To The Moon OST

4.5 hours of gameplay, 31 tracks and about 3 boxes of tissues.

I finished this game in a single sitting. I planned to only play for around ten minutes or so - you know, test the waters - but then the music happened. All of a sudden I was watching the end credits roll, allowing the piano to wash over me and openly shedding tears of manliness. When the final song ended, I remember leaning back in my seat, running a hand through my hair and thinking to myself (in a deeply introspective way): "what the fuck just happened?"

To The Moon is an indie RPG adventure game created by Kan "Reives" Gao and his small development team at Freebird Games. Released in November 2011 it shocked the gaming world, rising to internet fame in a matter of months. Bombarded by a number of awards such as "Indie Game of the Year" and Gamespot.com's "Best Story" (beating massive titles like Portal 2) it swiftly became the highest user-rated PC game of 2011 at Metacritic - a momentous achievement for such a small company. The soundtrack, composed by Gao himself, also found itself flung into the spotlight being nominated for highly prestigious awards such as "Best Music" and "Song of the Year". It's safe to say this game and its humble score are phenomenal in all senses of the word. 

It really came out of nowhere for me too. I was recommended it by a friend who didn't tell me anything but that 'it would change me' - whatever that meant. Having already perused some in-game screenshots and read the game bio I downloaded it with a clear set of expectations: it seemed like your standard cute little RPG developed on a cute little budget with a cute little story. However, from the moment the opening music started up I knew that this game was going to be something different.

The scenery and the music work hand in hand to deliver an atmosphere unlike any game I've ever played before.

Gao's piano emerges cautiously over the light house scenery; soon, encouraged by the tentative progression of soaring strings and emboldened by a gentle cymbal crescendo, it flutters into life alongside dreamlike pitch-bent synths and the childish twinklings of a distant music box. This harmonic succession, the lo-fi minimalist snares punctuating it and the subtle use of reverberation give the song a spacious, emotionally poignant character; it perfectly encapsulates the character of the game itself - cheerful, inspirational but somehow reclusive... somehow lonely. Gao manages to grasp something most composers often hint at but never quite achieve on such an honest level: a feeling of sadness which builds out of happiness, of pleasure blooming in pain. The kind of feeling I would imagine a parent has when their child leaves for school for the last time. In short, it provides the perfect musical stage for a game of such breathtaking emotional depth as this one.

Now don't get me wrong, Gao is as much a one dimensional composer as To The Moon is a is a one dimensional game. As soon as our two science-savvy protagonists make their grand entrance (crashing their car into a tree after running over a squirrel) Gao introduces us to the playful side of the score with the aptly named track Between a Squirrel and a Tree. The pizzicato violin hops around the almost melancholic strings and woodwinds with a very odd effect. The tone is at once humorous and mysterious; it straddles gamesome frivolity with a looming sense of mystery - the sort of music you'd hear in detective comedy. Well, a large part of the game is actually just that; with the track Bestest Detectives in the World we see this more than ever. The pizzicato is plucked to a carnivalistic time signature (om CHA, om CHA... - if that makes any sense at all) while the deep brass and piano staccatos provide the comic structure of the groove. When placed in context, surrounding the detective duo's witty banter or tongue-in-cheek insults, Gao's music really becomes the life of the party.  

In true post-modern fashion To The Moon is the haunting story of one man's life... told backwards.

Another interesting fact about his score is that it is sometimes actively vital to the comedy itself; there are certain jokes which simply cannot be executed without his accompanying music - something I don't think I've ever heard of in a game before this. Take Teddy for example... what is the first thing that comes to your mind listening to this? For me it brings back memories of long grasses blowing in the wind, of childhood strolls through nature and A WILD PIDGEY APPEARS. Teddy leaps at you with the force of a hundred past RPG games and while I don't want to spoil the joke (hint hint go play the game) it caught me off guard and had me buckled over with laughter.

