As strange as it may sound coming from someone who can remember the most superfluous aspect about any given video game, I can’t quite remember what my initial thoughts were when I first heard that Mega Man X and his comrades would be crossing over into the RPG world. While former series director Keiji Inafune would have little problem in saying no to the idea and having nothing to do with the game’s development, I’m willing to bet I was curious. Sure, I wasn’t exactly thrilled when they announced the team behind the game was responsible for Breath of Fire: Dragon Quarter, but given how horrendous some of the games that had “graced” the series by that point were, I figured how much more damage could they really do?
As dangerous as it is to dare developers to do their worst, for most intensive purposes the experience Capcom put forth in Mega Man X Command Mission was far from another nightmare scenario. Unfortunately, dodging the trashcan doesn’t exactly translate into a ringing endorsement either. While the game was capable of standing upright, Command Mission was a rather uninspired creation; there wasn’t really one element of the game that really stood out. As damning as such a decree may seem that didn’t stop me from picking one of these elements and exploring it on a deeper level. In the case of Mega Man X Command Mission it just so happened to be the music.
Before we get too far into what Command Mission’s audio has to offer, I have to admit I’m far from being the biggest Shinya Okada fan out there. Credited with work on the Rockman X7 and X8 Soundtracks, Okada’s taste for techno-flavored pieces hasn’t really enhanced what action-oriented Mega Man has to offer as much as it has (annoyingly) tried to declare war on musical conventions that are fine and are not in need of changing. This isn’t to say a well done techno-infused piece can’t serve a Mega Man game (it’s been done and done well) but when you try and ramrod it down amidst other hard rock/metal influenced pieces in it’s purest form it’s obviously going to stick out like the sore thumb it is.
Here in nut shell is why the musical side of Mega Man X Command Mission works. With Okada being the head composer there are no other influences to battle. In other words Okada was given a blank slate and like a kid with a freshly written check from his grandma he cashes it as hard and as quickly as he can, drenching the canvas with his sound. I can’t say I blame him, I’d love for my ideas to be heard as well if I was a composer, but this opportunity doesn’t really arise for the reason the previous explanation would imply. So how does Okada get away with such a change in style? It all goes back to the idea of crossing over. With Command Mission being a turn based RPG as opposed to an action-oriented side-scroller, did anyone know what a Mega Man RPG was supposed to sound like? The answer, as if it needs to be said, is no. No one had a clue what a Mega Man role playing game was meant to sound like unlike an early Breath of Fire title, titles that were known for their epic, regal flavor.
So given that Okada is one lucky son-of-a-gun for landing the composing role for this game, is his work notable just because it breaks away from the norm or is it notable because it actually has some merit? The stone-cold truth would have me tell you it leans more towards the former, but my experiences with music would have me tell you it’s between the two extremes. As unimpressive and short as some of these pieces really are (check out the insanely insipid “Abyssal World”) there are others that truly bring the score to life. The quick-witted “Maverick Hunt II” and brooding “The Judgment of Truth” don’t seem too special at first but eventually prove themselves as some of the album’s must-listen tunes. Other tracks like the subversive “Unknown Energy” fly under the radar for so long it’s truly something when they finally pop out the woodwork and expose themselves for the wonderful works they are.
Still, if I was going to complement anything present on the Command Mission soundtrack, I would have to pick Okada’s character themes. In the game, some of these characters are as disposable as the cliches they ultimately portray. Yet this can’t be said when “Cinnamon Worries Endlessly,” “The Cheerful Thief Marino” and “Steel Massimo” come across one speakers. It says a lot when a composer can make one reflect on otherwise forgetable characters, the last two being especially powerful and also employed as battle themes.
CONCLUSION: As one would expect being part of a decent yet rather unimpressive product, the Rockman X Command Mission Original Soundtrack is far from being a must-have release. It’s interesting in a variety of ways but in a world where experiences are a dime a dozen and a click away it’s hard to say how many will justify even a brief excursion. Such truth laid bare, even I’m at a loss as to say how this little devil managed to worm it’s way into my heart - but then again I’m probably the exception and not the rule. Regardless, if you have the opportunity give it a chance, it just might surprise you.
When it comes to retro NES titles, I find it rather odd that Mighty Final Fight is the quote unquote rarest game I was looking to add to my collection. While I'll admit the SNES port of the arcade original is where Final Fight started for most, I can't say that title is why Final Fight has remained at the forefront of my gaming memories for as long as it has. So given that, what's so special about Mighty Final Fight? How could a downscaled rendition of a SNES classic be of such note? Well, as one would expect given the formula behind it, calling Mighty Final Fight special is somewhat of a stretch, even for someone who is pretty smitten with the game. It's obvious that hundreds of games, games from the Double Dragon series, Battletoads to Sega's Streets of Rage have crossed strikingly similar terrain over the years.
As blindingly derivative as gaming can end up being, most know there are times where experiences can thrive upon their simplicity. As simple as a game like Final Fight was, there's a part of me that can't help but think that it was a bit too simplistic to really show off a (new at that time) console like the SNES. This isn't to say I was disappointed with Final Fight, but to say it was a quantum leap over the last generation of brawlers (beyond graphics) would be a lie. It's this - the lack of any real progression - that makes Mighty Final Fight so attractive in an ironic sort of way. Simply put, there is no real sacrifice made in taking the series back a console generation. While I’ll concede that’s not exactly the most positive thing one could say about a game, the game’s super-deformed presentation has its own way of charming the player and is a worthy avenue to explore in contrast to the straight-edged look of its technologically advanced brethren.
That said, Mighty Final Fight still contains many of the irritants of the time. Despite being a last generation NES title, the amount of time the sprite layer of graphics spends flickering during game play is rather obscene. Granted, it's never enough to flat-out rail-road the experience but it does slightly mar what is an otherwise spectacular looking game. Perhaps what's even more surprising (e.g. disappointing) is the audio by Setsuo Yamamoto. I absolutely love good NES music but outside the crunchy boss theme Yamamoto's themes seem a little uncomfortable with their meandering nature. The last thing that brings the final grade down a bit is the difference power and speed have in relation to game's characters. Giving each character their own individual attributes is something that any game should implement, but as far as which one is the greater (or which one is more useful in helping you beat the game) speed has the definite edge over power since there are so many instances where speed is much more beneficial and can easily make up for the lack of power.
CONCLUSION:
Despite this, Mighty Final Fight is an enjoyable romp that is reminiscent of a simpler time. Unfortunately, the real problem with Mighty Final Fight is its cost. Again, not that you'd think it by looking at it, but the game is not exactly common and with so many other quality beat-them-ups available for a fraction of the cost, it's debatable how many will justify that cost. Those looking to experience the game while avoiding the price tag may want to check out the game on GBA where it one of the three games included in the Capcom Classic Mini Mix. Regardless of which path you choose, don't pass up on what can be experienced here just because of the art style or simplicity; Mighty Final Fight can be rather engaging if given the chance.
"Nice extras, but it's probably not worth the extra dough"
As most Mega Man fans know, Mega Man 8 on the Sega Saturn is somewhat of a rarity. Originally intended as Saturn exclusive along with the excellent Mega Man X4, this plan quickly changed when Sony made it known they were interested in bringing the games to the PlayStation as well. To the enlightened, such a story is riddled with irony considering it's widely believed Sony was more interested in showing off the 3D capabilities of their system than allowing 2D sidescrollers live on to the next generation. Tongue-in-cheek as it ended up being, in what was more of a tradeoff for the lost of the exclusive, Capcom gave the Saturn version the edge in bonus material. So what's so different about Mega Man 8 on the Saturn compared to the PlayStation? Not much, but enough to make the value of these releases as different as night and day.
