I have grown to really like my PlayStation Vita. That's not to say I didn't like it when I first started using it, but over the last couple of weeks, my respect for the system has grown into a real fondness. With that said, the system hasn't really had a game that feels "Must Have" to me. The launch line-up is solid, and I do play a lot of Hot Shots Golf, and WipEout 2048.
But mainly, I use the Vita to play PSP games; specifically Tactics Ogre and Persona 3 Portable (the amazing music of which I've already discussed a bit tonight).
I'm looking forward to there being a few proper Vita games that I want to play half as much as I want to play P3P. Fortunately, at least one of those is on the near horizon. That game is Jonathan Mak and Shaw-Han Liem's Sound Shapes, a super-cool music game that combines a 2D platformer with a functional music sequencer.
Jason deGroot of Queasy Games walks you through the game in the video above—I had a chance to play the game and chat with Jason at GDC as well, and was very impressed with what I saw (and heard).
The collectibles in the world all trigger notes, beats and tones on a sequencer that plays across the background of the screen. Depending on where they're located on the screen, the notes will play at different times in the measure. After you've collected them, you can see them loop in the background; collected tones keep playing for several screens in either direction.
Often times, the later parts of a level will have a whole mess of notes playing over one another, and as you move to new screens, the chord underlying the notes will change, adding a lovely sense of growth and musical development.
Sound Shapes also features a full suite of creation tools, which is where things get really interesting. Of course, there are a bunch of levels included, which range from the simple to the very difficult (See the level at around 3:30 to get a sense of that), but the ability to create your own level/songs and easily share them has got me even more excited.
The game itself uses the Vita's analog controls, but the level editor smartly uses the touch-screen. This allows for a much more fluid, easy-to-use creation process, much closer to a PC sequencing program than a clumsy game-console one.
Even a game like LittleBigPlanet, which features only rudimentary tonal creation tools, has generated some very nice musical levels. So, I'm very excited to see what players come up with in Sound Shapes. Like Pixeljunk 4AM, this is a game that I could easily see someone taking onstage to actually perform with.
That's partly because the tones themselves are very cool. A sequencer is really only as good as the sounds it's making, and these sounds come from a bunch of great electronic musicians (including Deadmau5), each of whom contributed tracks to the game.
Sound Shapes looks to be yet another in a growing trend of creative indie music games that fuse traditional gameplay with music in ways that move far beyond the Guitar Hero and Dance Dance Revolution model.
The game was originally set to come out as a launch title for the Vita, so it should be finished and released in the very near future. Between this (and yeah, the coming of Persona 4: The Golden), it looks like I won't be putting my Vita down any time soon.
Groovy leaping blob
Sticky walls and sticky beats
Sequences abound!
Jonathan Blow, the creator of Braid and the upcoming puzzle-symphony The Witness, is a very cool dude. Chatting with him last week, I had this realization about what he was doing with his upcoming game—the way that his carefully crafted puzzles locked together like the motives and themes of a symphony.
So, I thought I'd ask about his favorite band. As it turns out, Blow is partial to Dirty Three, an Australian instrumental outfit made up of Warren Ellis on violin, Mick Turner on guitar, and Jim White on drums. They are super, super good.
Their music is simple, mournful even, something like a more rough-and-tumble version of the wonderful (and sadly, now defunct) San Francisco outfit Tin Hat Trio.
Blow told me he likes to listen to this music as he works; there are no distracting vocals, and each time he listens, he hears something new. I've noticed the same thing—their songs are very simple on the surface, but they carve out a wide open space for their music, creating an immersive and emotional hodgepodge with each tune.
The piece above, titled "Sea Above, Sky Below," is a great example of what they're all about. It even has a melody that comes close to the sax solo in "Careless Whisper," which earns super extra bonus points with me.
You can find more about Dirty Three and hear more music on their MySpace Page.
A symphony is a long-form composition, a collection of musical ideas tied together by shared themes and motifs. The composer weaves melodies and harmonies over the span of several movements, knitting them into a sprawling, cohesive whole. That vision is then realized by an orchestra, led by a conductor.
