifs, melodies, rhythms and harmonic progressions, they do sound like the real deal – romantic orchestral works written for the concert hall.

While Birds of Prey lets the brass do almost all of the heavy lifting, this focus never becomes an issue. Soule manages to call upon a never-ending supply of genuinely rousing material. Actually, on few game soundtracks does the brass section get to shine as much as here. The difference is staggering when comparing the quality of the brass writing here to that of many Remote Control-inspired game scores, where this instrument group is often called upon to evoke drama and gravitas in disappointingly lazy fashion. The IL-2 Sturmovik: Birds of Prey soundtrack is nothing less than a master class in how to write for brass.

For proof of the enormous effect that Soule’s approach yields, head straight to “Valor and Triumph”. The piece confronts the listener with what might be the most memorable and bold theme of Soule’s career. His supremely powerful invention is a proud brass melody that has the force of a battering ram. “Valor and Triumph”, in its tremendous sweep achieved through its tidal rise and fall, points to another characteristic of classical music that Soule smartly adopts here: an unwavering sense of careful, unhurried development.

While Soule’s patience characterises the entire album, “Code of Honor” is the best demonstration of this virtue. The track builds over its entire running time from a faint choral opening and tentative French horn melody. It gradually becomes more and more emotional, before it reaches a solemn, deeply-felt climax. “Theatre of the Delusionary” paces itself equally well, quieting down after its thunderous start and building again. Still, the piece delays the big pay-off until the composition’s very end, to cathartic effect.

With this magnificently realised feeling for development also comes a true sense of dynamism, as Soule clearly realises that evocations of musical bombast also need downtimes to make their full impact. There are many examples of when Birds of Prey‘s robust action cues realise it’s best to temporarily quieten down. Take “The Hunt”, which surprises with tender passages for solo cello. It’s yet another example of the chances Soule is willing to take on this album, and the heights to which they can propel his work when he’s at his best.

01 - IL-2 Sturmovik March Jeremy Soule 3:29
02 - The Engagement Jeremy Soule 3:28
03 - The Hunt Jeremy Soule 4:05
04 - Code of Honor Jeremy Soule 4:34
05 - Rain Ghosts Jeremy Soule 3:30
06 - The Great Death Mistress Jeremy Soule 3:13
07 - Theatre of the Delusionary Jeremy Soule 5:28
08 - Chariots of Endearment Jeremy Soule 3:16
09 - Hammer of Defeat Jeremy Soule 2:41
10 - Valor and Triumph Jeremy Soule 4:45
11 - Lament for a Pilot Jeremy Soule 1:04
12 - Victory Jeremy Soule 0:41

Iridion II Soundtrack

Iridion II Soundtrack, Manfred Linzner, 2003

As the new millennium dawned, shoot’em ups were arguably nowhere near as popular as during their heyday of the 1980s and 90s. However, more than enough developers still had a fondness for the genre and kept the flame burning. One such studio was Shin’en Multimedia, founded in 1999 by former members of Amiga demoscene group Abyss. Focusing on Nintendo’s handheld consoles in the early years of their existence, Shin’en turned what had been conceived as a Game Boy shoot’em up into a Game Boy Advance launch title – Iridion 3D. Despite the game’s much-lauded pseudo-3D graphics, reviews were tepid due to frustrating gameplay. Two years later, Iridion II was received much more positively. Its gameplay broke little new ground, but critics agreed that it was a pleasant reminder of the more straightforward shooters of yore – and no review failed to mention Iridion II’s stellar presentation.

Part of this was one of the best-sounding scores ever to grace the Game Boy Advance. For some, this might be damning the Iridion II soundtrack with faint praise, given how difficult the GBA hardware made it to produce music that didn’t sound like a muddy, substandard SNES score. But keeping these hardware limitations in mind elucidates just how much of an accomplishment this soundtrack is. And if you are not familiar with all this technological background, the music’s strengths will quickly help you look past the still somewhat grainy sound of the samples used.

Behind this small marvel was Manfred Linzner, who had already demonstrated his wizardry on chiptunes scores like Fix & Foxi – Episode 1: Lupo. For the GBA, Linzner had developed his own sound driver: the GAX Sound Engine. Thanks to smart programming, GAX addressed two of the GBA’s main sound issues by producing better sample quality (up to 44 kHz) and taxing the system’s CPU less. The latter was important since the GBA didn’t have a dedicated sound chip and music thus had to compete for precious CPU resources with graphics and other assets. Arguably, Linzner must have felt that the way his music was rendered on the original Iridion scores still wasn’t ideal – thus the 2003 arrange album, one of Western game music’s earliest examples of this kind of release.

Still, the Iridion II soundtrack warrants revisiting in its original form – not least because the arrange album doesn’t include all of its material. Like its predecessor, much of Iridion II is a love letter to 80s synth pop and game soundtracks of the era. Yes, this is music that you could drop into any Amiga Turrican game, and it would fit perfectly. Of course, when Chris Hülsbeck wrote those classic soundtracks, he was channelling contemporary mainstream music. A work like Iridion II is conceptually a bit more complicated – it’s the kind of lovingly crafted homage that also updates its stylistic inspirations, connecting it with more modern influences.