As silly as it may seem, I remember being extremely upset that I couldn't fight Cut Man and Wood Man when I played through the PlayStation version all those years ago just because of what console I was playing on. These battles (and the remixed tunes that play during them) are nice touches, as are the sound, music and hidden animation test that appear in the additional bonus mode, but when you get down to it, these things mean ultimately mean little when the whole picture is considered. What am I talking about? Well, before one can really say how much these extras add one must ask how good the core game is. So, for a Mega Man game, how good is Mega Man 8? Does it sail towards the heavens or does it dwell in the darkest depths?
Shallow as it may seem, the deciding factor in Mega Man 8's failure and success ends up being graphics and art direction. Why? Well, when one considers that nothing of significant note has really changed in the gameplay department in eight games you can't really call that a defining element. For better or worse this is true, blue Mega Man. So, given that there is nothing truly new, it's easy to see why a rather superficial element such a graphics becomes important. However, this is where the game ends up divided upon itself. From a graphical standpoint the game is beautiful; I have no qualms about the quality of its 2D prowess. So what's the problem? The art direction. As if Mega Man 7 on the SNES wasn't bad enough, Mega Man 8 takes the characters and world we grew up with on the (blissfully limited) NES and shoves them through the cuteness grinder once again.
Now, I expect some to fire back with the argument that Mega Man has always been "cutesy," not necessarily in the games themselves (where the NES thankfully prohibited it) but in official artwork Capcom has produced throughout the years. Point taken, but that doesn't mean we have to indulge this and splash it all over the freaking screen. Okay, I'll admit if I want a dose of stone cold seriousness I could always pop in a Mega Man X game but I find it hysterical how Mega Man 8 is just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to this. Quite honestly I thought this game would go down as the cuddliest Mega Man game in existence but Capcom proved me wrong with Powered Up on the PSP. What's even more surprising (i.e. downright wrong) is how Mega Man 8 outsold Mega Man X4. Let me repeat that: Mega Man 8 sold more copies than Mega Man X4. How is that even possible? Here we have a game that literally adds nothing to its continuity while Mega Man X4 is a series highlight that gives the original Mega Man X a serious run for its money.
CONCLUSION:
As a product I have to say I somewhat loathe Mega Man 8. I know you can't teach an old dog new tricks but that doesn't stop pet owners from dressing up their dogs in ridiculous outfits. The truth is dogs aren't meant to wear clothes and there's no reason Mega Man needs to look uber cute. What's cute about robots fighting robots? Anyway, as hopelessly off track as I've become, I can't say this bone Capcom threw Saturn owners (it's more like a treat than a bone) is worth the extra green. Stick with the PlayStation version if you're a casual fan and only indulge in this version if you have the obsessive compulsive desire to own everything that is Mega Man.
During my later grade school years, the 16-bit machines were at the height of the industry. To most, and because of Sega's more than successful advertising, the in-thing was to own a Sega Genesis over a Super Nintendo. Seriously, anyone who grew up during this era has to remember that the "Genesis did what Nintendon't." While the Genesis would be doomed to live out its final days as the guinea pig for failed add-ons, I have to admit there were Genesis titles I was fond of despite my love for the Super Nintendo.
As if one has to guess, Sonic the Hedgehog was at the top of that list, and at the top of the Sonic the Hedgehog list was Sonic 3. While I can't remember what I had for breakfast yesterday, I can sure as hell remember playing the hell out of this game during the brief time I had access to Genesis when my friend and I temporarily traded consoles in the sixth grade. As blasphemous as some would consider it, Sonic 3 ultimately became the Sega equivalent of Donkey Kong Country to me, easily amongst the best titles the console had to offer. Yet, of course, my friend and I would eventually reacquire our respective consoles and thus I wouldn't touch Sonic 3 - let alone a Genesis - for more than a decade.
Fast forward to 2010 and I would again procure a Sega Genesis and Sonic 3. Needless to say those fond memories of playing the game remained crystal clear in the back of my mind and I was more than looking forward to reliving what I considering a gaming triumph. Unfortunately, a decade is a sizable portion of time and one can only imagine how many games I encountered and played within that frame of time - especially with the lifespan of the original PlayStation in there. So here I was, Sonic 3 in hand once again. Would it live up to the memories? Could it? I was more than curious, I was ecstatic.
So what do I think of Sonic 3 now? Well, the game is as beautiful now as it was back then (at least graphically), but time has certainly thrown it two cents into the equation. For better or worse, Sonic 3 is not the juggernaut I remember. Sure, it's enjoyable but there are several things about the Sonic formula that are way more apparent now than they were back in 1994. The first (and most surprising) is how the game's sense of speed systematically puts a limit on exploration. There are tons of hidden areas within each zone (some of which lead to the insanely awesome Chaos Emerald levels) and their respective acts but there's always an abstract force that constantly reminds you this is not your objective. The levels may be huge and ingeniously designed but with the speed fed "drive-by" approach so ingrained in the gameplay you never truly get to experience your surroundings like you would in a Mario game. I'm sure to some I'm missing the point but the game obviously wants but can't seem to juggle both.
The game also runs into a hitch with Knuckles the Echidna. As a character, I really love Knuckles despite his lack of development here. And that's the problem. I can't fathom introducing such a clever creature and only using him as a prop. This is what makes Sonic 3 feel unfinished in more ways than one, something that was more than proved when Sonic and Knuckles came out. This and the final zone somewhat unhinge all the good the game manages to do with it's new trio of elemental shields, the previously mentioned Chaos Emerald levels and the soundtrack which skillfully hides the deficiencies of the Genesis' sound processor.
CONCLUSION:
When all is said and done, if you still have access to a Sega Genesis it goes without saying that any of the cartridge based Sonic titles would make worthy additions to any growing collection. Still, as should be more than obvious to anyone that's lived a few decades, just be aware that current realities may not much up to the rosy images that have been taking up residence in your mind since your last playthrough. That said, it's somewhat revealing that I feel I have to tread with caution within the era that's billed as the "golden age of Sonic."