The game is replete with intertextual comic material such as this (and it is all awesome) but it also important to note that it finds the time to make fun of itself. With tunes like Too Bad So Sad and Warning (AKA best track ever) Gao rips off the game's own sensationalism... the funny thing is that he really hits the mark. To The Moon and the high-strung orchestral lamentations which propel it are, in some cases, undeniably melodramatic and in-your-face. However, by making fun of his own work (both in music and in dialogue) Gao practically immunizes the game against such ridicules - a stroke of genius, or an unwitting bonus... you decide.

If you went with the "stroke of genius" answer you win one free internet. Gao is a clever composer; we see this again and again. This is most apparent, I think, in the fact the way he avoids simply superimposing the score onto story or violin over the visuals - one of the hardest things for a soundtrack to do; rather he blends them into a single cohesive whole and it is this which gives the game such character. For instance, the way his violin blends into the exact tonal note of Johnny's (main character) beeping heart monitor. The most beautiful scene of this nature was (for me of course) one where River, the love of Johnny's life, learns to ride a horse for the first time. Her caution quickly turns into delight as the horse takes off, galloping through the trees and flowering bushes of an abandoned park. Take Me Anywhere beautifully collaborates with the scene, encapsulating the thrill and freedom of it all not only through melody but the clever use of rhythm - that of a horse's gallop.

Reliving the memories of a dying man... sounds cheesy doesn't it? Well this is some seriously delicious cheese.

However it's not all fun, games and riding horses backwards (just play it already!)... To The Moon is, as Goa himself describes, a tragicomedy and as such the story and the music can become pretty heavy in some places. In the refrain of For River, which is written by Johnny himself, we find the first subtle hints of sadness (during gameplay) hiding in amongst the beautiful melodies of a love song. The sadness is faint and subdued but it is, I think, most definitely there - just as it is in the opening song. With Once Upon a Memory's pretty guitar work we find this sadness again peeking out from behind the score's romanticism. However, as the story becomes more overtly dramatic this well-crafted emotional duplicity breaks down; what we are left with are heart-rending, heavily reverberated piano pieces such as Born a Stranger and Once Upon a Memory (piano). It's songs like these that really kicked the story (and my lacrimal glands) into overdrive. By now Gao had me right where he wanted me: on the edge of my seat, ready to pull it out from under me.

It was Launch that did me in. I'm not going to explain how the song fits into the game (though it may be obvious) as it may give the story away. Suffice it to say that the awesome dancing of those frolicking strings, the simple but evocative guitar work and the combined crescendos of drums, chimes, cymbals and gongs all add up to a musical and emotional climax of unforgettable magnitude. And then, as if not quite satisfied with the internal upheaval of his audience, Gao turns back to the piano with a mellifluous vengeance. The scenery it accompanies seems to melt at his musical touch (either that or it was just impossible to focus through the tears) as the denouement heralds the most powerful of meanings through the softest of melodies; It is with this awful but oh so beautiful finality that the score sinks into the dark, silently dragging the game along with it.

The best thing about this game is that there is going to be a sequel. I can't wait.

I think you might've realized by now that this is as much an appeal as a review. In fact without anything bad to say beyond the self-negated criticism of "hurr it was melodramatic sometimes" it's safe to say this isn't even much of a review at all. Well, I tried my best but ultimately there was very little I could fault him for; Gao has become, in just 4.5 hours, one of my all time favorite composers (not to mention game developers) and I really think he deserves most if not all of the praise the internet has heaped on him these last few months. This review, whilst attempting to offer a clear personal perspective on his work, has really only grappled with the music in isolation - to truly grasp the beauty of the score and the narrative power it holds this is simply not enough. As with all good soundtracks you cannot divorce it from its foundations and expect it to amount to much - after all, what is icing without a cake to rest on?

