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These Level theme remixes are amazing... Check them out!
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I produce music regularly. Now I’m taking requests. Know a game developer? Point them my way!
Pokemon Red & Blue - "Route 11"
Way, way back, I suggested that the unsung hero of the Pokémon series was its explorative element; I'd like to go a little further into that as a way of discussing today's song.
More than almost any other series, Pokémon is based around a personal relationship to the game. While you make no moral choices and have no defined personality, the way that you play is entirely based around your personal interests. While players were happy to see character customization in X and Y, it was almost unnecessary; the very aspect of training Pocket Monsters and developing your team is a far greater form of customization than a different hat or shirt.
(This is, incidentally, probably a major reason for its extreme and enduring popularity. From its wide availability of characters and moves to that sense each player gets when he or she finds that perfect Pokémon, it's a series that knows and owns its appeal.)
But this customization factor is only one part of why Pokémon is so strong, and for the other I'd like to look at its world. Exploring in Pokémon has gotten more linear over time, but it's always been liberal with secret areas, backtracking, and elaborate puzzles. The original Red and Blue, in particular, were almost akin to Metroidvania games; they cut paths off and demanded you find new ones, most areas demanded repeat visits to further the plot, and the game itself demanded exploration.
But unlike the dark tension of Metroid, Pokémon has always been about the excitement of exploration. It's that sense when you see some odd feature of the road, wondering what you need to uncover its secrets. It's finding stretches of tall grass, knowing that a wonderful, crazy new monster could be there. In that way, This has a way of personally galvanizing players, who are presented with danger and the unknown, but also the high chance of finding something new.
The linked music is probably among the most well known tracks in the entire series, despite only being part of a fairly nondescript area, and it's entirely because of this sense. When this starts up on Route 11, you're given a choice: do you take the mysterious Diglett's Cave (allowing you access to the previously cut off Pewter City) or trek east to Route 12 (before getting stopped by Snorlax, a new and difficult challenge)? When the piece returns on 12, it's far on a far more linear area, but the paths of Silence Bridge and Route 13's maze present a number of opportunities for secret items and paths. And all the while this track, a simple yet heroic adventure theme, urges you to press forward into the unknown.
Donkey Kong Country: Tropical Freeze - "Mangrove Cove"
In general, I'm not a huge fan of Donkey Kong Country. I appreciate much of Rare's work on the series (though I feel they peaked with the first two Banjo-Kazooie games), and I understand the appeal of its lackadaisical tone, but I've just never gotten into it. Part of it is the graphics; like Mortal Kombat, it's pre-rendered visuals looked exciting in 1994 but are terribly dated today. It's difficulty seems to swerve wildly, a common occurrence in the company's games. And beyond its fantastic music, it's presentation always appeared weak. While I enjoyed it, Retro Studios' 2010 reboot didn't manage to excite me; because of this, I haven't played the sequel Tropical Freeze. But I wanted to highlight it here because it shows off some fantastic work from longtime Kong composer David Wise.
I singled out the Kong music earlier, because its probably the aspect of the series that's held up the best. As incongruous as I sometimes find it, the soundtrack was able to oscillate comfortably between jazzy swing, slow melodrama, and darker tension. That's present in Tropical Freeze much more than in Returns, to the point where it's much more comfortable using zany and lighthearted pieces like this one.
(Incidentally, it's weird that that earlier tension works at all. I always saw Country as a sillier, even less dramatic Mario.)
It's odd how rare island, or tropical levels are in Smash, considering both it and Nintendo in general's love of visual tropes in their levels. Beach, island, and shore levels often give their games a low-key tone that's both enjoyably different and just plain enjoyable. And a big part of that is due to music like this.
Super Metroid - "Lower Norfair"
One of the common complaints about Metroid's representation in Smash has been in its consistent use of lava or otherwise cavernous, heat-themed stages to represent the series. And for a series that spans such diverse territory (particularly in the Prime subseries, in which Samus trekked from wide tundras to cyberpunk ghost towns), that can be disappointing.
But there's a legitimate reason as to why these stages were picked, even though their frequency has gotten somewhat predictable. Metroid at its heart is a series about dark territory, and how we explore these places even against our better judgment. It's backtracking and immaculately-designed levels constantly press the player to move further into more hostile terrain. It's notable that of the two series that codified and gave their names to the genre of "Metroidvania," Castlevania makes the player move largely up and to the right (emphasizing its classic gameplay), while Metroid often starts at the top and moves further down, inherently closing players off at the same time as the exploration empowers them.