It’s also a significantly stronger score than Iridion 3D. That soundtrack sometimes felt like a collection of strong hooks in search of songs that could support them. Iridion II benefits from significantly more fleshed out – yet uncluttered and economical – arrangements supporting the more substantial melodies. And there’s no doubt that what Linzner delivers here are some of the most memorable pop melodies heard in a portable console game. To come back to that earlier Turrican comparison – Iridion II’s tunes are as catchy and its hooks as big as Hülsbeck’s best creations. “Azuki Canyon – Aniki” establishes this winning streak right away with its brightly gleaming melodies and crystalline leads that make for instant stadium singalongs.

And so one half of the Iridion II soundtrack plays like a first-rate Top 40 album from the decade of shiny, outsized synth anthems (with rhythmic backdrops that skew towards more contemporary electronica). Silvery, enthusiastic staccato leads effortlessly carry cues like “Spaceport Alpha – Two Years Gone” and “Spaceport Gamma – Good To Feel”, while Linzner’s arrangements strike just the right balance between unfussy and sufficiently colourful. He doesn’t merely reprise decades-old musical conventions though. “Seigetsu City – Cloudy Stairway” turns its harmonious melody into an insistent, unrelenting figure that never harmonically resolves. Meanwhile, “Space Minefield – Tearing”’s lead starts fairly relaxed with jazzy overtones before it subtly turns more and more aspiring as it soars towards its climax. With so much upbeat music, Iridion II doesn’t seem to care too much about underscoring dramatic space fights – it’s more about entertaining gamers and propelling them towards their goal.

But there’s also the Iridion II soundtrack’s other half, which is more adventurous and less hook-laden. “Silicis Corridor – Crystal Symphony” moves the focus from audacious space flights to mood-building, as various tinkling melody fragments surround a heavy synth groove. Meanwhile, cymbal crashes provide some dramatic interjections just at the right moments. The cue organically adds a sense of mystery and hushed awe to the soundtrack’s energetic palette. Final level cue “Dockbay II – Pure Conscience” twists that sentiment into something much eerier, with a harsh, ticking synth effect that dominates the track. Opening up an uncanny, cavernous space, the constant pulse witnesses an unlikely standoff between a robotic lead and tentatively emerging, almost drone-like notes – yet the music is strikingly emotional and expressive. It’s an astounding example of the kind of musical subtlety and warmth the GBA was capable of in the right hands.

Elsewhere, Linzner effortlessly dabbles in more contemporary electronic music genres that point at his later Nanostray scores. “Dockbay I – Citizen Discharged”’s trance melody, with its majestic feel and broad, synthwave-like chordal backing, gives the track an unexpectedly grand feel, as always bolstered by a lively bass presence. The smoothness of “Zansetsu Clough – Cold Play”’s neo-disco allusions gets a modern makeover through the seductive urban cool and elastic bass of “Tenshi Plains – In My World”.

“Asteroid Field – Spiral Bliss” takes a different approach, reaching even back further into the musical past than other tracks with its almost psychedelic opening that leads into a soothing Mini Moog solo. Yes, even soul grooves aren’t alien to this score – a sign that Linzner ultimately has his sights set higher than emulating and reviving classic video game music. The Iridion II soundtrack needs no qualifier – this is not just one of the best GBA scores, but one of the greatest shoot’em up soundtracks of the 2000s, full stop.

01 - Azuki Canyon - Aniki Linzner, Manfred 3:42
02 - Silicis Corridor - Crystal Sympnony Linzner, Manfred 3:22
03 - Spaceport Alpha - Two Years Gone Linzner, Manfred 2:44
04 - Seigetsu City - Cloudy Stairway Linzner, Manfred 3:40
05 - Zansetsu Clough - Cold Play Linzner, Manfred 3:06
06 - Space Minefield - Tearing Linzner, Manfred 3:06
07 - Spaceport Gamma - Good To Feel Linzner, Manfred 3:16
08 - Dockbay I - Citizen Discharged Linzner, Manfred 3:43
09 - Tenshi Plains - In My World Linzner, Manfred 3:14
10 - Spaceport Delta - Spacebiz Linzner, Manfred 3:44
11 - Kazangan Wasteland - See The Sun Burn Linzner, Manfred 3:38
12 - Asteroid Field - Spiral Bliss Linzner, Manfred 2:54
13 - Kengamine Section - Megalunia Linzner, Manfred 3:22
14 - Dockbay II - Pure Conscience Linzner, Manfred 3:27
15 - Credits - Interstellar Journey Linzner, Manfred 2:55

Lair Soundtrack

Lair Soundtrack, John Debney / Kevin Kaska, 2007

The dichotomy of “bad game, great music” has rarely presented itself more strikingly than in the case of Lair. A much-hyped PlayStation 3 title, Lair crashed and burned due to its unwieldy control scheme. Ultimately, probably the only good things to emerge from the wreckage were Lair’s gorgeous visuals and its excellent music. Written by film score veteran John Debney with support from Kevin Kaska, the Lair soundtrack quickly gathered praise from game music reviewers. In fact, soon the music achieved such acclaim that soundtrack fans clamoured for a complete score release. Their pleas were answered in 2014, when La-La Land Records released a two-disc set of the Lair soundtrack with improved sound, making the previous iTunes release superfluous.

