Should we take video game music seriously?

The New Statesmen has just put up an article by Caroline Crampton on why classical purists should start taking video game music seriously. One gets the impressiom that more composition graduates write film and video game scores than concert music. The first name that comes to mind is Bear McCreary. He has written the soundtracks for two of my favourite shows — Battlestar Galactica and Outlander — and was student at USC Thornton School of Music in a film department that, believe it or not, choral composer Morten Lauridsen helped set up. McCreary is reaching a far larger audience than he otherwise would. This track from the Outlander soundtrack has 2.7 million views:

Film and TV soundtracks are doing extraordinarily well commercially and benefit from modern production values. But I wonder whether artistic standards have declined. Recently I watched the 1956 film The Ten Commandments, and Elmer Bernstein’s soundtrack is more impressive than what I’ve heard from Bear McCreary. (Though apparently McCreary actually studied under Bernstein.) Don’t get me wrong, McCreary’s soundtracks aren’t bad, but separated from the shows the music loses its effect. The repetitive, glossy style becomes irritating — the somewhat cliched use of percussion to stir the listener, how it all sounds so digitized… In her article Crampton nearly reveals this disparity between old and new:

Just as Hollywood film studio executives turned to established composers like Aaron Copland and Dmitri Shostakovich in the early twentieth century, today’s games designers are using the best composition talent to augment the experience of playing their titles.

Where are today’s Coplands and Shostakovichs? (Hint: they’re not writing for video games.) Anyway, here’s The Ten Commandments overture:

The video game composer Crampton most discusses is Jessica Curry, who is returning to ClassicFM, a UK classical music radio station, for another programme on video game composers. I am somewhat familiar with Curry’s music. Some years ago the game Dear Esther was released with many people praising it as the future of interactive storytelling and an example of ‘games as art’. I don’t recall being persuaded by the media brouhaha, but the premise was indeed alluring: you, the player, get to walk around a gorgeous virtual Hebridean island. Sadly, the novelty wore off quickly. Walking along a forced path by holding down a key on your keyboard — while listening to some rambling narrator — is a terribly boring experience.

(As a quick aside, by sheer chance I just today bought a copy of Samuel Johnson’s A Journey to the Western Islands of Scotland, and so far it provides a far better tour of the Hebrides than Dear Esther. Fine writing arouses one’s imagination in a way that makes CGI seem surprisingly dull.)

The Dear Esther soundtrack is alright, I guess. The best way I can describe it is crossover minimalism for piano and strings with some eerie sound effects splashed on top. Einaudi-level tedium is prevented thanks to an attractive violin part. The trailer will give you a sample, as well as some footage from the game, which I must say still looks impressive years later:

Should we take this seriously? Not really — there’s not much of substance to discuss. It is spare, relying heavily on sound effects, doused in reverb, and based around two repetitive, unchanging chords. The violin melody is welcome, but I’m not bowled over. I’m much more impressed by the Tetris theme. Writing a clever little tune is much harder than writing a soporific, ‘atmospheric’ soundtrack.

Crompton also links to an article about the Baroque music influences in the video game Assassin’s Creed Unity: Dead Kings. The article is nonsense. We are told that the game ‘takes place in revolution-era France, and its developers wanted a soundtrack that reflected the period.’ Do you see the problem yet? According to the article, his influences are Bach (d. 1750), Vivaldi (d. 1741), Handel (d. 1759) and Telemann (d. 1767). How is one supposed to take video game music seriously when its composers and advocates don’t seem to know that the Baroque era ended decades before the revolutionary era? The composer should have been listening to Haydn, not Handel. What’s worse, he attempts to make the soundtrack sound Baroque in the laziest and most useless of ways. Rather than assimilating Baroque style, he simply writes the same music but with some Baroque instrumentation. If one plays Beethoven on a harpsichord it doesn’t make it Baroque, and if one plays Bach on piano it still remains Baroque. Here’s the soundtrack:

Considering that she’s writing for a left-wing journal, it is amusing how Crompton justifies video game music in a drearily capitalist way: ‘Above all, [video game composers] have a vast global audience listening to their music. An art form that is so widely consumed deserves to be taken seriously.’ Notice the use of market language like ‘consumed’. You could say this about any product. What does extent and volume of consumption have to do with aesthetic value?

Still, it is an interesting question as to why soundtracks are popular. I would suggest they are enjoyed mostly for the memory it evokes — playing the video game. While I remember a great deal of soundtracks — film, games, TV, or more general soundtracks to life — I remember them because of their context, whereas I remember Tchaikovsky’s Sixth Symphony almost totally for the musical content. Music is increasingly auxiliary to life; we celebrate it as a memory aid, a mood-setter, and video game music is a continuation of that. I take interest in the music that is essential — loved for its own sake.