The game and the bundled soundtrack can be purchased either from Steam or from his website for a measly 12$ and 50c. Whats more, half of his already limited proceeds (thanks to steam and the low sales price) go to directly to charities for autism. So, if you clearly have the time to go through the whole shlep of reading this bloated 'review' then surely taking 4.5 hours out of your life (and some pocket change out your wallet) is not going to do you any more harm - I implore you to go out and buy this game and the soundtrack. Artists as wonderful as Gao are not easy to come by and really deserve all the support they can get. In the end my friend was right - this game did change me. And now I want it to change you.

Personal rating: 9/10

Dear Esther OST

Dear Esther: a shivering submersion in the mind of another.

As I write this I have just finished Dear Esther and am busy listening through Jessica Curry's soundtrack. Although I have nothing planned to say, nothing substantial to offer, I want to get my impressions out while they are fresh. From here on out this post is not about information; if you want that, have a look at the Wikipedia page. No, I am going to write about how the game and the music made me feel - a completely subjective painting of the way this game affected me.

The whole experience moved me in ways most games do not. It has left me feeling damp... hollowed out; not quite sad - something more at peace than that, more subtle. The music of that island is as natural as the shingles scraping up and down the beach. It seems to waft in and out with the breeze, fitting amazingly well with the dry rustling of sparse and tired grasses artistically peppered here and there with wild flowers; the piano floats above the player in its element and mingles with the cries of seagulls circling far off in the distance, luring you deeper into the game and out of your comfort zone.

Dear Esther is more of a short film than a game.

Most games are not built on unhappiness; most games sacrifice artistic aesthetics for gameplay; most games are escape mechanisms where the player can enter into a fantasy world and forget their own. Dear Esther broke this mold. The music took me by the hand and led me into a place where realism and make believe converge like rain on parched soil. Something grew there... contorted and melancholic, but very much alive. A heaving landscape of the human mind - a sensation of pain numbed by time and tablets.

I did not know where to go. Nothing gave me direction. But, at the same time, I knew exactly what must be done - a stuttering red light shone off in the distance and I headed towards it. The music told me I was getting closer; it was reassuring in a hopeless way. I heard the off hand remarks of one no longer enjoying himself as he spoke of the lives of others... a shepherd who was spent on the slopes of the island, a cartographer tattered and lost in memory, his wife. He speaks of his own past as if it were just another of these characters - not truly him. A shadow of his identity fading with the setting sun.

Head towards the red light.

As you trudge slowly through the vivid scenery, wading through the music, you come across strange shapes painted on the rocks. These are unsettling. If you are so determined to push on through the pain towards the end, towards transcendence, then why are there memories and fragments of character plastered across the island? Are they anchors in the same way books and artworks are anchors? In your heart of hearts are you not scared of effacement at the hands of time? I think you are. I am. This fear, so often pushed to the back of my mind, is harshly splayed across the jagged granite - pieces of earth being dashed, again and again, by the waves of a tireless ocean. Strange how personal the cold white paint of a fictional man can be... especially when coupled with Curry's harrowing music. This auditory frame, although cracked and dusty, is absolutely beautiful in it's own dark way. 

The moon and the strange markings.

The game and the soundtrack are works of art but it definitely has its flaws. Overused car metaphors and some pretty dull voice acting bottleneck the experience a bit. Yet these, however annoying, are not game breaking issues. Still, not everyone will enjoy the experience - though I'm not actually sure you're supposed to. The island offers something else entirely; I can't quite place it. But one thing I do know is that I am extremely grateful this game never slipped under my radar. If you enjoy scenery porn and are not too put off by a bit of pretentiousness (and if you, like me, enjoy music which walks a fine line between ambiance and melody) then Dear Esther will have its way with you and you will be grateful for it.

The soundtrack can be bought from Curry's bandcamp page for ₤4.99. I would honestly rate this one of the best soundtracks I have ever heard and definitely worth a buy if you have some spare cash. It is always great to support such amazing musicians and Jessica has really earned it. In fact I would really like to see some awards thrown at this but that might be wishful thinking. At any rate, it is a breathtaking game accompanied by a luscious soundtrack. A real gem of 2012.