1-54) Battle Force Due to the piss poor attempt at arranging Wild Arms 2nd Ignition's music in any kind of logical order on this soundtrack (let's see... let's start by putting them in the order they appear in the game [somewhat] and once we get past the three introductory quests we'll just start chucking them together based on their usage! Yeah, that's a killer idea to keep people on their toes) the listener won't hear a single battle theme until track fifty-four. Track fifty-four? I wish I was kidding, but no — it's a reality. If all of the deficiencies that have been outlined up to this point weren't enough, "Battle Force" is actually one of the soundtrack's best battle themes despite its repetitious nature and lack of anything resembling complexity. This doesn't speak well on what's yet to come; still, forging an ill-opinion of this track in an effort to drive it into the ground is so easy it's like creating a bad joke that revolves around a pun. Fun as that may be, those that can turn off their creative complexity detectors will have a blast with this track as they did with "Critical Hit!" from the first game. If that's not your thing, the fact it's one of the few tracks that manages to loop twice won't be much of a consolation prize. (7/10)
1-55) Battle: Knight Blazer My speech above about the lackluster battle themes ahead was apparently a bit pre-emptive. "Battle: Knight Blazer" is a godsend in the game, able to mask particular abominations when you summon "the Blaze of Disaster" into battle. While the power of this grotesque creature teeters on the edge of absurd, there certainly isn't anything absurd about this piece. Things start out with a revenge-like call crying out into the night, the percussion and sci-fi elements sneaking in ever so slightly as the composition switches gears from the opening passage of reckless abandon to one illustrating controlled tenacity. The shifts in momentum employed by Naruke here are well executed, keeping the piece exciting though words like "epic" are far from appropriate. Perhaps what makes "Battle: Knight Blazer" stand out is how it musically defines an idea seen throughout the games in the series; that power itself is neither good nor evil. Of course, those responsible for writing the games' scenario never heard Masato Kouda's terrible remix of this track on the second volume of the Wild Arms Vth Vanguard Original Soundtrack so there are certain exceptions to this belief. (8/10)
1-56) Battle VS Mid Boss There is a lot to be said about this track; unfortunately, none of it is good. "Battle VS Mid Boss" is a piece so musically bankrupt it makes a so-so boss theme — like that from the original game — look like a masterpiece. As expected, the feeling of doom is nigh as the blaring instruments go at it, stumbling over one another in their bid for attention. It's not even the sound programming that's at fault here. This is one of the worst — if not the worst — compositions Naruke has ever penned; the brain-dead path it follows comparable to something one would expect the inexperienced to come up with as they feel their way through a new piece of software. It's somewhat more tolerable in-game when you're forced to listen to it until you cancel it out with the much more enjoyable "Battle: Knight Blazer," but this recycle bin fodder is inexcusable otherwise. (2/10)
1-57) Battle VS Kanon Analyzing what "Battle VS Kanon" brings to the table without reflecting on "W-W-What? (Zed's Theme)" from the first game is difficult because in essence this is what this track tries so hard to be — a variation or port of a previously successful track. As simple as it would seem to adjust the emotional frequency towards another character, the mixed result proves its not. Listening to Zed's theme it's crystal clear what you're suppose to feel: a goofy, overly dramatic adversary that isn't as important or powerful as he thinks he is confronts you and dispatching of this "comic relief" is meant to be fun. When it comes to "Battle VS Solid" the message is scrambled; the fear and threat that the ethnic instruments bring is unmistakable, but is there really a sense of sadness buried in here like I want to believe? If so, am I confusing the worry attached to the fear factor as that tragic sadness? It's terribly baffling when you know Kanon’s backstory. It's like playing connect the dots without the dots being numbered but still knowing what the object is. What compounds this even further is how the fanfare associated with this track feels like the missing piece, but is it the missing piece or an additional piece? After playing the game a million times I can't imagine anything else playing as Kanon devilishly assaults your weakest character (usually Tim) with Pike Kicks and Drive Cuts in her pursuit of her blind and obstinate goals. Still, Naruke could have come up with something more concrete (and original) for the female mercenary. (6/10)
1-58) Battle VS Cocytus Even as a Naruke and Wild Arms fan, it's somewhat hard to discern what makes some of these battle themes good and bad. "Battle VS Cocytus" is no different, the pluses and minuses more or less equaling out to what is best described as a fair piece of music. Naruke again makes use of the thick, oppressive texture that's by now become the calling card of Odessa based themes but this time there's a bit more ruggedness to it. It's not really what you'd call a "western ruggedness," yet it adds a dash of flavor to a predictable formula. Also accounting for some of the hidden allure is the weariness of the brass section that almost sounds as if it's mired in quicksand, providing a reprieve from the sharp melodrama that desperately tries (and fails) to recapture the magic found in Wild Arms' "Power Fighter." Still, there is only so much these elements can do to support a track that is otherwise boring and leaves little to interpret. The corresponding fanfare however... (6/10)
1-59) End of Banquet Naruke (almost) goes completely acoustic here, the cold and lonely notes giving birth to an ill omen on top of a remorseful harmony. The gothic flair does lend itself quite well to the scene in which it appears, though it's hard to give it any kind of technical nod outside the crisp clarity of the instruments. It's not a bad, great, catchy or memorable track, but it could have turned out messy or even more pompous than it already is. In the end, it's just there. (6/10)
1-60) Battle VS Vinsfield In another instance where I can say "copy and paste what I said there here," the sharp, jagged and overly dramatic instrumentation of "Battle VS Vinsfield" walks the thin line between tastefulness and tastelessness as the theme holds nothing back and goes for broke. Unattractive as the bombastic peaks are this isn't a too bad of a track, easily surpassing the aforementioned "Battle VS Mid Boss." It cannot compete, however, with a composition that can build tension without feeling as fragmented and pointed — the previously mentioned (and far superior) "Power Fighter" coming to mind. As befitting and maddening as the percussion is in presenting one of the most dangerous and charismatic minds in Filgaia, it is regrettable that Naruke took such a one-dimensional route with this one considering how it's the concluding Odessa piece in the game. Can't win them all I suppose. (5/10)
1-61) Battle VS Liz and Ard Highlighting the ill-fated battle exploits of the infamous, self-styled "master of disaster" Liz and his faithful assistant Ard ("lizard," get it?), "Battle VS Liz and Ard" is another battle theme that is highly dependant on that thick, ethnic flair Naruke cultivated in the original game with "W-W-What? (Zed's Theme)." The problem is as hard as this track tries, it is unable to escape the shadow of this composition much like "Battle VS Kanon." The difference between the two lies in the fact that the stigma associated with this connection is even greater this time around thanks in part to the overall tempo, theme and direction being so close to the "original." Eliminating any and all doubt about the message behind the piece is a positive step; the wacky banjo portraying the questionable combat tactics of these two creatures of unknown origin to a tee. Outside the warmth and comfort of its in-game context, the track doesn't have much to go on until you compare it to the "interesting" rocking heart rendition. (6/10)
1-62) Battle VS Root of Kuiper Belt To those that have played a Wild Arms game, the concept of a rustic western world that is reliant on the fragments of a bygone, technologically advanced society is not unfamiliar. As rewarding as it is to reap the rewards after scoring some of the world's coolest "toys" it is perhaps what lies beyond that is the most interesting — the unworldly. While most games in the series at least relate to this concept, it is the second installment that really runs with it. This also applies to the music; Naruke doesn't go too crazy with the notion, but once again the results are mixed. The result here is pretty damn good though; the sense of worry is a lot thicker here and is followed with a side order of dread — putting somewhat of a cap on the fun and thrill of discovery heard in "Field: Distorted Sky." Light jazz elements come into play late as the horns tease the listener, offering what will initially appear to be a lengthy reprieve from the doom and gloom before the moodiness shoots it down in a rude blaze of glory. Even though it falls short of stellar, "Battle VS Root of Kuiper Belt" creates an unfamiliar aura of oppression and makes what is a brief experience anything but brisk. Unfortunately, Naruke's success here... (7/10)
1-63) Battle vs Edgeworth=Kuiper Belt ...only magnifies her failure here, proving it only takes a moment for something that worked well enough to crash and burn next time out. "Battle VS Edgeworth = Kuiper Belt" is one hell of an example of this phenomena; none of the previous praise is applicable despite the return of the sci-fi/extraterrestrial motif. Simply put, this is just a really unattractive piece. The pushy, force-fed instruments aren't pushy in a good way, the climax is incapable of sealing the deal, and the entire thing misses the bigger, more emotional picture. While the oppressive beats musically depict the awkward jerking motion of this boss enemy's wing-like appendages the entire experience feels so soulless. What's ironic (rather problematic) about this is when one considers the sins committed to bring this abomination to life there shouldn't be anything "soulless" about. The remainder of the track — like the alien-like flute — only serves to add a layer of phoniness to what is already a misfired arrow; an arrow I wish was more in line with a heart-wrenching piece like "Last Battle" from Xenosaga. It's these unexplored possibilities that hurt this piece so much. (5/10)