So video game music doesn’t belong alongside classical music. Crompton has a little dig at BBC Radio 3 for not being ‘broadminded enough’ to play video game soundtracks. I doubt Radio 1 or Capital FM will be broadminded enough to have a classical programme. Tolerance and open-mindedness are usually one-way streets. I’m no ‘purist’ but I do fear that the few remaining havens of classical music will be forced to capitulate to the dominant culture and will get nothing in return. There’s no evidence that soundtracks and crossover music expand the reach of classical music.

Okay, so I don’t seem like a total curmudgeon, here’s a video game theme I like. It’s a pleasant enough tune, slightly stirring, cheesy and dated, but I only really like it for the memory of my younger self playing it on a decrepit old laptop; the laptop was so awful that, though it was the late 2000s, I couldn’t play anything made after about 1998. This game was made in 1995. Charm and nostalgia are invariably for things that were quite imperfect. Flat screen televisions will never seem charming in the way boxy old monochrome CRT televisions are. But anyway, here’s the theme — synthesised strings, heavy reverb and all:


Buffy, 20 Years On

(Beware, some spoilers follow.)

Well, fewer than 10 years on for some of us. Having first been introduced to it by Dad when I was a mere whipper-snapper, I fell utterly in love the show. (This isn’t, by the way, the reason for the blog name.) Like so many, I’ve watched it several times since, and God willing, I’ll watch it several times more. Yes, there is a tendency to have a rose-tinted view of the show. The first season is good, but not great, and suffered especially for its tedious synthesised background music (though I’m unusually sensitive to this). It also had no profound or dazzling episodes, and that sarcastic, clever banter wasn’t quite fully developed. There are also many very weak story arcs throughout its seven seasons: the Buffy-Riley romance, the creation of the cyborg Adam, and to be quite honest, the whole battle against the First thing never did it for me.

But what made Buffy so remarkable was that it gave us some of the most exceptional single episodes ever to flicker to before our eyes, and characters whose rise and fall, whose wealth of idiosyncrasies, were magnetic to watch.

The moment the show got really good was when Spike came on. His character was the most transformative and the most transformed — but most all, he epitomised cool. Here’s the moment:

But that kind of theatrical fun is not the main reason Buffy is loved. Death, for instance, was handled masterly on the show — and main characters, characters you came to love, were far from unkillable. One of the most heart-wrenching scenes was when Buffy found her mother, sprawled out on the sofa, dead. The clip below doesn’t quite give you the full impact. There are some wonderful moments cut, such as when Buffy opens the backdoor and hears the birds and wind and the sounds of life going on — of normality — and that moment lingers for so long, and so painfully. You realise that, yes, this is a fantasy world of vampires and demons, but it’s still authentically our world, one where death still happens for no reason, honour or purpose.

An episode everyone remembers is Hush. The Gentlemen — hideously frightening levitating demons in immaculate suits — have come to Sunnyville and removed everyone’s ability to speak. The episode proceeds, essentially, in silence. It doesn’t get more stylish (not to mention scary) than this:

Ah, but the Buffy episode that might one up this is the opposite of silence — it’s the musical episode. A demon — this time a red one, though still with an immaculate suit — comes to Sunnyville and makes it so that everyone bursts into song. There is, of course, a catch: eventually one sings too much and bursts into flames. But before then, how marvellous it is! I’m not partial to this style of music — the over-the-top show-stopping power-pop kind — but some of the songs are really quite intelligent, and all enjoyable to hear and watch.

This song has everything: ridiculous monsters, odd musical transitions, amusing choreography, the best pun ever by Giles (‘she needs backup!), and a devastatingly sad ending. Beware, a pretty big spoiler contained in the lyrics — actually, two of them. To avoid them, stop watching before 2:20:

One invariably reads in retrospectives on Buffy discussions of its feminism. I think that’s probably fair (and I feel obliged to add that I say this even as a self-styled well-tempered reactionary). Okay, Sarah Michelle Geller as Buffy made for an extremely attractive blonde female lead, and I’d argue she wasn’t the most interesting character in the show. But none of the women are mere love interests, and all are deep complicated characters whose importance to the show is equal to any of the men, to the extent one can (or needs to) measure such things. This is to say, none are victims to be rescued — that role is reserved for the hapless yet lovable Xander, whose lack of usefulness to the gang becomes the subject of yet another of the show’s best episodes, The Zeppo.

I’m not sure how to wind this up — fans of anything are well-known for being interminable on the subject. But I do know where I wanted to end, with the theme tune, and it’s by a punk band who’s name is even more ridiculous than Buffy: Nerf Herder. Enjoy…