In a lot of ways, Jonathan Blow's upcoming game The Witness is a game design symphony. That may sound grandiose, but I don't mean it in a bland, broad sense. This game is a tightly built set of puzzles and designs, all interlocking and building on one another into a grand finale that ties everything together. The design is the symphony. The game is the orchestra. And you, the player, are the conductor.
Last week during the Game Developers Conference, I had a chance to meet with Blow for a few minutes to take a look at The Witness. I should say here that I'll be talking a bit about the game and how it works; I know that there are those of you who'd like to go into it completely fresh, and if that's you, consider this a spoiler warning.
Sounds simple, right? It is not.
Last week's meeting was far too short to get any sort of sense of this game, but fortunately I'd already played it for a couple of uninterrupted hours at Blow's sparse studio in Emeryville last spring, so I'm already familiar with how the game works.
Around that same time, Stephen Totilo had a hands-on time with the game and was similarly impressed with the richness of the game's design.
The Witness is somewhat like the classic adventure game Myst, at least on the surface. Players wander an unpopulated island, solving puzzles and solving the mystery of where they are and why. But it's actually much more than Myst—the puzzles in The Witness all relate to one another, and are an expression of Blow's distinctive approach to unified, cohesive design.
When speaking with Stephen last year, Blow said that he was inspired by Myst, but also by the non-existent games that could have been inspired by Myst but weren't.
From Stephen's article, starting with a quote from Blow:
"It's like there's some really fucking awesome game like Myst that nobody ever made because it was filled with all of these illogical puzzles and stuff, right?"
I didn't follow. He was inspired by an imaginary game?
"I can picture in my head what that game would be," he said. "I'm letting that inspire me. I'm not saying [The Witness] is that game either but this is sort of like if those games… if, instead of people making a thousand shitty Myst clones, they actually successfully improved the genre over time. This would be inspired by those. But as it stands, actually, a lot of those games are an anti-inspiration." He explained that the successors of Myst were full of obscure puzzles and confusing graphics that made it hard to determine what was a puzzle and what wasn't. They played by strange rules.
The Witness' rules may seem strange at first, but as you play, they are revealed to be highly logical. Every puzzle represents a motif of sorts—the puzzles are all start as small grids on a blue monitor, and each one requires tracing lines in a certain pattern around a grid. Sounds simple, right? It is not.
The monitors serve as a jumping-off point for more involved, elaborate puzzles. In other words, each one represents an opening design motif that is part of a grander piece. Solving any given puzzle means figuring out its rules—in one, you may have to trace the lines to cover dark spots on the grid. In another, you may have to trace the outline of an object in the background. Once you've determined each puzzle's rules, it becomes clearer and clearer how it fits together with the other puzzles surrounding it.
Each of these puzzles represents a motif. Each area of the island is a movement. They island itself is the symphony. Back when I played last year, I found myself solving a series of connected puzzles while standing on a large mechanical structure. Each time I solved a puzzle, the structure would move and rearrange itself. It wasn't until later, when Blow turned on no-clipping mode and flew me around the level, that I realized what I'd missed. The structure itself was a reflection of the puzzles I'd been solving, and its final solution required me to fit its pieces together in a way that mirrored its component parts.
The island of The Witness is shrouded in mystery, but that's not an accident or the result of lazy design. Everything here is of a piece, and it's all building toward a finale that incorporates aspects of the entire experience that leads up to it. Blow didn't show me how the game ends; to do that would be to rob the experience of much of its meaning. The catharsis provided by The Witness' finale won't be due to some character-based revelation or some epic boss encounter. Its catharsis will come from a culmination of the design ideas put forth and explored in the game leading up to that point.
The Witness isn't the first game to take this approach, but its one of the purest. Even a Zelda game, which follows a similar format to the one I just described, feels a bit noisy next to The Witness. Where Zelda games give you multiple tools to solve each puzzle, The Witness gives you none—the puzzles are the game, and you have only one point of contact with which to manipulate them (almost like a conductor's baton, now that I think about it.)