In a way, it’s not a surprise that Debney and Kaska’s work turned out so well. Debney had demonstrated his ability to write outstanding orchestral action music with Cutthroat Island (ironically another financial disaster). Developer Factor 5 was keen to give the game’s fantasy narrative a cinematic, widescreen feel. This led to Debney being hired to provide a suitably grand score. In several interviews, Debney mentioned how much he enjoyed the creative freedom he was given on the project. With a budget to record with full orchestra and several soloists at Abbey Road Studios, Debney made the most of this opportunity to write a score that would be a love letter to the fantasy genre and to Debney’s personal inspirations – John Williams, Jerry Goldsmith, James Horner, Basil Pouledouris and others. As Debney puts it in the album’s liner notes, his aim was to write “Star Wars meets Conan”.

That the influence of these other composers is so keenly felt on the Lair soundtrack has been the most frequently raised criticism of Debney and Kaska’s work. Yes, stylistically this is a derivative score, with Williams’ Star Wars prequel scores casting a particularly long shadow. But the same issue didn’t stop Michael Giacchino’s Medal of Honor from becoming a game music classic. In the end, what Debney and Kaska achieve is to convincingly emulate the works of some of the greatest film composers.

In fact, the Lair soundtrack contains some of the best orchestral action music ever written for a video game. More than a dozen battle tracks, packed with frantic orchestral activity, are the roaring centre piece of the Lair soundtrack. Beginning with “Breaking the Ice”, Debney and Kaska unleash one extraordinarily dense and powerful orchestral power house after the after. This is clearly music by two composers who know how to make use of the orchestra’s full resources.

What’s particularly impressive is how these displays of flurrying noise and fury never turn into the sort of empty bombast that action game music often descends into. Debney and Kaska construct their action tracks from a multitude of short, always engaging melodic and rhythmic phrases. This way, the game’s audio engine can easily chop up the compositions as required. At the same time, the music still flows with purpose outside of the game context and never lacks direction or substance. Simply put, the excitement and rush of adrenaline never cease for one second.

The Lair soundtrack’s fierce battle cues are helped by the exemplary thematic density that Debney and Kaska establish. Debney writes three primary themes for Lair. The first one is for the game’s protagonist, dragon rider Rohn. His theme rings with a predictable, but always effective sense of noble heroism (although the theme’s nearly pastoral rendition on “Rohn’s Theme” is arguably more intriguing). The theme for the game’s antagonist – the Diviner – is equally unsurprising and yet impacting, a brassy march of extraordinary power. Lastly, there’s the solemn theme for the ancient Mokai civilisation, split into two phrases.

Together with a number of sub-themes, these thematic ideas keep swirling through the action pieces. They provide most of the melodic guidance that holds this centrifuge of raw orchestral energy together. It all comes to a head on “Battle for Asylia”. A jaw-droppingly intense confrontation between Rohn’s and the Diviner’s theme, “Battle for Asylia” more than deserves the term “epic”

Indeed, this is a constantly heavy and self-serious score. Everything takes place on a relentlessly gigantic scale, with hardly a moment of levity in sight. Thankfully, Debney and Kaska not only write excellent battle cues. As sequenced on the La-La Land release, the Lair soundtrack alternates between frenzied outbursts and calmer compositions. The result is an album pace that is predictable and yet couldn’t work any better – like so much on Lair.

While Debney and Kaska’s slower pieces are as grandiose as their frenetic counterparts – in their quieter way – these cues explore more emotionally complex territory. The standout composition is “Love Theme”, an impassioned string adagio of nearly religious intensity that recalls Miklós Rózsa. “Prologue” and “Lair Main Menu” perform important feats of world building. Particularly the former creates a potent musical image of the game’s barren, yet awe-inspiring landscapes. Much needed moments of introspection come on “The Search for Food” and “The Last Straw / Campfire Discussion”. Both tracks highlight the contributions that ethnic instruments – duduk and erhu – make to the soundtrack, together with Lisbeth Scott’s heartfelt vocals. These instruments don’t serve to evoke a particular location or culture (different to Debney’s Passion of the Christ). Instead, they summon a more generic sense of ancient otherworldliness. What’s more, they also give Lair’s quite stereotypical fantasy stylings some character and intimacy.

Ultimately, these more reflective compositions create a coherent world and narrative for the action tracks to exist in, giving all the conflict transpiring on the battle cues some meaning. And so, when “Epilogue” ends with a hair-raisingly intense, titanic flourish, the moment actually hits as the triumphant culmination of what indeed has been a monumental adventure.