1-64) You're Not Alone... "You're Not Alone..." is a peculiar track for a variety of reasons. The most confounding aspect is while it appears on the soundtrack, it is nowhere to be found in the game or in the stream/sequenced music data on either disc of the North American game. Exclusive use in the Japanese original also seems doubtful because while it contains vocals (the opening lines of "You Are Not Alone" — shocking given the title) those would have been removed during localization like the opening/ending themes. Most likely an extra thrown in for the sake of it, the explosion (?) at the end makes one reflect on the various blasts that rip though certain locals on the first disc alone. Regardless, it is a rather pointless addition to an already bloated soundtrack. Unfortunately, it won't be the last. (N/A)
1-65) Battle VS Lord Blazer If a single track expressed what Wild Arms 2nd Ignition meant to me, this would be it. No disrespect to other great tracks like "Dungeon: Ruins Type 3" or "Live Reflector" but I can't help reflect on every superfluous NPC I've run across in the course of my adventure when I hear this all encompassing tune. That's a pretty tall order for any piece of music to fill, especially when it's a reprise of the main theme minus the full-blown production seen in the opening video. This accounts for a large portion of the charm found within "Battle VS Lord Blazer;" it's not the most complex arrangement of the theme, but is the one that is the most poignant and fun. I'll admit the previous statement is somewhat skewed having taken part in the battle itself — which rocks — but the strength of the brass section and Naruke's foresight of knowing when to charge ahead and when to scale it back should not be underestimated. Wholeheartedly recommended, though those looking for a little more variety when it comes to the instrumentation may prefer the version that appears on the rocking heart arrange. (10/10)
1-41) Dungeon: Pillar of Hell Ooh! I love the title here. "Pillar of Hell" sounds so arduous and crunchy. Personally, I've always wondered if the title could be interpreted as "Diablo Pillar" considering that is what these hellish pillars go by in the game but no — it's cool the way it is. When it comes to the track itself its hard not to get sucked into the dark, empty void that looms in one's imagination as the dark notes paint a cautionary tale of trial and error. Still, what's here mainly works because of similar tracks attempting near-identical stunts — like bombastic climaxes — and bungling them or trying to present a complex buffet only to choke on the appetizer. The bombastic climax in "Pillar of Hell" is appropriate to the point where it enhances what comes before it instead of trying to justify it, while the conservative composition remembers to chew before swallowing, leaving the plate (er, slate) clean for the next serving. (7/10)
1-42) Dungeon: Heimdal Gazzo Rife with struggle, "Heimdal Gazzo" hits the listener with a piece suggesting that conflict and conclusion will be the order of the day. Everything is peachy in that respect except the words rife, hits, struggle and conflict may lead one astray in thinking this track goes all-out like "Ruins Type 2" when it doesn't. The sense of progression provided by the guitar and horns is restricted from flowing too fast and free, this constraint tightening its grip in the last half when the guitar retreats, allowing the horns to relay that while the day will be won, it won't be won without sacrifice. However, at its core the success enjoyed here really belongs to "Ruins Type 2" that grew this brand (of composition) in the first place, "Heimdal Gazzo" merely being another flavor of said brand. Even though one is more likely to discover this as they listen, this piece is able to dodge the negativity associated with rehashes due to its lovely subtext. (8/10)
1-43) Dungeon: Anastasia's World Just about every instrument in "Anastasia's World" feels symbolic of the character reflected in the title in one way or another. The interesting thing about this is how the performance that carries the composition somewhat changes between the soundtrack and the game itself; on the soundtrack the heartbeat like bass line propels the track forward as it characterizes Anastasia's love and longing for Filgaia. This is really up for grabs in the game (and mono televisions) as the angelic female harmonies and sobering piano work on much more even footing with the aforementioned bass. As such, it may seem ideal to pick an instrument to follow as the piece progresses but this is the last thing you're meant to do, the hollow feel created by their cooperation being the main draw. It's true that "hollow" sound is nothing new to the score by this point, but its how Naruke accomplishes it despite the deep bass and lack of flute that make it worth note. Alongside "Dungeon: Mystery," "Anastasia's World" fulfills its dual purpose very well, more than any of the other Anastasia related tracks. (8/10)
1-44) Dungeon: Spiral Tower A composition that aspires to sound as busy as the hum of electricity, "Spiral Tower" is not afraid to let it all hang out. It should be with that antagonistic atmosphere heard in "Dungeon: Horror" making its return. The main difference between this track and the form of energy that best represents it is while electricity is bound and focused in its effort to energize something, the elements that make up this piece are not, failing to govern one another. To put it another way, "Spiral Tower" wants it all and ends up with very little, hopelessly juggling everything including the kitchen sink. The other area where the track fails is the climax, where the same four note motif is repeated multiple times in an effort to prove this track's worth. Naruke's attempt is in vain, the track only being memorable for its overgrown sound. (5/10)
1-45) Dungeon: Center of Filgaia Not to be confused with track 2-22 "Center of Filgaia," "Dungeon: Center of Filgaia" finds Naruke revisiting the style that made "Pillar of Hell" come alive a few tracks earlier. "Heimdal Gazzo" pulled this same stunt with "Ruins Type 2" not too long ago, but this time the difference is not a change in subtext but rather an increase of intensity in the current subtext. The bad news is it comes at somewhat of a price: the climax. As mellow as this serious piece is, going from this to such a bold segment in the fraction of a second feels forced even if the hair trigger sense of despair does embody the peril of Filgaia to a tee. I can appreciate what was trying to be accomplished here (hence the high score), but a bit more build up could have been applied without diminishing the message; in fact, if implemented in a clever enough manner it could have pushed the drama beyond where it stands now. (7/10)
1-46) Castle Considering what was said about this track was back in the "Formal Ceremony" section of the review, it's understandable how one would expect "Castle" to be an unremarkable piece of music. Well, nothing has changed since then, this track being so typecast by the environment it plays in there are simply no surprises. This isn't a good thing, especially if a composer wants to keep listeners on their toes, but in the vein of "Natural Type 2" it avoids the bigger, less attractive stereotype associated with its surroundings; namely that overbearing regal sounding stuff. It's true that "Castle" does come forth with this tone but it is diverted from consuming the track due to the peaceful interlude of the flute, a reminder that while kings and queens are important a kingdom is nothing without its people. Regardless of how much a difference this small deviation from the formula used in "Formal Ceremony" makes, it won't be at the top of any of your playlists. (7/10)
1-47) Guild Galad "Guild Galad" marks the return of the flute that has allowed numerous to define their sense of being. However, to say this alone is what makes this track so alluring as opposed to a piece like "Separation" is unconscionable because the spirit captured here is the result of a strong, homogeneous mixture rather than one instrument carrying the bulk of the load. You have the nutty and kooky sound effects commenting on how life in Guild Galad (and the world) has been made easier by the technology developed here. This is all done without giving into that brainless theory that a technologically advanced location has to have a techno/electronica based theme, or is it? As rustic as "Guild Galad" is there this mysterious sensation that the aforementioned styles (present in the sound effects) are right in your face, yet are so engraved in the composition that they are almost translucent. A great experimental track that barely feels experimental, the only hitch here is the calming nature can get monotonous if heard for a prolonged period of time. (8/10)
1-48) Valeria Chateau If I was to choose one word to describe the music that is "Valeria Chateau" it would be reprieve. This isn't without reason, the Valeria Chateau being the base of operations for ARMS and where your characters rest after missions. The thickness of the acoustic guitar drives home several ideas that are expressed and tested in the game like friendship, trust, courage and perhaps most important of all, unity. The quirky interjections throughout may seem to clash with the seriousness of the above at first, though it acts more as a counterbalance to the pain these ideals cause the characters at times and how they will be confronted with strength and resolve. As significant as these concepts are to the game's storyline, they musically disallow the forceful, regal flavor found in "Castle" and "Formal Ceremony" which is a blessing here — a pompous "home base" theme would have made for a terrible piece of elevator music. (8/10)
1-49) Live Reflector Without a doubt, "Live Reflector" is one of my favorite tunes on the Wild Arms 2nd Ignition Original Soundtrack. One reason is it simply thrives despite its simplistic nature, leaving previous pretenders like "Heading far From the Sea" in the dust. However, that's a pretty superficial reason to enjoy something. Digging deeper for a real reason I'd have to say what really attracts me to this hybrid of hope and sorrow is how each emotion is tied to a single instrument: the solitary flute filling the air with a concave sense of sadness as the harp chimes in sporting a touching yet cautious sigh of hope. Neither instrument bullies the other, almost as if they've come to some sort of mutual musical agreement and it just makes me melt when I hear it. Reading about it does is no justice but it is powerful stuff, even if with the track only playing once before the fade. Do yourself a favor and check it out. (10/10)
