Between mountainous peaks of self-analysis I had an
idea that was actually conducive to creative output. Hell, it may even lead to some
degree of scheduled content in the
not too distant future. In any case, bear with me as I lurch into Muddled Video Game Musical
Things!
A long while ago it occurred to me that discussion
of the music in video games was often pushed to the side in favour of, well,
everything else. Video games are capable of many different things; they use the
devices of prose, comics and cinema, and their own sets of mechanical
conventions, too. Over the last two decades these elements have widened
immensely; there are simply more capabilities than ever before in every
direction. Music is one element among many that vies for priority, and I can’t
help but feel saddened when it's left wanting. I wanted to take some time to look into the position that music holds in video games at the moment, explore
how it got there, and share some notable tracks at the same time.
I
struggled for a while with how to approach a topic as wide as music in
video games, and then it hit me: it’s the huge breadth of possibilities that
make the discourse so difficult to frame. There are only light conventions that
link games to music style: the disposition of certain dominant developers (and
the composers therein) is one thread, but it’s too unhinged, unintuitive and
variable. And thematic-genre, too; it seems more likely to affect a soundtrack
than gameplay-genre, but there is so little consistency—and such rapid changes
and convergences over the years—that even this convention ends up being about
as useful as saying ‘cinematic games have cinematic scores’. The conversation
of video game music is mired in tenuous threads between genres and conventions
that are rarely discussed in a way that encompasses video games as whole. It’s
something of a quagmire at the moment. The issue of taste hangs more heavily
here than with other elements, too; it is much harder to articulate and defend
musical preference than it is to point at pretty graphics and tight controls.
I’ve
come to feel that the best place to start might just be a simple question of
independence: to what extent can video game music be separated from the whole
and enjoyed by itself? I’ve liked many tracks from games I’ve never played,
but veering towards what I’ve experienced seems invariable. There is something
to be said for the effect on a piece of enjoyable music when it becomes
synonymous with a pleasurable experience. That effect amounts to more than just
nostalgia, though; some of my fondest memories in gaming featured an occasionally laughable soundtrack. And there were many sequels—like
Tekken Tag and Mario Kart: Double Dash—that were fun and massively accomplished
but, I felt, sorely lacked in soundtrack against their predecessors.
The obvious (and simplistic) answer to the
independence question would be that an individual track that is good enough should
be able to stand on its own. But there are too many pesky tangents and
variables to be content with this position. There is the very simple commercial
fact that an album like this
(some of Blizzard’s music re-arranged by Eminence Symphony Orchestra) isn’t
going to generate much outside interest. Even if the music itself reached some
non-existent plateau of objective excellence its primary audience would still
be the players of Blizzard’s games. Music isn’t consumed in a vacuum, and there
is a lot of music out there; people are pushed and pulled by association and
platforms, and very rarely is anything plucked from obscurity and listened to
without some linking thread. Video games are a legitimate avenue to music but
they are also unconventional, especially when the music is so dissimilar to
what one might expect to hear on the radio or TV.
It wasn’t until the Playstation that real tones and
tracks were even a viable option to console developers. Titles like Grand Theft
Auto and Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater made great use of mainstream bands and artists.
Emulating a city environment with a believable radio was a ridiculously
effective idea. Like-wise, loading up a game with artists who are popular among
the exact people you want to play your skating game seems so obvious, but these practices had to start
somewhere. By the time this new wave of ‘realistic’ games was in vogue, though,
there was already a massive convention of simple synth and prominent melodies
that formed into a genre of its own. This was originally a necessity of having
precious little cartridge space; the composers had to make the best of a very
limited set of tools and, in the process, a unique style emerged and many memorable tracks
were produced. In more recent titles this convention seems clearest in
throw-back indie games like ‘Castle Crashers’
and ‘Super
Meat Boy’; stronger tones, way more voices, but still leaning
on thick synth and prominent melody.
This style doesn’t just exist independently of games
now, though; it
flourishes. The fact of this chip-tune genre being created
from video games speaks volumes about the significance of music to fans,
developers and composers alike; the details, care and innovation does get
noticed. A place like OCRemix
(a superb site that I would recommend to, er, people who like music) wouldn’t
exist without a multitude of folks ready to pull songs out of a gaming context.
Musicians take memorable tracks and flesh them out,
often into something more conventionally associable with standalone music.
After all, what better way to get into music than by attraction to a
well-known genre?
To bring things back to the independence issue,
though, it can seem like this kind of objectivity isn’t absolute: potential listeners
are going to be drawn to the titles they have played or experienced and, though
a reinterpretation may be enjoyed, it was still dependent on someone
having a reason to give a track a chance. But this is only a tendency I’ve
noticed in myself from time to time. I’ve also come to love some fantastic remixes
from games I’ve never even heard of, mostly on the strength of the artists’ consistency.
I don’t think the link between enjoyed music and its constituent game can be
fully ignored, but it can be overcome in the right circumstances; when the
musical reputation of a game out-paces (or keeps up with) its other elements,
or when dedicated musicians lift up their favourite pieces. All that’s really
required—aside from a vague interest in music—is for people in the community to
say things like, ‘Hey, I thought this
was pretty good.’
[Next time I'll be writing about nostalgia and the dread pandemic of 'rose-tinted glasses'.]