In other words, increasingly hazardous caves lit primarily by molten death are really the classic Metroid levels, in the same way that a grassy/block-strewn landscape is the Mario level. And the theme from the Lower, hotter, far more underground section of Norfair is likely its greatest argument. While bombastic, its synthesized instrumentation is almost warm, making the atmosphere feel thick and hazy. It's industrial side is in stark contrast to the acoustic and vibrancy throughout the rest of Zebes, and a prelude to the second fight with Ridley.
The quality of this piece was not unnoticed by Retro Studios, who remixed it for Magmoor Caverns, itself very much in the style of these kinds of levels. While I think that Retro's is very good, and likely the best we'd ever get for a "traditional" remix of the piece, I do think that its higher quality of sound actually removes a little of that mechanical, grinding sound that made the original so good. Honestly, though, it's not really that important; both are strong examples of the power of these kinds of areas, not just in general but especially for Metroid.
Super Mario Galaxy - "Bowser's Galaxy Reactor"
When I started this Week, I was surprised that the first thought I had about these pieces was that, functionally, they don't really make sense. Mario has always been joyous yet calm, an odd yet common case of a video game protagonist wielding oodles of personality while beyond largely devoid of character. His world is bright and cheerful, his nemesis a lovable oaf; even the grunts of the Koopa Troop, less true enemies than minor obstacles, now dance to the games' overworld music.
This piece may actually be the best example of this. It's the theme of Bowser's final lair, an extensive gauntlet slowly rebuilding the entire universe in his image. The year before, Bowser lazily treated the events of New Super Mario Bros like a drunken holiday weekend; the level design here, in contrast, is emblematic of the greater animosity he shows and the danger he represents. Yet, it works. There should be no reason why the increased stakes concern us, but the buildup to the fight with Bowser is steady and powerful.
I think I know why pieces like this work in Mario Galaxy, how it can get a sense of dramatic excitement even without a developed or interesting story. It's because the drama comes not from conflict, but adventure. Mario and Nintendo have built their best work on exploring unknown terrain with confidence; you can see it in all their best works. But while the GameCube was an era of extensive, often rewarding, experimentation, Mario often felt unsure of himself or his place in the company. It makes sense that only a year after the safe, predictable, and perfectly mediocre New Mario that the plumber's escapades in the cosmos would be near the apex of his wildest and greatest adventures.
I'd also like to make note of its own sequel song, "Bowser's Galaxy Generator," from Galaxy 2. While I find the first to be the functionally stronger (and certainly more original) piece, I personally prefer this one. It's increased beat is wild and fun, and I find that it gets to that palpable excitement more quickly. If I had to choose, I'd probably go with the former; I respect it more. But I'd like to think that My Music and the inevitably massive size of the Wii U version will greatly alleviate the need to parcel out our music options. I'm not going to count it as separate, but consider it a second recommendation; together, they represent Mario Galaxy's wonder at its most incongruously wonderful.
Super Mario Galaxy 2 - "Fluffy Buff Galaxy"
Despite its incredible and vast soundtrack, the first Mario Galaxy has an obvious and clear choice for its most iconic song: "Gusty Garden Galaxy," which best showed the game's thrill of excitement, and has been remixed multiple times and found its way into Smash. It's a genuine achievement for composer Mahito Yokota, a standout in a score of nothing but standouts.
I mentioned on Monday that Super Mario Galaxy 2 was a game fundamentally attempting to stake out an identity despite having a litany of obstacles in its way. For a company like Nintendo, which is both lauded for its innovations criticized for its reliance on nostalgia, sequels are always odd affairs. The first three NES Super Mario Bros each had distinct art styles and models that highlighted their unique features, but the mediocre New Super Mario Bros series shows its nature by copying art styles, animations, and presentation wholesale.
In that regard, Galaxy 2 was in a curious position, as it was by its nature designed to be the cookie-cutter sequel for a game that was fundamentally about innovation: of platform gameplay and level design, of environments and art style. The developers, instead of trying to make a sequel or just rest on their laurels, instead turned their game from a sequel to a remix. Infant Piranha Plants were switched, Rosalina's Observatory turned into Starship Mario, and the wild floating beanstalk of Gusty Garden was reimagined as the homey mountain of Fluffy Buff, where Mario first finds the Cloud Flower.
This piece is clearly referencing the first game's song; I find its openness in that regard commendable. But while it doesn't manage to achieve the iconic beats of its predecessor, it's elaborate design is just as much a delight to hear. Where "Gusty" is clear and heroic, "Fluffy" is embellished and crazed, determined to prove itself while avoiding desperation. I imagine that the first Galaxy will have the vast majority of content in Smash between the two, and to its credit it is the stronger game. But when I played Galaxy 2 for the first time, and heard this track as Mario leapt to dizzying heights, I knew that it was more than I first assumed.