1-50) Guardian Warm and soft, "Guardian" contains that majestic feeling one would associate with a higher power granting your request for assistance, whether its imparting a fraction of their wisdom upon you or maybe even something a bit more tangible like aid in battle. Despite my fears of how ill-fated such a composition would turn out earlier, Naruke is able to present the ying (light and mystical) to "Natural Type 2's" yang (deep and earthen) without it seeming too textbook. It does its job confidently enough but lacks that extra something that other, similar half a minute tracks seem to have. (7/10)
1-51) Tim and Colette More of a musical extension of "Hidden Village" than its own separate entity, the opening of "Tim and Colette" is ridiculously predictable for a love theme. This isn't to say the rest of the song escapes such a label either, utilizing the instruments found in other Tim related numbers, but it does garner a little more respect. Probably the most attractive aspect of this piece is what Naruke doesn't do, that being using a variation of "You're Not Alone" to depict this couple's love. Maintaining this distance is crucial for several reasons, among them to avoid encroaching on the pivotal role of Ashley and Marina's relationship within the storyline with one that is interesting but not as deep and complicated. Additionally, the last thing we need is another rendition of "You're Not Alone" to add to the already extensive catalog of reprises, something that will become an issue in just a short while. I'll give it to Naruke for knowing when enough is enough, but I still tend to view this track as mediocre. (6/10)
1-52) Operation ARMS' Theme Blah! Why couldn't "Operation ARMS' Theme" fall after "Odessa's Theme" in the tracklisting? Now I have to talk about the latter (spoiling what's ahead) before I can dissect the former. Anyhow, as much as I will scold "Odessa's Theme" for its lack of internal contrast, the close proximity and usage of these tracks proves there is a reason for this, being the contrast is meant to come from the opposing track rather than within. This plan works on the simplest level imaginable yet there are issues that challenge its effectiveness. As impossible as it is to mistake the icy chill associated with Odessa for the elements and emotions revisited here from "Valeria Chateau," even when taking the switch from the acoustic guitar to the bass guitar into account, the comparable tempo fleeces them of some of their individuality. "Operation ARMS' Theme" does have a few weapons that gives it a bit more pop than its counterpart, be it the rumbling earth sound effects at the beginning (personifying ARMS' progress as the world's progress) or the climax that's similar in style to that in "Spiral Tower" without seeming like a desperate cry for attention. All in all, it's a track with a sufficient amount of processing power. (7/10)
1-53) Odessa's Theme As pointless as such a comparison seems I often think of Nobuo Uematsu's "ShinRa Company" from Final Fantasy VII when confronted with Odessa's Theme. Beyond some of the obvious differences — an upbeat number versus a moody, drawn out one — that oppressive reign of tyranny runs rampant in both. However, when it comes to their one-dimensional quality working for them instead of against them, "Odessa's Theme" runs into a snag due to the presentation of the villains in the game. Many of the higher ups in the ShinRa were as soulless when they met their unapologetic ends as they were in the beginning of the game, if not more so. On the other hand, while the members of Odessa's Cocytus appeared to be as hopelessly sick and twisted as their acts of terrorism, they became more human with each defeat, the veil surrounding the noble ideals gone awry slowly withdrawing. It's this "sadness of insanity" that Naruke fails to explore and the track feels stunted because of it. Again, this has a lot to do with maintaining contrast with "Operation ARMS' Theme" but it's my opinion that Naruke missed the bigger prize; a subdued refrain like those found in "Battle Robot Jack" near the end that could have reflected the above and given this track so much more life. While there is no excuse for the actions of these characters, the continuous, unbridled sense of insanity is inappropriate on the whole. (6/10)
1-27) Inn The sleep/inn jingle is always an awkward part of a track-by-track review that usually goes as follows: passing judgment on a five to ten second "piece" of music, stating it's too short to give it a grade and then half expecting the author to break into some kind of deep inner monologue. Even though I can't deliver on that last one, hopefully I can keep it interesting by presenting some odd facts about inns in Wild Arms 2nd Ignition. Contrary to other RPG franchises the inn theme of Wild Arms has been carried over throughout the games, realigned for each appearance. This time around that dreamy, bed head feel is toned down even though we still have the guitar and whistle present. The bad news is the more you hear this during the game the more unlucky you may feel. Sleeping too much (being a sloth) in Wild Arms 2 decreases your character's awareness (which is controlled by the luck statistic) and leaves them more open to surprise attacks and diminishes their chances of learning/absorbing new abilities. As clever as it seems to implement such a system, it fails to take into account that once you acquire a certain character you'll rarely need the services of an inn again. (N/A)
1-28) Heading Far from the Sea Like the waves of an angry sea sinking the sturdiest ship or testing the hardiest sailor, the hands of time can dull the sharpest points and fade even the most vibrant of colors. Cruel as that may seem, there are occasions where time is the greatest of allies, allowing us to see things we couldn't see before. This is the bane of the lullaby-like percussion and ferryman whistle of "Heading Far from the Sea" as it attempts and fails to live off of its simplicity. How the moon steals its shine from the sun is reminiscent of how this track steals its perceived shine from similar tracks like "Live Reflector." The only problem is no one is going to mistake the sun for the moon and the same could be said about the vast difference in quality between these two tracks. For this listener, this piece's days of latching on to uncomplicated tracks that actually add something to the soundtrack are far over. (5/10)
1-29) The Stronghold Surfaces! For a theme reflecting on an incredible piece of aviation technology, "The Stronghold Surfaces!" sure goes nowhere fast. The strong and bold opening plays into the title very well — that exclamation point is not just there for show — even though it does feels a bit phoned in. Any and all praise is short-lived however, as the track loses focus as it putters around looking for a purpose much like the enormous albeit limited vehicle it represents. Actually, I take back what I said about the beginning — with its expansive, nature encompassing aura, the WHOLE thing feels phoned in. As laughable as the idea of a head-to-head comparison is, it's really hard to say which — this, or "Heading Far from the Sea" — deserves the dishonor of being labeled the worst transportation-based theme. To its credit, at least "The Stronghold Surfaces!" doesn't try to be something it isn't. It is as thin as paper and as enjoyable as sugar free gum from the get go. (5/10)
1-30) Harbinger of the Hurricane With two flaccid vehicle themes down for the count, it's not hard to imagine the skepticism surrounding the third and final entry. Neither the final nail in the coffin or a magical cure-all for this taxed section of the score, "Harbinger of the Hurricane" will likely disappoint those looking for an offering as grand and sweeping as "Bird in the Sky (Emma's Theme)" from the first game. However, such a comparison seems unfair for a variety of reasons, among them pitting a track with a solitary message against one with a dual message. One could argue this composition, fueled by the finale and paranormal motifs heard earlier and the lead avoiding the temptation to go whistle on the listener does give it multiple dimensions. The track really fights this premise though, which given it shared characteristics with "Field: Last IGNITION" is completely appropriate. Short of stellar and beyond mediocre, the dose of adrenaline "Harbinger of the Hurricane" adds to this formula is worth your time. (7/10)
1-31) Dungeon: Natural Type 1 The two tracks that make up the "Natural Type" dungeon series are a mini-history lesson about Naruke's ability to make a compositional scheme work one minute and then have it backfire a track or two later. With a ruse that should be more than recognizable by this point, "Dungeon: Natural Type 1" attempts to grab the listener by providing a sound that is both familiar and befitting of its environment. While "Natural Type 2" manages to make something of itself despite this, "Natural Type 1" does not. The happy-go-lucky mine/mine cart ride subtext is so generic and deep seeded it smothers the better (yet not necessarily good) aspects of the track like the harmonica. The nicest thing I can say is even though it truly adds nothing to the score (outside of reinforcing how every positive becomes a negative at some point and vice versa) it's not a real burden here or in the game, though it doesn't have much life beyond the latter. (6/10)
1-32) Dungeon: Ruins Type 2 While "Ruins Type 1" helps support the rough terrain at the beginning of the soundtrack, it isn't until "Ruins Type 2" that the series validates itself as some of the "must hear" music in Wild Arms 2nd Ignition. If the lust of adventure is one of your guilty pleasures look no further: guitars, horns and harmonics are ablaze here, all out to capture unwary ears. This is hardly an accurate description on what's really going on here, the instruments not being as forceful as they seem — especially those in the background. It is from here that the underlying sorrow takes form and when it melds with the slight hesitation of the other instruments and creates that perfect sense of covert loneliness. As much as I enjoy "Dungeon: Ruins Type 2," I have to admit that Atsushi Tomita's techno/rock remix from the Wild Arms -Music the Best- rocking heart arrange album gives Naruke's original a real run for its money, though both are definitely worth a stop on their respective albums. (9/10)