The Witness lives and breathes in its puzzles, and as a result feels more composed. So when I step back and consider it, I can't help but be reminded of a symphony. While many famous symphonic finales introduce new-sounding melodic themes, those themes are usually based in part on the motifs that have preceded them. The finale is where a composer weaves together the motifs he or she has established in the preceding movements, creating a fully realized climax to the work. And hey, because this is Kotaku Melodic, let me show you what I'm talking about by sharing one of my favorite symphonic finales of all time:
Shostakovich's fifth symphony is an astonishing creation, a roiling mix of stabbing violin lines, eerie and beautiful woodwind melodies, and crushing, oppressive brass. It was written as a protest against the tyranny of Stalin's regime, and its musical motifs bear that out. The opening violin motif from the first movement (with which many are familiar) ends with three As, repeated by the violins.
Those "A"s feature throughout the symphony, until finally reaching a resolution during the crashing section at 9:15 in the video above. Notice how the violins are playing that "A," over and over. The minute you hear it, you can't un-hear it—it's weird, right? We have the huge brass, the crushing russian bear, playing this triumphant melody over the constant screams of the violins.
That screaming note was an echo of the screams of the people, crushed beneath the unstoppable brass anthems of Stalin's regime.
That jarring, repeated "A" was no accident. When he composed this symphony, Shostakovich had been in trouble with the state for the subversive nature of some of his work, notably his opera Lady MacBeth of the Mtsensk District. He was in a very real danger of being labeled an enemy of the state, and his fifth symphony was to be his return to favor. And it was—it was hailed as a great Russian symphony by those in power. But the public understood what he was really saying, they knew what that shrieking "A" represented. That screaming note was an echo of the screams of the people, crushed beneath the unstoppable brass anthems of Stalin's regime.
That's just one (particularly dramatic) example of how a symphony ties its themes together to make a statement. And while The Witness does not appear to aspire to anything as outwardly grand as a cry of rebellion against an oppressive government, it remains remarkable how thoroughly it explores its mechanical themes.
Structure and form, discipline and growth, theme and variation—this is the stuff of great musical composition and great game design. So many games allow for out-of-place mechanics, odd boss battles, and formula-breaking finale levels that deviate hugely from their design up to that point.
Games like Geist, the first couple of Assassin's Creed games, Uncharted 2, Halo and Halo 3, Deus Ex: Human Revolution—all jettisoned the systems they had developed in order to change things up for the finale, rather than ending in a manner that felt in tune with the rest of the game. That approach isn't always a bad thing, but often those kinds of games can feel like a heavy metal performance dropped at the end of an orchestral symphony—they may be kind of cool on their own, but they hurt the cohesiveness of the broader work.
Blow's The Witness is an ambitious game, not in its scale but in the tightly wrought depth of its design. Blow and his team are now completing the art, squashing bugs, and preparing for release. He's not yet sure which platforms it will be released on, but I hope to see it on the iPad as well as the PC. The puzzles would lend themselves splendidly to a touch-screen interface.
The Witness represents an unusually focused stab at creating a game design symphony, a collection of puzzles and interlocking systems that layer and build until the final notes are ringing out and the work is complete. It's a symphony I plan to attend on opening night.
The generous and good-spirited people over at OverClock ReMix have released another remix collection, and it's a whopper—a 4-disc set of tunes from Mega Man X titled Maverick Rising.
I've always enjoyed their work, most recently this great baroque-style duet from Mega Man 9, so this should be a real treat. You can download the album from the link below, and check out a full trailer above.
If you bought a copy of the magazine Computer Gaming World in the early 2000's, chances are you heard a track by Tomas Diablo. The magazine was one of several PC-centric gaming mags that would come with a bundled CD each month. One of my fondest gaming memories was the PC Gamer CD, upon which I believe I once grabbed a demo copy of The Descent, which I proceeded to play over and over again.
When you put the CD into your computer's CD drive, you'd be taken to a menu—and in CGW's case, that menu would have music. Thanks to alert reader Paul Woolverton, who sent in this page from Tomas Diablo, the man who created the music that played in 28 consecutive CGW CD main menus.