01 - Lair Main Title John Debney / Kevin Kaska 2:13
02 - Breaking the Ice John Debney / Kevin Kaska 1:31
03 - Prologue John Debney / Kevin Kaska 3:24
04 - Love Theme John Debney / Kevin Kaska 4:01
05 - Diviner Battle John Debney / Kevin Kaska 4:17
06 - Darkness Theme John Debney / Kevin Kaska 3:59
07 - Firestorm John Debney / Kevin Kaska 3:56
08 - Diviner's Theme John Debney / Kevin Kaska 2:09
09 - Blood River John Debney / Kevin Kaska 3:33
10 - The Last Straw John Debney / Kevin Kaska 2:38
11 - Bridge Battle John Debney / Kevin Kaska 3:31
12 - Lair Main Menu John Debney / Kevin Kaska 2:24
13 - Lodan John Debney / Kevin Kaska 1:52
14 - Serpent Strait John Debney / Kevin Kaska 2:28
15 - Rohn's Theme John Debney / Kevin Kaska 2:06
16 - The Search for Food / Campfire Discussion John Debney / Kevin Kaska 3:22
17 - Bridge of the Ancients / The Ice John Debney / Kevin Kaska 2:43
18 - Mokai Camp Attack / Reach Mokai City John Debney / Kevin Kaska 4:30
19 - Defenses Overrun John Debney / Kevin Kaska 2:32
20 - The Holy City of Mokai John Debney / Kevin Kaska 2:16
21 - Return to Mokay City, Pt. I John Debney / Kevin Kaska 1:51
22 - Preparing for Battle / Maelstrom / After Burners John Debney / Kevin Kaska 2:38
23 - Return to Mokay City, Pt. II John Debney / Kevin Kaska 3:44
24 - Mokai Theme John Debney / Kevin Kaska 2:15
25 - Elegy John Debney / Kevin Kaska 3:25
26 - Ruins of Mokai John Debney / Kevin Kaska 1:04
27 - Final Attack John Debney / Kevin Kaska 2:09
28 - Desert / The Guardians Decide / Prophet Battle John Debney / Kevin Kaska 2:59
29 - The Search for Water / Deadman's Basin John Debney / Kevin Kaska 4:59
30 - Battle for Asylia John Debney / Kevin Kaska 4:24
31 - Epilogue John Debney / Kevin Kaska 3:18

Lock On Soundtrack

Lock On Soundtrack, Akihiko Mori, 1993

Using the SNES’s famed 3D capabilities for a combat flight simulator seems like an obvious choice. However, despite the popularity of After Burner-style games in the late 80s and early 90s, not many titles of this kind were released on the SNES. One of the few SNES flight simulators was the blandly-titled Lock On (not that the Japanese release name Super Air Diver made any sense, but it sure sounds more fun). For post SNES-era gamers, the best way to view developer Copya System‘s Lock On is probably as a kind of simplified Ace Combat. Some of that simplification was inevitable, given that the SNES’ famous Mode 7 could only generate 3D graphics of limited complexity. However, in the eyes of many reviewers, the bigger issue was the monotonous mission and gameplay structure that distracted from the game’s fluid, fast graphics.

Where Lock On easily shines brightest is in the music department, thanks to some outstanding work by young composer Akihiko Mori. Mori had been working as a game composer since 1990, but mostly on smaller and less thankful projects. His biggest assignment so far had been to generate the sound effects for Copya System’s Paladin’s Quest (scored by none other than Kohei Tanaka). Lock On was easily the most high-profile project that Mori had been assigned to yet as a composer. And indeed, throughout the Lock On soundtrack, Mori displays the enthusiasm of a talented composer who senses that this project could be his big break – and that turned out to be the case indeed.

Mori scores Lock On with an invigorating mix of rock, jazz, electronic and orchestral elements, mixed to perfection. Stylistically, the Lock On soundtrack doesn’t suggest anything that’s radically different from the template of 1980s adrenaline-driven cool set by After Burner and its many genre brethren (and of course Top Gun). But what Mori presents is an unexpectedly colourful and complex take on genre stereotypes – true to the signature style that he would come to develop and of which Lock On is the first example.

“Mission 1” straightaway announces Mori’s high-flying ambitions to spectacular results. Rising synth chords and pounding rock drums lead into a galloping track with amble funk influences (listen to that beautifully agile, grooving bass). This would be sufficient to make for a winning composition. But Mori goes out of this way and varies the melodic material between triumphant brass fanfares, a free-wheeling saxophone line and a racing, jazzy piano solo. As if that wasn’t enough, purposefully distorted synth leads add some tension to a composition that is already overflowing with energy. It’s fusion rock at its finest, brimming with variety and always tons of fun.

Throughout the Lock On soundtrack, Mori makes use of his large instrumental palette to explore different facets of the genre mix that he perfects on this score. “Mission 2” emphasises the more jazzy aspects of his elaborate formula, both through its swing and the impressive number of rhythm changes and breakdowns. At the same time, there is a rocking, head-banging quality to “Mission 2” and the score in general that keeps the music racing forward at all times. There is never a dull moment on the Lock On soundtrack, as Mori keeps throwing new melodies and segments into each composition – none of the tracks here are simple A/B section affairs.

Indeed, almost every single one of Mori’s compositions here is densely orchestrated and packed with ideas. Listen to “Mission 4” and its competing melodies, performed by saxophone and trumpet, or head over to absolutely rousing “Special Mission 2”, where rising trumpet and saxophone countermelodies compete with synth motifs, while yet more synth lines race by underneath. Mori clearly knows how to write complex compositions that never stand still, but at the same time he always prioritises memorable, substantial melodies over mere musical activity and busyness.