1-33) Dungeon: Ruins Type 3 Game show! Game show! Game show! Okay, so you're not on a game show per say, but you'll feel like you've hit the jackpot as you collect the multitude of treasures inside the four elemental dungeons this piece calls home. As big of a smile "Ruins Type 2" puts on my face, "Ruins Type 3" makes it even wider. The beat of the percussion personifies descending flight after flight of stairs as your characters search for a way to combat menace devouring Filgaia. Still, the percussion would be nothing without the horns and their ability to switch emotional frequencies at a moment's notice. One second the fact that the world's future is in your hands is related via a reaper-like call and the next the playful, jazzy sound gives you permission to find fun within the above. In the end, this is what this series of tracks is about: do yourself a favor and accept Naruke's infectious invitation. (10/10)
1-34) Dungeon: Pinch Type 1 A scathing blow after some of the soundtrack's highest highs, the "Pinch Type" series takes the stage with some of the score's lowest lows. Used primarily for desolate and deserted towns, the idea here is to create uneasiness though disharmony. Naruke does just that, but the result feels so bloated and unattractive it makes it hard to swallow. This is a shame because there are a few elements — like the hard-nosed piano work at the beginning — that do stand out due to their steady aim but lack the ability to really gel with one another. Regardless, it's these small glimmers of light that keep "Dungeon: Pinch Type 1" from being a complete let down, though most will find it as unforgiving as the wastelands of Slayheim itself. (5/10)
1-35) Dungeon: Pinch Type 2 Given that "Pinch Type 2" does little to mend the shortcomings of its predecessor, it should come as no surprise that its effort to burrow into the mind of the listener ends up short even with its few additional perks. The main melody is more concrete here, but that static sense of oppression that Naruke runs into the ground throughout the score challenges it with its unyielding drive. Ironically, the aspect that garners the most attention is once again the piano, the stone cold performance before the repeat paying homage to the first track in the series and easing the pain of all the droll musical climaxes that come before it. The most unfortunate thing about the sound and direction of these pieces is it doesn't end here, making for some mind numbing experiences ahead. (6/10)
1-36) Dungeon: Horror Regardless of how blunt it may sound "Dungeon: Horror" is an annoying track. It's not annoying in an "I can't believe they thought this sounded good" kind of way but a "thanks for reminding me of all the antagonizing dungeons in the game" way. That being said, those that have never heard this piece in context probably have an advantage over those that have (unlike every other track presented) though they don't miss out on that in-game experience entirely. What initially seems to be a piece full of wonder quickly sheds it skin, revealing what is a rather sarcastic performance by the lead instruments. They pull at you and tease your senses like the intersection of a maze as the pompous beats rack your brain with endless decisions. It's a lot like the entrance of a labyrinth itself: the thrills and excitement in "Dungeon: Horror" seem devilishly alluring, yet once you pass the same structures inside again and again you begin to feel how unwelcome you really are. (6/10)
1-37) Dungeon: Urgent Situations More of a danger/crisis theme than a full-fledged dungeon theme, "Urgent Situation" reiterates the idea that these types of tracks are neither a particular strength nor a glaring weakness of Naruke's. However, to understand how this piece becomes stronger because of this, one needs to acknowledge that there is strength to be found in perceived faults. For a danger theme, "Urgent Situation" doesn't really bring the power pound for pound, instead opting to work with a subdued palette through all three tiers of intensity. It's too relaxed to be truly engaging, but then we don't really need another "Chase." My favorite part is when the percussion shows up and breaks things down at the end right before the loop, essentially resetting the piece. Those looking for a little more meat to such tracks will likely pass even though it's wired pretty much the same. (7/10)
1-38) Dungeon: Battle Preparations Contrary to other dungeon themes, "Battle Preparations" is not used throughout the exploration of a location but rather when one encounters an enemy with whom they share a witty retort. What's odd about the track is it doesn't give into that thick, stereotypical drama you'd expect but the other way around; the reserved build up of tension sounds like something played during a raffle of some kind. What's even odder is how fitting the above description really is, the scene accompanying it in the game showing the main character making a huge gamble with the emotions of another. Musically, the way Naruke manipulates the emotion of the instruments — going from serious to almost comical — by implementing moments of slight hesitation is clever even though its far from seamless and a bit to wishy-washy to listen to out of context. (6/10)
1-39) Dungeon: Mystery For the musical backdrop for dungeons that are guardian related but not guardian specific (if that makes any sense at all), there is a lot more going on in "Dungeon: Mystery" than its tranquil mood would suggest. For example, whip out a pair of headphones and check out that killer low level that tucked away in the back. Awesome. Still, what makes this piece significant is the banjo and how unorthodox its inclusion in such a serene piece seems until you hear how compatible it is with the flute. Working in tandem, there is never an instance where one instrument tries to shove the other aside in an abrasive manner to grab the spotlight. Even the wily whistle that steps in and out adheres to this concept as it harkens back "Hidden Village," hinting that what we have here is more than just a dungeon theme. "Dungeon: Mystery" may lack the impulse of "Ruins Type 2" and "Ruins Type 3" but it doesn't need to, presenting its own nonchalant charms. (8/10)
1-40) Dungeon: Odessa's Hideout You knew it was coming, that the doom and gloom of the "Pinch Type" series would rise again. The only thing you didn't know was how soon that specter would reappear. Pretty much everything I would say here I've said elsewhere: the track undoubtedly drives home the idea of oppression — a good match for an aggressive, terrorist organization — but do we have to hear this expressed in the same fashion each time? If I was a member of Odessa and had to listen to this all day in the compound I was guarding I'd defect to ARMS quicker than you could say "Valeria Chateau" so I could hear something less depressing. There's a bit of a mechanical motif here too, a reference to Odessa's use of ancient technology to push people around. Whatever excuse you want to use to try and put a positive spin on what's here, it isn't very enjoyable or engrossing. (6/10)
1-13) The Young Witch Appears Being the first of a few pieces dedicated solely to Lilka, crest sorceress and little sis of the famous Eleniak witch-girl of Sielje, "The Young Witch Appears" is a hole-in-one when it comes to representing the bumbling nature of the game's main source of comic relief. The nutty, kooky percussion, the "woo!" vocal sample that peeks out every once in a while and the questioning subtext paints the perfect picture of youthful inexperience and childlike wonder. The only thing is it's not perfect. It's... too easy. Looking at the vast ocean of classic character themes that have graced games over the years this one misses mark; it neither makes me melt in my seat nor do I really think of the challenges the character will eventually overcome — something "Separation" totally nails. Because of this, it's hard to have patience towards the track, especially when one is waiting for a crisp battle or dungeon theme. Even if it works from a standard point of view, it is unsuccessful at accurately hinting at what drives Lilka forward. (6/10)
1-14) Separation While it may not seem like it (um, let's see... what's the highest grade received by a track so far — an 8?) the Wild Arms 2nd Ignition Soundtrack is home to some wonderful tracks. I know, I know, when are we going to hear them and see some 9's and 10's. Rest assured they are coming, but in the meantime there are some delightful tracks like "Separation" that share their own brand of magic along a way. Used to portray the physical and emotional distance between characters at various points in the game, the fact that this piece is not a character specific has always dumbfounded me. Why the odd statement? This track is just hook, line and sinker Lilka to me. The hollow passages of the flute and wavering effect of the remaining instruments just (silently) scream her name, giving the void within shape. So no, it's not really a character theme, but damn, it sure is in my book. The simple structure of the composition and spot on flute samples bringing it home. (8/10)
1-15) Monsters Appear Crap. After the last track it would have been nice if the soundtrack could have surrendered a few more of its higher end tunes but it continues to horde. Oh well, what can you do short of putting them in a better order in a playlist? There isn't much to say about "Monsters Appear," the horn's declaration of dread is pretty standard, but it's the curious, almost devilish little notes that follow that make the track feel almost... cute? This makes one wonder if this was a conscious effort by Naruke to link this back to "The Young Witch Appears" due to the fact both appear in Lilka's introductory adventure. What ever the case may be, the elements that make up this piece are interesting yet not really worth investigating outside of its zone of safety. (6/10)
1-16) Victory! On the heels of the not so hot "Monsters Appear" is the fanfare crafted to balance its mood by association. Regardless of its intended purpose, "Victory" is yet another instance where the title leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination as the expression of triumph is even more generic than the previous track's take on despair. Sure, that Wild Arms vibe is there but it only reinforces how painful it feels when playing that card fails to turn an average item into something special. It's worth noting that even though this piece is not employed as a battle fanfare, it could very well lend itself to such an application given the right situation, and it does give some foresight into Naruke's work in that area. (6/10)