Now that is a different kind of menu music, isn't it! As I mentioned, I was much more of a PC Gamer guy myself, but I did read CGW from time to time. Diablo's tracks are all very enjoyable, and can be downloaded for free from his site. They're also on YouTube—here are three that I particularly enjoyed.
"Rumor Mambo"
- Dig that augmented James Bond-style sharp fifth. From Diablo's site:
The Rumour Mambo begins with a simple mambo beat, supported by vocal percussion, but quickly becomes something quite different. A James Bond-esque guitar from a Henry Mancini cover combines with an all too familiar bassline from the founders of Lollapolooza. The track continues to evolve with two separate samples from Siouxsie. By the end of the track Brian Setzer, singing "But there's something you should know," mirrors Siouxsie's "I heard a rumour", further distinguishing 'Rumour Mambo' as the bastard child of Alt Rock and Lounge.
"Crucify The Verse"
An evocative, ultimately soothing piece of music. Diablo says that he combined Antonio Carlos Jobim with some Sarah Vaughn, Gershwin's "Someone to Watch Over Me," and some beats. What? Man, who is this guy? This is some extra-great stuff. This one is probably my favorite.
"Shadow Lover"
Another great mash-up of Harry Connick Jr and K.D. Lang. The coolness continues.
I'm so happy to see great music like this out in the open again—all of the tracks on Diablo's site are great, and available for free download. For those of you who subscribed to Computer Gaming World, this is a trip down memory lane. But even without that gaming hook, this is an outstanding collection of tracks, perfect for chilling out, browsing menus, or even learning about PC Games.
I (and everyone else on the planet basically) loved the music to Bastion. Now, SuperGiant is selling sheet music for four of the songs from the game.
Awesome. These tunes are simple enough that just about anyone could learn them, yet iconic and fun to play. Especially if you match composer Darren Korb's dropped guitar tunings.
I (and everyone else on the planet basically) loved the music to Bastion. Now, SuperGiant is sharing sheet music for four of the songs from the game. Best of all they're free, not for sale like I originally thought.
Awesome. These tunes are simple enough that just about anyone could learn them, yet iconic and fun to play. Especially if you match composer Darren Korb's dropped guitar tunings. Each one is a free .PDF download.
Few composers have defined game music the way Yuzo Koshiro has. A prolific musician spanning many genres, his soundtracks for games like Streets of Rage and Actraiser are almost required listening to game music nerds everywhere.
Today on the Kotaku Mix Tape, we're giving you a tiny sample of Yuzo Koshiro's works. In the video above are a handful of the classics as well as some of the more obscure B-sides for the more seasoned Koshiro fans out there.
THE PLAYLIST:
The Revenge of Shinobi - China Town
Actraiser - Filmore (Symphonic)
Misty Blue - Escape
Amazing Island - Elder's Hut
Streets of Rage - The Street of Rage
Eye of the Beholder (Sega CD Edition) - Dungeon Theme
The Scheme - Thousand Eyes (Arranged)
Streets of Rage II - Go Straight
Happy listening!
Got an idea for the Kotaku Mixtape? Drop us a line in the comments!
When I think of epic JRPG battle music, I usually think of driving guitars, pulsing drums, and soaring melodies. I do not, generally, think of weird funky hip-hop and a lady singing "Baby, baby, baby, baby" over and over again.
And yet that's exactly what Persona 3's battle music is, and damned if it isn't fantastic. In fact, this game's entire soundtrack is one of the best I've heard in recent memory.
Over the last month or so, I've finally been addressing my Persona blind-spot, sinking a ton of free time into the PSP version of the game (played on my Vita, naturally). I am in full-on, hearts-on-fire love with this game. I will have more to say about it once I finish (and yes, I do plan to finish, 100-hour length be damned). But for now: Music.
Persona 3 is basically "Surviving High School meets Buffy the Vampire Slayer meets a hardcore JRPG." Anyone who knows me at all knows this is... well, it is a game that is very much "for me." I've even written about how I want more games set in high school, and the fact that I wrote that without playing Persona first is, yes, a huge oversight on my part.