What’s most impressive about the Lock On soundtrack is how much it feels like a session of instrumental virtuosos jamming in full flight – not afraid to show off their chops during lengthy soli, but also able to hold these multi-faceted tracks together when the instruments lock into supremely tight grooves or work hand in hand during rushing call and response patterns. One of the credits in Lock On’s staff roll reads “Music Player: MORImori Rock’ n BAND”. Far from being just a cute insert, that credit needs to be taken seriously – hardly any other SNES soundtrack sounds as much like the product of a great live band as Lock On does.

Mori puts all of the above – the music’s boundless energy, its equally sprawling and focused instrumentations – to good use when he takes things higher and higher towards Lock On’s conclusion. The score’s hard rock tendencies begin to make themselves more and more felt in the soundtrack’s second half. While more straightforward, “Mission 5”’s driving rhythms carry stirring urgency and power, even when the melody lead lies with a solo harp. “Mission 6” is heavier and more intense still, making up for any lack of adventurousness with the determination and catchiness of its shortened melodic motifs. And “Ending” turns out to be a harbinger of the amazing orchestral works Mori would deliver soon. He effortlessly writes a pop ballad with cinematic sweep and a tender, one-minute long flute solo. There’s no doubt that the Lock On soundtrack announced the arrival of a major talent.

01 - Briefing Akihiko Mori 1:26
02 - Mission 1 Akihiko Mori 3:19
03 - Boss Battle Akihiko Mori 2:26
04 - Mission 2 Akihiko Mori 1:43
05 - Special Mission 1 Akihiko Mori 2:42
06 - Mission 3 Akihiko Mori 2:25
07 - Mission 4 Akihiko Mori 3:07
08 - Special Mission 2 Akihiko Mori 2:52
09 - Mission 5 Akihiko Mori 2:45
10 - Mission 6 Akihiko Mori 3:09
11 - Mission 7 Akihiko Mori 2:58
12 - Final Mission Akihiko Mori 3:28
13 - Ending Akihiko Mori 3:28
14 - Unknown Song 1 Akihiko Mori 2:45

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

Nanostray 2 Soundtrack

Nanostray 2 Soundtrack, Manfred Linzner, 2008

Manfred Linzner remains one of Western game music’s better kept secrets – although his scores deserve to be much better known. His work particularly turned heads with the Game Boy Advance scores for Iridion 3D and Iridion II – and not just because of their catchy melodies. These scores were technical marvels, proving one could create high-quality sound on a console infamous for its lacking audio capabilities. Fortunately, the Iridion scores have seen an excellent release through a widely available arrange album. However, the vast majority of Linzner’s discography – including excellent work like Fix & Foxi 1 – Episode 1: Lupo – remains commercially unavailable.

Enter the Nano collection – a digital soundtrack bundle that includes the full scores for the four titles in the Nano shoot’em up franchise, as well as another very strong arrange album. Among the original scores included in this release, Linzner’s Nanostray 2 soundtrack is the strongest work. Significantly more fully-fledged and varied than its predecessor, Nanostray 2 closely mirrors the game in its general character. It doesn’t greatly innovate on tried-and-true shmup genre formulas, but polishes its components to an impressive degree.

From the moment the satisfyingly deep, full bass of “Main Menu” kicks in, it’s obvious that Linzner has once more pushed the sound capabilities of the platform he’s working on to their limits. Beats on this Nintendo DS title are robust and achieve exactly the impact they seek, electronic guitar riffs register with force and precision, and the melodic synth leads shine in bright shades of silver neon (although the Nano soundtracks have always been a less melody-heavy affair than the Iridion scores). Linzner brings all these elements together in complex layers, and the album mix presents them with satisfying clarity.

Fortunately, there’s loads of substance underneath the shiny layers of futuristic synth work. Linzner uses each track on the Nanostray 2 soundtrack to introduce some variation to the album’s overall style, which is located squarely in the same high-tech sci-fi environment like so many other shmups. “Daitoshi Station” perfectly captures the feeling of embarking on an adventure in space. Tinkling synth arpeggios and dramatic, but always optimistic staccato melodies complement deep bass drones that provide gravitas. A welcome variation to the genre formula are the R’n’B rhythms Linzner deploys. They power the music along and create a perfectly danceable, energetic contrast to the track’s sci-fi elements.

Next is “Kaikan Outpost”, whose pumping techno beat and grinding guitar riff raise the stakes after the carefree “Daitoshi Station”. A faint synth melody squares off against the bass-heavy undergrowth to great effect, almost subsumed by the relentless rhythms. Such flair for effective orchestrations and effects helps Linzner’s more repetitive melodic material to avoid turning stale.

The Nanostray 2 soundtracks then runs through several variations of this collision between electronic beats / layers and gritty guitars. “Naizoh Habitat” mixes howling guitar riffs with synth arpeggios to great effect. Again, Linzner confronts a wispy synth melody with forceful rhythms to achieve musical conflict and drama befitting the on-screen action. Things are more easy going on “Shinkai Bay”. It brings together high-energy techno with raging, buzzing guitars to create the album’s most restless, adrenaline-charged composition.

