Super Nerd Sundays Presents: The Music We Heard and the Music We Didn't Hear!

Music is a funny thing in games. It’s critical in games, all games, not just music games. And outside of music games it’s a tough balance to strike. The wrong music can ruin a game. Too mild and it’ll be completely missed, too heavy and it can overwhelm the surrounding action. Striking the right balance can be difficult, and when it happens it’s a rare and beautiful thing.

This year was particularly bad for overwhelming music. One of the biggest titles (certainly the biggest in terms of sales) Call of Duty: Black Ops, had arguably the shittiest music of any major title last year. Overbearing, rote, it’s bad at its best and, at its worst, it makes it difficult to even hear what’s going on. In a game punctuated by gunshots Call of Duty’s music somehow rises above, blacking out dialogue and removing audio cues that are usually critically to hearing enemy approaches. It’s emblematic of the manner in which Treyarch ignored all the fundamentals of design in creating their single player game, and it adds one more piece of shit on the flaming heap that was Black Ops single player.

Of course, if Treyarch embodies the potent, overwhelming shittiness of many mainstream scoring choices as far as going for bigger rather than better when you’re trying to sell a lot of units there are some great examples on the other end of the spectrum that exemplify just how to make a game with music that’s too neutral. Eufloria, a game that many people would cry havok about despite its incredibly relaxed attitude, is the perfect example.

Eufloria is a game where not a whole lot happens. Seedlings grow, they spread, you structure their growth. It’s a chill game, a game where you make tiny changes bit by bit until you dominate a map. As an example of flow based gameplay, where fundamentally simple systems with layered complexities unfold through play, Eufloria is great. As an example of an engaging, interesting game it fails pretty hard, however. It’s kind of like a thesis that someone made for a class – intellectually well crafted and praise worthy, but a bit of a dull slog if you’re not interested in investing in the theoretical concepts it explores. I spend most of my time playing with a window open on Netflix or a movie running. I actually watched Patton while steamrolling levels in Eufloria, puzzling over just what the game underneath its exploration of concept was and why anyone who doesn’t love theory would play it.

A big part of what makes Eufloria so boring and banal to play is the music. Conceptually simple games like Zen Bound can work wonders for making their games immersive experiences by making clever use of atmospheric music that draws players in and makes the game a cathartic experience rather than a conventional problem solving endeavor. But Eufloria’s music is, at best, haunting and, at worst, completely divorce from its gameplay. If Eufloria was a little less concerned with having players take their time and wait between every action, if it was less puzzling and easier to control in time sensitive situations, it wouldn’t be a big deal. But in a game with such big ideas in such a small package, music is a huge part of what can make or break an experience, and in Eufloria’s case it could’ve been something great if not for its simpering tones. It could’ve been an experience.

It’s something Puzzle Agent did as well. Puzzle Agent was a passable, in a way, if you didn’t mind the total lack of hints and its failure as an object of humor. But like Eufloria it had this bargain bin haunting music cutting through it. It’s not as flagrant or intrusive as the shitty music in, let’s say, a Call of Duty, but it’s still something that draws me out of a game, a game that’s supposed to be about immersing myself in a series of puzzles. Instead of coaxing me towards solutions it just makes me want to grab a cup of tea and take a break. It counteracts any sort of catharthisis the game might provide.

But for every indie title that uses music wrong there are dozens of others that do it right. Really, really right. Zen Bound 2, for example, has some of the finest music of any game I’ve played, and you’d never notice if you weren’t looking for it. It fits the game just right, relaxing you and coaxing you through each of the witty, original little puzzles and adding to an overall feeling of peace as you progress through its stages. It balances minimalism and structure perfectly.

Fallout: New Vegas shows that blockbusters can nail the concept just as well, although one would expect nothing less from industry veterans like Obsidian. For all the problems they’ve had as a studio, making music an excellent part of their games has not been one of them, and Fallout: New Vegas, from its occasional ambient tones and battle music to its excellent Wayne Newton centered radio programming, is a very satisfying sonic experiencee.

I could rattle off more sonic experiences here, but I’m already tired of it. Instead I’d just like to invite readers to consider the manner in which music and its design impacts their play. Its a force we ignore all too often when it’s not causing problems with our experience. Like sound design in anything else, music design in games is something that doesn’t stand out when it’s playing its cards right. It’s not something you consider, it’s not something that companies put a lot of money into and it’s something key to the experience of playing a game. The same way that multiplayer games feel like less of an experience once you turn off their music to get that edge, the same way that wildly cresendoing tones can try way too hard to make you care about an experience, music shapes our games at its best without us realizing it. So consider the way music is designed in the games you love, and think about just why it works. I’m sure some poor composer out there will appreciate your love.