Personal rating: 8.5/10

Mushi-Shi OST

Wavy watercolors, sleepy canopies and smudged light dappled here and there along lazy green landscapes all wrapped up in warm acoustic guitar and caressed by the voice of Ally Kerr - just like that Mushi-Shi nudges the viewer into its world... and what a world it is.

Mushi-Shi, based on the award-winning manga written and illustrated by Yuki Urushibara, was adapted into a 26 episode anime television series in 2005; directed by Hiroshi Nagahama with music by Toshio Masuda the series swept viewers off their feet (just look at the user ratings at Anime News Network and IMDB) winning awards at at the 5th Tokyo Anime Awards in 2006 such as best art direction (Takashi Waki). Without resorting to harems, high-budgeted mecha fight scenes or even a chronologically relevant storyline, Mushishi was a remarkable success gaining a dedicated cult following and showing the world that a slow, thoughtful and unimposing story can be marketable too.

The world of Mushi-Shi is solemn, textured and visceral - as is the soundtrack.

So what is it that makes the series so appealing to both average viewers and critics? I would say it is harmony; harmony of animation, art style, voice acting and, of course, music. It is this harmony and the almost unrivaled sense of immersion (which results from it) which really makes the show stand out. I have consumed very few series, games or movies which suck the audience in quite like Mushi-Shi and I'm sure the gripping soundtrack plays a big part in this.

For me, the sign of a great soundtrack is not necessarily that the viewer notices it and enjoys it, but rather that the viewer is immersed in an enjoyment of the whole production but doesn't quite understand why - for in noticing and enjoying the soundtrack, although a different type of pleasure may be gained, immersion is lost. Masuda's work walks a fine line here, carefully balancing beautiful melodies with a sense of transparency and atmosphere. I noticed the soundtrack to be sure, but I noticed it in relation to the rest of the show - it was not a separate entity but rather more like the paper on which the images were painted, the milk in which the cereal becomes soggy. This was the soundtrack's biggest strength for me.

If you enjoy Japanese culture, tradition and music, Mushi-Shi is a must see.

The anime follows the meanderings of Ginko (above) as he traverses rural japan around the time of the Edo period dealing with various spirit-like beings called Mushi-Shi. Both the main character and these spirits are mysterious to the viewer and the details thereof are intentionally few and far between. The soundtrack manages to really amplify the mystery and odd happenings which provide the meat of series. It wraps the various little stories in a veil of misty instrumentation which suggests that everything you've seen could just be a dream, an imaginary world - about as real as thought itself. In this sense, it provides the perfect atmosphere for the series as a whole.

Masuda manages this through the use of heavily reverberated sounds, the strategic panning of instruments (If you have a high end sound system, you are in for a treat - the soundstage can be glorious) and amazingly detailed recordings (in some songs you can hear the fingers slide along the koto and the fue's lamentations give the feel that you're in some sullen and mossy cavern). On top of this there is a strong sense of instrumental dynamism both in frequency and volume (for instance there are the deep sub-bass lows of the taiko, the rich pads and strings of the mid range and a generous peppering of sparkling chimes taking up the summit frequencies). His compositions are spacious and, unlike some more forceful soundtracks, tend to unfurl into being over time. The delicate arrangements and the extended use of traditional Japanese music styles and instrumentation render the music swollen with a heavy dampness of sound, kind of primal yet dignified. For me the music is a striking metaphor for a combination of nature and tradition - just like the series itself.

The audio of Mushi-Shi is rich and well recorded. It's hard to tell if the creaking of bamboo is part of the song or an independent sound effect.