Linzner’s feel for finely etched atmospherics that never lack the necessary punch is most clearly displayed on those tracks where he dares to experiment. “Teppeki Dock” begins with a synth drone that remains unchanged for 30 seconds over beeping sound effects and light beats. After effectively confusing expectations, Linzner then brings in distorted guitars that flare up and churn away at drum’n’bass rhythms. The track’s second half features the album’s most striking melody – essentially a chain of quivering crochets trying to assert themselves by accenting each four square beat, suggesting barely controlled franticness through their forcedly rigid progression.

“Kigan Belt” initially holds back with its anxiously suspended high synth notes, as any melodies are hesitant to form. Electric guitar noises and shreds of single notes echo across an eerie soundscape, and the same sense of insecurity returns on “Kohai City”. Here, the lead melody is doubled by a ghostly echo and then torn to pieces and tossed across the stereo field.

As much as the Nanostray 2 score sounds like a constant thrill ride, it does come with one caveat. It’s hard to dispute that there’s a fair amount of filler material on the album. Including the Nanostray 2 soundtrack in a list of the best game scores might be a close call then. But ultimately, there’s enough quality and substance here to elevate Nanostray 2 to the level of genre stand out. Less cinematic than Rafael Dyll’s Söldner-X soundtracks and eschewing the extended track running times of REDUX: Dark Matters, while also foregoing the self-conscious retro approach of Sturmwind, Nanostray 2 still extols the virtues of old-school shmup scoring with its succinct, exciting cues that pack a small musical universe into less than half an hour of music.

01 - Main Menu Manfred Linzner 1:06
02 - Himuro Base Manfred Linzner 1:48
03 - Daitoshi Station Manfred Linzner 1:41
04 - Kaikan Outpost Manfred Linzner 2:37
05 - Kigan Belt Manfred Linzner 2:24
06 - Nrock Manfred Linzner 1:19
07 - Teppeki Dock Manfred Linzner 2:12
08 - Shinkay Bay Manfred Linzner 2:36
09 - Naizoh Habitat Manfred Linzner 2:00
10 - Kohai City Manfred Linzner 1:52
11 - Credits Manfred Linzner 2:20

Octogeddon Soundtrack

Octogeddon Soundtrack (PC), Big Giant Circles, 2018

“Every game before Plants vs. Zombies, I was just making a game. Now, after making Plants vs. Zombies, I’m making a game in that shadow.” That’s how developer George Fan described the not necessarily easy task of following up one of indie gaming’s biggest successes. But while Octogeddon didn’t sell by the bucketload as Plants vs. Zombies did, it still ranked as another success for Fan, with consistently strong feedback from reviewers and gamers. Like Plants vs. Zombies, Octogeddon works from a deliciously silly concept – this time, it’s a homicidal octopus that swears revenge after seeing his friends served as sushi, vowing to destroy the world’s most famous landmarks (think Eiffel Tower, the Statue of Liberty etc.) Fan decided to mix the gameplay’s arcadey nature – including hilarious weapon/tentacle upgrades – with rogue-like elements that helped keep the game’s early levels challenging, even upon repeated playthroughs.

The Plants vs. Zombies soundtrack – courtesy of Laura Shigihara – had become one of game music’s first indie breakthrough successes back in 2009. Shigihara didn’t return for Octogeddon, and instead, scoring duties went to Big Giant Circles (aka Jimmy Hinson). Looking at Hinson’s discography, the charming, action-packed 2D aesthetic and gameplay that Octogeddon sports were right in his ballpark – consider his previous chiptunes-pop smashes Pocket Mine and Extreme Bike Trip. Other scores released since those fairly succinct works had allowed Hinson to create more expansive soundtracks – and Octogeddon is his most successful attempt at a full album-length score yet. He’s helped on a few tracks by Fan, who has his material arranged by Hinson, ensuring a coherent album flow.

On the Octogeddon soundtrack, fans of Hinson’s earlier scores will find the same artistic traits that made his previous works such a blast – only this time, we get nearly an hour rather than 15 minutes of euphoric, constantly enjoyable music. Hinson still knows better than almost any other currently working game music composer how to write crowd-pleasing, thrilling works that combine simple, catchy melodies with plenty of musical substance.

Not only does he always find the perfect balance between riding a memorable melody hook and moving on to the next one before things get repetitive. His instrumentations remain as lushly detailed and joyfully dense as always, mixing pop, metal, orchestral and electronica into a colourful, seamless whole. While the Octogeddon soundtrack rarely turns into overt parody, it’s still in tune with the game’s consciously ridiculous humour, underscoring the rampage of a cute 2D octopus with bombastic pop hooks and stadium-sized guitar riffs and beats. Also, that power metal chorus on “Angry Octopus (Credits)” is an absolute hoot.

It’s that sense of fun and bravado that makes the Octogeddon soundtrack such a joy to listen to. From the moment “Angry Octopus Instrumental (New York Ocean)” mixes a sing-along sea shanty with stomping metal guitar riffs, a heroic horn motif and wordless male choir pads, it’s evident that Hinson is ready to create as massive a sound as possible. This isn’t game music concerned with subtlety – all that Octogeddon wants is to entertain, and it does so brilliantly.