1-17) A Journey To talk about "A Journey" without reflecting back on "The Young Witch Appears" and "Victory!" is rather impossible because while this track doesn't flat-out railroad the others into submission, it is successful in achieving similar goals. Neither bound by the "dissect the core of the character" directive of a character theme nor the product of over watering a basic idea with Wild Arms Miracle Grow, "A Journey" has the ability to sidestep these problems. The reason why isn't very apparent on a one-on-one basis with the soundtrack itself but it's usage in the game that allows it to do this. One of the better one-shot tracks, this is the highlight of the Lilka specific numbers ("Separation" not counting *frown*) that cements the fact that the interplay between the last few tracks should be commended even if a lot gets lost in translation along the way. (7/10)
1-18) Quiet Night There is so much to rag on here it isn't even funny, though none of it has to do with Naruke but rather Yasunori Mitsuda. If you're wondering what he could possibly have to do with a Wild Arms track here's a hint: music box. As hard as I try to banish thoughts of similar tracks in Chrono Trigger and Xenogears they always find their way back when listening to "Quiet Night." Simply put, Mitsuda's ability to wrap a melody around the frontal lobe of a listener with this *instrument* is so razor sharp it's downright sadistic. Naruke's excursion into this realm is a bit more layered but has too few weapons to battle the mental contamination (the good kind mind you!) from Mr. Music Box above. Still, there is nothing to be gained from blasting this piece into orbit. (7/10)
1-19) Formal Ceremony A stifling and wretchedly stereotypical piece, "Formal Ceremony" is a track that is devoid of life or soul outside it's one and only appearance during the ARMS (Agile Remote Mission Squad [NA]/Awkward Rush & Mission Savers [Japan]) commencement ceremony. Yeah, for something like this to play during such an event is hard to imagine. The upbeat percussion and proud horns go on in all their glory but you've heard it all before. Okay, so it's not as bad all this sarcasm is making it out to be. It's listenable, yet Naruke did herself and the soundtrack a great disservice by not tinkering around with this idealistic sound any further. Furthermore, had this piece had been crafted in a manner that made it more accessible, it may have been able to accommodate more scenes. This is the track's complete undoing because "Castle," a later track similar in style and substance, could replace "Formal Ceremony" despite lacking a significant amount of superiority. It's never a good thing when you can prove a track to be unnecessary. (6/10)
1-20) 1st IGNITION While a curious metaphor, "1st IGNITION" is a lot like that person you knew in high school that had to play in every sport and be a member of every club. You scratch your head wondering how they accomplish so much but though observation you begin to realize they don't have it so great; their assets being stretched so thin they never have time to have unscheduled fun let alone breathe. This is the story of "1st IGNITION," a musical storybook of Filgaia's salvation crammed into a single, two minute segment. Normally this wouldn't be an issue, yet the precedent Naruke set with "Funeral March" in the first game fights this premise. Here we have a wide variety of emotions being expressed during the post-introduction credit roll as opposed to one. Naruke does a good job at stringing the emotional fragments together and incorporating some of the later themes, but it's not until the very end that we know what we should take away from the experience. The piece feels lopsided as a result even though the emphasis at the end is right on. (6/10)
1-21) Field: Roaming At first, this seemingly standard take on the main theme "You'll Never Be Alone" may appear to be nothing to get excited about, yet this track marks a real turning point for the soundtrack. Could this be the result of the aura of freedom presented by map themes in general ("roaming" being a killer adjective here) or the sense of promise the whistling instills in the listener? Whatever it is, "Field: Roaming" does feel a bit limited when compared to future field themes, mostly due to the warm, almost earthen embrace of the instruments that reminds one of the travel restrictions placed on the player in the early stages of an RPG. Perhaps the best thing about this track (besides being the basis for some of the more endearing love pieces) is how it manages to capture the importance of the character's journey without being a monstrous epic or completely giving into the playfulness sprinkled throughout. (8/10)
1-22) Field: Distorted Sky For some reason, I can't help but think of Doppler radar whenever "Field: Distorted Sky" comes across my speakers; its waves emitting from a central point, fanning out in search of dark and dreary clouds like the alternating bass and double bass percussion waiting for something from beyond to respond. The eerie whistle taunts and teases the listener with thoughts of the heavens being devoured by chaos. By the time the acoustic guitar jumps in at the end with its frightful cold notes of worry, you know something big is happening in Filgaia. Really, while I haven't said a whole lot about this track I can't say enough — Naruke blends her western sound with the paranormal so well it's scary. What's even scarier is she sacrifices nothing to do it: no bizarre or out of place samples, no compromises. This is the kind of stuff that brings me back to the Wild Arms 2nd Ignition Original Soundtrack time and time again. (9/10)
1-23) Field: Last IGNITION Forgoing a lot of the conventions expected of it by relation, "Field: Last IGNITION" drops the whistle motif present in the previous field themes and offers a straightforward experience unlike "1st IGNITION" on which it is based. The absence of the former is merely a façade however, as the lead synth takes center stage as the track progresses much like a whistle would have. There are a myriad of emotions captured as well: the simultaneous gearing up and winding down of an adventure nearing its finale gives into the uncanny sadness of an uncertain future. None of this is groundbreaking and it is still no match for "Field: Roaming" or "Field: Distorted Sky," but it taps the right resources well enough. (7/10)
1-24) Town Where the West Wind Blows Town themes have always been an interesting subdivision of Wild Arms music with Naruke at the helm. I don't mean interesting in a "nice try, but..." sort of way but interesting in that they are never tackled in the same exact way in each game. The original Wild Arms had pieces that felt like social commentary on how the nature surrounding each town influenced it in some way, while a similar approach in Wild Arms Advanced 3rd took on a more gritty and personal touch. In contrast, Wild Arms 2nd Ignition makes a real departure by concentrating on the excitement to be had in towns, whether it be haggling with weapon store owners or cleaning out people's houses due to your rampant kleptomania. "Town Where the West Wind Blows" does just this, the flute lying down that typical town vibe as the xylophone-like notes create a childlike sense of freedom one would expect to hear as they crank the handle of a jack-in-the-box. Those looking for a deeper expression of emotion will find this and most of the other town themes hollow, but there are times where things are fun because they are hollow. This is one of those times. (8/10)
1-25) Western Village Most of what applies to "Town Where the West Wind Blows" above also applies to "Western Village." As it is, the experience here is so iconic of the Old West it is shameful; images of cowboys crewing on long pieces of wheat, lazily leaning against the front post of a saloon as they target a spittoon are all too clear. It is as shameful as it is its brilliant, brilliant because it simply embraces what it is without remorse, turning negative connotations associated with the cliché on its ear. Let go of your ego and see just how easy it is to get lost in this piece, how easy it is to forget the complete lack of originality as the two acoustic guitars intermingle. (7/10)
1-26) Hidden Village Fans of Naruke's town themes in the first Wild Arms will most likely find that "Hidden Village" has the deepest and greatest meaning out of all her efforts here. They're absolutely right, though there are a few obstacles that may hinder one from fully connecting with it out of context. The first is while some of the instruments (e.g. the hollow percussion) convey that general village atmosphere the main melody feels a lot more personal than normal for a town theme. This is no mistake as the innocence that flows forth from this track is geared more towards the depiction of a young, beautiful soul than a town. The second thing that halts the complete comprehension of the track is the hidden subtext the game places on it at one point. As peculiar as it sounds, "Hidden Village" is meant to lead you into a false sense of security in one particular case and the bold sense of Baskar pride does just that. All of this and the contrast it shares with it's disc two replacement "Scene of Reminiscence" serves to show this track has a lot more going for it than a mere listen would suggest. (8/10)
When it comes to the world of video games and video game music it goes without saying that with any kind of discovery comes disappointment. Not every apple is fresh or will be to your liking, but when you find the right one it makes all that searching worth while. Yet this is only one take on the disappointment that comes along with discovery, as one can be disappointed at the lack of success and acclaim something receives. This is a road that Wild Arms 2nd Ignition has come to know all too well, having had to complete with a much less forgiving market than its predecessor, its flaws and shortcomings documented for all to see. In regards to the soundtrack, there are many things that turn what is a light sprinkle into an unrelenting downpour, like SPE Visual Works' typical, half hearted presentation of the music (e.g. minimal looping) and the composer's ambitions and creations being at odds with one another, but is there sunshine beyond the horizon? Read on to find out.