But I'm rectifying that now. As much as I like the story, characters, and gameplay of Persona 3, I think like the music even more. Let's listen to some tracks, shall we?
"Mass Destruction"
"Mass Destruction" is Persona 3's primary battle theme. It, like the rest of the soundtrack, was written by Shōji Meguro, with rapping by Lotus Juice and vocals by Yumi Kawamura.
For anyone who has played Persona 3, I'd imagine hearing this track (which is actually called "Mass Destruction") provides a memory-blast like a SEES pistol-shot to the head. Anyone who hasn't played Persona 3 will probably hear this and think "What the eff is this crap? Who is this jive-ass rapper? What is with the weird horn parts? What is going on?"
There may be no better example of a song that is entirely dependent on its corresponding game. It may sound like a goofy jam to the untrained ear, but as YouTube Commenter Rondart puts it:
No other VGM has generated a more "love it or hate it" comments. People disliked it for it trying too hard to be hip-hoppy, while some people hear nothing but pure, concentrated AWESOME.
Imagine this: I'm battling Grim Reaper wielding two Colt Buntlines while I shoot myself in the head to bring this huge ass winged dragon to kill Death himself with two girls and an android girl wearing maid suits, all the while listening to some very uplifting hip-hop.
How is that not awesome? OH YEAH!
I agree so hard, YouTube Commenter Rondart! You know what you're talking about.
(God help me, I just quoted and then agreed with a YouTube commenter.)
When the chorus comes around, and the singer belts out that "Ooh yeah"... by that time, I'm usually so far in the groove that I can't help but rock out. Usually, Mitsuru is busting out a pistol to lay waste to some creatures, my mind is moving quickly to plan out my next few moves... it pushes the energy of the scene in a way that is exciting and distinctive.
"Persona"
When cruising around Tartarus, rather than the default music, I always ask Fuuka to play this one, titled "Persona": It's so grooving. This tune is especially great for when I tell my team to split up, when we're moving through levels we've already beaten looking for missing people. Love it.
"Iwatodai Dorm"
This is another weird one that is probably a bit divisive. I've only played the first fifth or so of the game, and this track, which plays in the dorm, is already one of the game's most instantly evocative tunes. The angular horn melody, that weird violin countermelody... I've never heard anything quite like this in a video game. I'm listening to it as I type this, when all I want to do is go chat up Yukari before heading into my room to study. While a wolf howls.
"Master of Shadow"
This music plays whenever players face off against one of the shadows outside of Tartarus, and man... as excellent as "Mass Destruction" is, this one actually gets me more pumped up. Those battles often come down to the wire, and require focus and planning—and nothing makes me focus quite like that synth line.
There are so many other great tracks in this game, and plenty of others that I doubtless haven't heard yet. I'm very happy to be finally digging into the world of Shin Megami Tensei, and the music of Shōji Meguro.
Okay! Think it's time to go play more Persona 3.
(Top image found on Tumblr with no credit - there is too much Persona 3 fan art out there to track down whoever did it, but if you did, drop me a line and I'll credit you.)
Greetings one and all, and welcome to Kotaku Melodic. We had a week off last week, but we're back with two hours of the very best stuff from the worlds of music, video games, and music in video games. We got a whole bunch of posts planned, so turn up your speakers, grab some headphones, and enjoy!
As always, there's a two-drink minimum, and no flash photography, please. An 18% gratuity will be added for parties of eight or more.
Each of these puzzles represents a motif. Each area of the island is a movement. They island itself is the symphony. Back when I played last year, I found myself solving a series of connected puzzles while standing on a large mechanical structure. Each time I solved a puzzle, the structure would move and rearrange itself. It wasn't until later, when Blow turned on no-clipping mode and flew me around the level, that I realized what I'd missed. The structure itself was a reflection of the puzzles I'd been solving, and its final solution required me to fit its pieces together in a way that mirrored its component parts.
I (and everyone else on the planet basically) 
When I think of epic JRPG battle music, I usually think of driving guitars, pulsing drums, and soaring melodies. I do not, generally, think of weird funky hip-hop and a lady singing "Baby, baby, baby, baby" over and over again.