With this solid praise, it should be noted that Mushi-Shi and its music would definitely not be for everyone. I happen to love ambient-based music and am very interested in Japanese traditions. The speed of both the music and the series may, for some, be dull and drawn out. Also, I would like to add that the music gains just as much from the anime as the anime from the music. If you are thinking of just listening to the soundtrack and giving the anime a miss, I would recommend either just biting the bullet and watching the show or spending your time on another more attractive one; when separated, the two lose a lot of their power - a testament, I suppose, to the harmony I spoke of earlier.

At the end of the day, if you're in the market for a new immersive series or an episodic show with aesthetics (as opposed to plot) at its heart, look no further. If you let it, Mushi-Shi has the potential to be both captivating and relaxing - the perfect thing to watch after a long hard day at work. And, best of all, by the time your done the soundtrack will be laden with emotional connotations embedded in it from the series, ready to impart a truly amazing audio experience well worth your time.

Personal rating: 7.7/10

Bastion OST

Developed by just seven people - now that's an accomplishment.

Considering the growing popularity of Bastion and its soundtrack I think it is a good place to make a start. Bastion is a great little indie game developed by Supergiant Games and released in September 2010 to widespread critical acclaim. It follows the post-apocalyptic missions of a young boy who traverses beautifully painted landscapes fighting off various enemies in an arcade style smash-em-up RPG with a difference. The difference? An engaging and moving storyline powered by a stunning soundtrack by singer and songwriter, Darren Korb.

The moment the menu screen pops up the player is introduced to the tone of Bastion with some clear but slightly heavy acoustic guitar later accompanied by the characteristic lo-fi drums which give both the song and game a strong flow and which fit perfectly with the arcade styled combat. The music gets me rearing for battle but at the same time reminds me that the game, however fun, has an edge of seriousness to it.

Addictive game-play enhanced by an addictive soundtrack.

It is clear that Darren Korb is a highly skilled guitarist, not to mention sound designer. Just listen to A Proper Story and you will see what I mean. His fervor really rubs off on the fight scenes perfectly, getting the player pumped for another encounter with a horde of slime balls. Although the soundtrack is dominated by Korb's guitar work (not a bad thing at all as you will see) his compositions include a sitar (The Sole Regret and Terminal March), an array of synthetic and sampled sounds/drums (Mine, Windbag, Mine) and violin (Percy's Escape) - all to great effect, giving the game attitude and an engrossing atmosphere throughout.

When faced with a story as emotionally poignant as Bastion's it is important for a soundtrack to shift gear from arcade battle scene to a more gentle soundscape which, in the case of this storyline, evokes feelings of pity, calm, sorrow and even loneliness. Spoiling this game would be a criminal offense so I will not say more about the storyline and the ending - but suffice it to say, with songs like Setting Sail, Coming Home, which was nominated for the Best Song in a Game award, and Build That Wall, which ended up taking that award, Bastion's heart wrenching music will leave you feeling as hollow as the vocals themselves. I cannot help but mention Mother I'm Here which is forever imprinted in my brain as accompanying, and in a sense creating, one of the greatest scenes in a video game - simply harrowing.

The world of Bastion is as rich and inviting as the music immersing you in it.

With all these compliments and a complete lack of negative critiques one would think I'm not much of a reviewer; the truth is that, although I tried, I couldn't think of a single bad aspect of this soundtrack. It is one which, as I grow old and begin to forget the glory of my youthful gaming, will  remain to haunt my memory and evoke that great friend of any soundtrack fan - nostalgia.

With all that I have described in this review it should not be too surprising that the soundtrack took home the prestigious Best Origional Score at the VGAs - and I must say, it really earned it. Well done Darren Korb!

The Bastion 22-track soundtrack can be bought in lossless audio (flac) from their bandcamp website for a measly 10 dollars - a steal considering all the fame and acclaim. I'm sure any support would help show the gaming industry that good soundtracks can be lucrative too - and maybe, just maybe, we can get some more like this one.

Personal rating: 7.8/10