I grew up playing video games. We already owned an NES before I was born, and the SNES quickly became a close companion. I started gaming at a younger age than my older brother, Scott, and Alan at a younger age than I. We started off with the classics like Mario and Zelda, of course, but Scott and I quickly developed an affinity towards Role Playing Games. Since then, I’d say 90% of the games I’ve played have been story- or character-driven. More than, that, however, I’ve always been drawn in by games with great soundtracks. Video games really are a multimedia experience, and when one aspect is lacking, it takes away from the whole.
RPGs have typically had soundtracks that go above and beyond the norm. There are some games where music seems to be an extra element, but the great ones have music that is tightly interwoven with the rest of the game. Even back in the days of the SNES when game music had huge limitations, it was the conceptualisation behind the scores that made the music so great. They were conceived on much greater scales than their presentation. The MIDI files would do their darndest to get the message across, and then your imagination could take over and fill in what you knew to be hidden. Theme songs became just as important as the characters themselves because they were inseparable. And at a time when text was either lacking or poorly translated and graphics could not always convey specific emotions or actions, the music gave the extra push to help you feel uplifted, sad, angry or excited.
There is often the notion that video game music is a lesser art form, which is usually accompanied by poor or no reasoning. There is a lot of bad video game music, no doubt, just as there is a lot of bad music elsewhere. That is no reason to dismiss an entire genre. Early generations of video games had extreme disadvantages in terms of delivery of music, as I mentioned earlier. But I think the good composers persevered and did the best with what they had. In many cases those early games have been remade on newer, more powerful systems and the sound has been updated, or reinterpretations of the soundtracks have been made in orchestral or piano form. With these tools it has been shown that the pieces are more than 8-bit sounds. Early recording devices weren’t so hot either—it’s not like an aluminum cylinder can really capture the whole of a Beethoven symphony. So one can hardly blame video game composers for having to use the only technology they had available at the time.
One ubiquitous characteristic of video game music is looping, ranging from barely noticeable, to frequent, to repetitive, to excessive. Generally a piece can do well if it lasts a good 40 seconds before completing the loop, but I’ve heard background tracks that will loop after a mere six or seven seconds. I remember as a kid being asked by my parents why I didn’t get annoyed by the incessant looping. And it’s a funny thing, I really never was bothered by it if it was a good enough track. For a piece to hold my interest (generally) it has to fit the following criteria: be fitting to the character/mood/environment; have a loop time that is not too short; and be an overall good piece of music (obviously).
The length of the loop is (or should be) dependent on other factors. For instance, if players are going to be spending a lot of time in an area, the loop should be much longer. Long dungeons, long in-game cut scenes where skipping dialogue is not an option, and boss battles are three good examples. You don’t want to have to trudge 45 minutes through a dungeon with an annoying 10-second loop—this is especially important in games where sound effects play a vital role and the music must be left on. Nor do you want your concentration to be broken during a challenging battle or puzzle because the music is getting on your nerves.
For RPGs—at least, traditional games—the overworld is probably the place where it’s most important to have interesting and appropriate music, as players will spend a lot of time there. The same goes for alternate travel themes, such as airship, boat, etc. Another consideration that needs to be made is whether or not the overworld music will reset after, say, a random encounter. This one bugs me a lot. Since these themes tend to be fairly lengthy, and random encounters are frequent enough, resetting the music means you might never (or rarely) get to hear the piece in its entirety. Not only that, but the first few seconds of the theme will get on your nerves more quickly. The more you’re likely to hear something, the better it should be. Final Fantasy VI and Breath of Fire each had three overworld themes to reflect changing worlds, and prevented one theme from being overused. Secret of Mana did the same thing with its flight music.
So, if you’re going to give all cities the same theme, it better be good. For instance, Chrono Cross has the worst battle music that I’ve heard (a shame because most of the soundtrack is quite good, even if a lot of it is based on remixed Chrono Trigger themes). This is not good for an RPG. If battles are integral, composing good battle music is vital.
Sometimes when I’m playing video games I will listen to other music (but only music that is either appropriate to my mood at the time, or somehow fitting with the game). But there are some games that I will only play with the game sound on. Besides most of the RPGs that I play, the Metroid series is at the top of the list. Since the very beginning of the series, Metroid has achieved an integration like very few others. The original composer for Metroid, Tanaka Hirokazu said that he tried “to create the sound without any distinctions between music and sound effects.” Though numerous other composers have taken over his work in all subsequent games in the series, it is apparent that they have held true to his vision, whether or not they knew this was his original intention. I think it works so well in the Metroid series partly because of the space/sci-fi setting, but also because of the humble beginnings of the music on the NES. At that time, with the limited sounds that could be created, it was easier to create seamlessness between music and sound effect. However, since then the amorphous sound has become a trademark of the series and is a strong contribution to the overall experience. If I play without the music/sound effects on, I feel like I’m missing out on a part of the experience. By the same reasoning, the music should never take away from the experience. I don’t want to be pulled out of a moment because the music is not fitting.
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