Particularly during moments where orchestral elements take the lead, this feels a bit like a Remote Control score that actually has strong enough melodies to pull off its pop-influenced orchestral writing. What’s more, it also has enough humour to also throw in brazen metal guitars and drums, location-inappropriate uilleann pipes (“Didgeridoo I’m Comin’ for You (Sydney Ocean)”) and location-spoofing accordion (“French Dip (France Ocean)”). It’s thanks to the soundtrack’s enthusiasm and Hinson’s musical talents that such unlikely combinations work as beautifully as they do here. Particular kudos must go to “Octovania (Tokyo Ocean)”. Yes, Hinson is paying homage to the Castlevania soundtracks, and he perfectly integrates that franchise’s Gothic melodic instincts with his metal / sea shanty / accordion mix.

Once our raging sea critter reaches shore to continue his trail of destruction, the music changes a bit while staying true to the Octogeddon soundtrack’s focus on big melodies. “New York Squishy (NY City)” sets the tone with a greater emphasis on colder, 80s-inspired synth beats that replace the sea shanties – a creative approach to signal the transition from natural to human-made environment. Melodic metal guitars are still accounted for and keep energy levels relentlessly high, but the music lurches closer to the neon-coloured dance floor. Tempi slow down a bit now – “Sunsets and No Regrets (Sydney City)” ’s surprisingly moody guitar solo suits the track’s mid-tempo pace perfectly. Later city tracks like “Nightlife-or-Death (Tokyo City)” and “OCTOpus vs PENTAgon (DC City)” are slower still, thunderously pulsing and thumping as they go for (comic book-inspired) gravitas rather than adrenaline.

Since the Octogeddon soundtrack’s level cues already deliver some sterling action game music, you would expect the boss battle tracks to at least maintain that level of excitement – and you would be correct. Heavy, grungier riffage than usually dominates “Badliest Catch (Miniboss)”, although there is still space for creative ideas like the gutsy lead for harmonising horns and guitar at 0:50, or the bits of accordion melody flitting across the stereo field later on. Hinson and Fan add chiptunes to “Rocktogeddon (Boss Fight)” during its particularly intense finale for fierce guitar and bubbling synths. But of course, the real star is “Sushi Showdown (Final Boss)”. From its galloping metal rhythms to the score’s most complex drumming, supported by the classical bombast of a choir and towering brass, this is the perfect summation of the score’s commitment to delivering a wall-of-sound that is as enticingly over-the-top as it is immediately accessible.

01 - Angry Octopus Instrumental (New York Ocean) Big Giant Circles 2:42
02 - New York Squishy (New York City) Big Giant Circles 3:20
03 - Didgeridoo I'm Comin' for You (Sydney Ocean) Big Giant Circles 3:19
04 - Sunsets and No Regrets Big Giant Circles 3:36
05 - Octovania (Tokyo Ocean) Big Giant Circles 2:48
06 - Nightlife-or-Death (Tokyo City) Big Giant Circles 3:05
07 - French Dip (French Ocean) Big Giant Circles 3:07
08 - OCTOpus vs PENTAgon (DC City) Big Giant Circles 3:12
09 - Badliest Catch (Miniboss) Big Giant Circles 2:59
10 - Rocktogeddon (Boss Fight) Big Giant Circles 3:36
11 - Sushi Showdown (Final Boss) Big Giant Circles 3:15
12 - Fish are Friends (Minigame) Big Giant Circles 1:58
13 - Angry Octopus (Credits) Big Giant Circles 2:18

Red Alarm Soundtrack

Red Alarm Soundtrack, Ken Kojima, 1995

Of course, hindsight is everything, so it’s easy to marvel now at how Nintendo thought that a console as clunky and inherently limited as the Virtual Boy could ever succeed. In defence of Nintendo and Virtual Boy creator Gunpei Yokoi, the console ultimately shipped in a downscaled version, as Nintendo shifted its attention and resources to the Nintendo 64 halfway through the Virtual Boy’s development. The story of the Virtual Boy was ultimately a short one, with only 770,000 copies sold worldwide and the platform discontinued after less than a year.

While only 22 Virtual Boy games were released during the console’s life time, there’s still the odd gem to be found amongst the soundtracks that accompanied these titles. Easily the best Virtual Boy soundtrack is Ken Kojima’s work for Red Alarm, one of the console’s launch titles. A wire-frame graphics rail shooter inspired by Star Fox, Red Alarm was developed by T&E Soft, who had already proven their shoot’em up credentials with the jaw-dropping Game Boy title Chikyuu Kaihou Gun ZAS. Like all Virtual Boy games, Red Alarm found little commercial success, but it was at least better received by reviewers than most other VB titles.

It also features what is Ken Kojima’s best score, a work several leagues ahead of his other game soundtracks – including solid contributions like 3-D Tetris and Blaze & Blade: Eternal Quest, and disappointments like The Note. Little is known about Kojima (at least in the English-speaking corners of the internet), so Red Alarm stands as an enticing, solitary proof of his talents.

While the Virtual Boy was technically a 32-bit platform, its six sound channels (five wave + one noise) produce results that are closer to the Game Boy’s gritty timbres. As such, Red Alarm is part of the chiptunes era of game music and an excellent example of how limited technology can still produce music of considerable complexity. Indeed, if there’s one thing that stands out about the Red Alarm soundtrack, it’s Kojima’s all-guns-blazing attitude, as he creates music of relentless intensity.

First track “Opening” quickly shows that Kojima isn’t planning to take any prisoners. Building in nicely cinematic fashion from a tentative, slightly unsettling opening, “Opening” bursts into a dizzying array of densely layered industrial rhythms that will become the soundtrack’s calling card. Indeed, sometimes Red Alarm feels like an extended prog rock version of the NES Mega Man games’ characteristic rhythms. However, despite the music’s rhythmic complications, Kojima manages to keep the track’s forward movement catchy and driving. His talents extend to melody writing as well. “Opening”’s melody lead is a beautifully long-spun creation that’s emotionally complex – with anthemic tendencies but not outright heroic, rather cautiously optimistic, striding forwards against increasing odds. Kojima’s smart use of the stereo field here and throughout the soundtrack increases the music’s scope even further, to the point where “Opening” feels like a space opera score sharpened by industrial rock’s fierce energy.

And initially, the Red Alarm soundtrack maintains this stylistic impression. While unusually intense for a first level track, “Stage 1” has the same ear-catching contrast that powered “Opening”. An uplifting, if somewhat tentative melody – now with a stronger pop bent – contrasts with a web of constantly churning rhythms that somehow never lose their irresistible forward drive. “Stage 2” is an intriguing experiment, introducing an almost unsettlingly playful and bouncy feel to Red Alarm’s rough edge, the latter still present through the cue’s pointed melody leads.

But very soon, the Red Alarm soundtrack more than lives to its title. The first two boss tracks are expectedly more fragmented, structured around classic crisis motifs and quavering, startled melody leads. But it’s really on “Stage 3” that the Red Alarm soundtrack reveals its intention to underscore overwhelming odds and enemy numbers, rather than to herald the hero’s progress. Its melodies thinned out to repetitive, surreal two-note pulses, “Stage 3” feels like a blasted wasteland, with lethal dangers ready to strike at any moment. A curious breakdown just before the loop lets the music’s asphyxiating atmosphere abruptly fade into silence, turning “Stage 3” into Red Alarm’s most enigmatic moment. “Boss 3” dares listeners with a nearly five-minute run time, particularly oppressive rhythms and a minimalist, slow melody whose tortured attitude only turns bleaker and bleaker with each pained repetition.

“Boss 3” is proof that while Kojima writes a constantly electrifying action score, he also knows how to build a specific, brutal mood – as if the entire game took place inside some unrelenting cosmic furnace. Kojima is also clever enough to still sparingly deploy melodic elements. It allows the melodies to stand out all the more once they appear, pulling in listeners even when the music’s jagged motion is less than accessible. And so “Stage 4” returns “Stage 1”’s melodicism, while “Boss 4” spectacularly dismantles it again. Initially scattered across the stereo field, “Boss 4”’s resolute melody manages to reassert itself against particularly single-minded, hammering rhythms – before the tune slowly veers off into less harmonically secure, discordant territory, subtly losing its foothold before it completely disintegrates. “Stage 5” is equally clever in its development, carefully escalating the conflict between the soundtrack’s consonant, aggressive and experimental tendencies.

It’s an appropriate stage setter for “Boss 5”, which brings the Red Alarm soundtrack’s ferocity to a head. Its rhythmic background at time approaches white noise, while melodies veer between stinging staccato notes, panicked cries, breathlessly rushing arpeggios and wailing sirens. After this superbly organised cacophony, it’s a relief to find on “Ending” that Kojima can do “upbeat and hopeful” just as well as conjuring images of apocalyptic space battles. Instrumentations don’t change much, but the mood is entirely different, contently looking back upon the adventure amidst memorable, densely arranged pop melodies. The relaxed yet still sweeping composition once more underlines the soundtrack’s ambitions – as the Virtual Boy’s greatest score, this isn’t just a mere historic curiosity, but one of the greatest chiptunes shoot’em up soundtracks ever written.

01 - Opening Kojima, Ken 4:32
02 - Stage 1 Kojima, Ken 3:23
03 - Boss 1 Kojima, Ken 2:26
04 - Clear Kojima, Ken 1:41
05 - Replay Kojima, Ken 1:32
06 - Stage 2 Kojima, Ken 2:18
07 - Boss 2 Kojima, Ken 2:09
08 - Stage 3 Kojima, Ken 2:58
09 - Boss 3 Kojima, Ken 4:43
10 - Stage 4 Kojima, Ken 2:18
11 - Boss 4 Kojima, Ken 3:17
12 - Stage 5 Kojima, Ken 2:39
13 - Boss 5 Kojima, Ken 2:16
14 - The Final Stage Kojima, Ken 2:03
15 - Ending Kojima, Ken 3:59