1-01) Main Title For a game that's one of my favorites, I honestly wish there was something more to say about the title theme — an important piece of music for any game. While the methodical nature of the acoustic guitar and the patented Wild Arms whistle undoubtedly convey the fact that Filgaia has never fully recovered from the crimson flames that scarred its surface long ago, it fails to embody the engaging adventure that is to follow. This isn't to say a title theme has to be an orthodox, by-the-numbers affair that always highlights the lighter aspects of a game, but it should feel a lot more viable and memorable than this, not like a missed opportunity. (6/10)
1-02) You'll Never Be Alone "You'll Never Be Alone" emits a sense of magic that is similar to "The End of the Wilderness" but doesn't build upon itself in the same way. Granted, the feeling that the game's characters are longing for something that is just beyond the horizon is there but as the instruments and composition go through the motions, it feels more fluid and homogeneous from an emotional standpoint. If you've played the North American version of the game and heard the alternate instrumental version (which opens with a horn rather than strings) there is a lot more to consider. As strong as Kaori Asou's vocals and Naruke lyrics are they don't support or further enhance what the music has to offer; they almost feel like a needless obstacle. Despite the fact I would rate this alternate, instrumental version higher if it was present on the soundtrack, both versions succeed in portraying their intended message to the listener quite well. (8/10)
1-03) Going Out To anyone familiar with video game music, its common knowledge that most scores (RPGs especially) have their own little collections of pieces that only see action once or twice within the span of a playthrough. With one hundred plus tracks spread out over two discs its safe to say that many of these tracks call Wild Arms 2nd Ignition home. "Going Out" is such a piece and while it's neither terrible nor musically unsound it ends up on the negative side of the spectrum regardless of its befitting, in-game context. First played during Ashley's introductory adventure as the musketeer brigade of Meria Boule makes their way to the Withered Ruins (and then, as expected, the only reprise taking place 25-30 hours later) the subdued, almost leisurely militaristic feel is undermined by the slightest sense of silliness that foreshadows how quickly things unravel once they reach their destination. All in all, "Going Out" is a classic example of a decent track that is incapable of making a class change. (6/10)
1-04) Dungeon: Ruins Type 1 If one were to say dungeon themes weren't an important element in the tapestry of an RPG it would be a lot like a person stating they're above breathing oxygen; it's a notion so ludicrous it's bound to induce laughter to all within an earshot of the speaker. All joking aside, to underestimate Naruke's work in this area would be borderline criminal even though there are some that fail to impress. The most notable entries — like those in the three part "Ruins Type" series — are among the list of reasons why this soundtrack should be considered by everyone. That's a lot of hype, but does "Ruins Type 1" live up to it? Yes and no. It isn't hard to forge a valid argument that this is the weakest of the three arrangements by far; still, the playful sense of discovery created from the interplay of the instruments is extremely welcome in the game's dungeons and is a nice change of pace from the first game where these pieces mostly adhered to a moody and cryptic palette. In the end, just try and take in this fun track as Naruke intended: resist the urge to over analyze it and accept it at face value. (7/10)
1-05) Serious Struggling "Serious Struggling" is an interesting track for all the wrong reasons. None of these reasons have much to do with the quality of the composition (which more or less shares its fate with "Going Out") but whether or not the title coincides with it and its in-game context. Case in point: if I was going to describe this track to someone the first thing I'd ask them to do would be to forget any and all preconceived notions about seriousness and strife being presented in a musical fashion. With that out of the way, I would then present them with the previous iteration of the title "Confusion in the Front" and, unlike above, allow them to read into it — particularly the word confusion. Hopefully associated ideas such as aimlessness, awkwardness, silliness and goofiness would be the result and give them a better grasp on what this track offers. As far as a title goes, is "Serious Struggling" so far off that there is no justification for its use? It's a real stretch, but one could contend that this seemingly wayward title is an extension of the humorous, slapstick nature of the piece and is meant to be ironic since it is anything but. In the end none of this, even its clever, covert musical connection with "Going Out" can serve to bolster this track's meek identity. (6/10)
1-06) Chase It's ironic that after chronicling why the title for the previous number doesn't fit (and how it barely might) along comes a track where I can seriously imagine someone struggling. Here we have the main danger theme of Wild Arms 2nd Ignition — it's repetitive, somewhat annoying (the end of the game's first disc proving that quite nicely) and does little to change one's view on such tracks. As damming as this is, "Chase" really does deserve more credit than it may initially receive due to the architecture employed: a multi-layered composition that gains a small amount of intensity in each section. This approach may seem standard — hell, Junya Nakano practically built his score for Dew Prism around this very concept — but it feels like a step up from the first game where Naruke repeated the same bars over and over in "Collapse." Regardless, it's nothing to get excited about; the track working when the situation calls for it and being digestible enough outside the game. (7/10)
1-07) The Crisis at Hand When there are a large amount of pieces on a soundtrack, the chances that there will be tracks that try to invoke comparable thoughts and emotions within the listener in a similar way increases. While it's entirely possible for someone with an open mind to enjoy or appreciate everything that comes to bat, there are cases where the stronger creations devour the others beyond conscious thought. This is the crisis that "The Crisis at Hand" faces: the dissonant feel that seems to radiate with the malice and cunning of scheming adversaries is right on, yet the same could really be said of "From Anxiety to Impatience" that comes along a little later. An inferiority complex like this may have to do with the fact the latter appears to be a bit more tangible than the former, but this is of little consolation for a track that is truly a victim of circumstance. (6/10)
1-08) A Dramatic Escape As a forbearer of bad news, it's unfortunate that "A Dramatic Escape" reveals the utter predictability some of Naruke's work falls prey to so early. The title really says it all here: you get a triumphant — dare I say dramatic — horn opening up the track before it settles back into its default posture of relief. Even though this piece falls hard out of context (where it actually seems more at home) it does stand as a great point of contrast for when Naruke does succeed in making the predictable attractive though the airs of familiarity. (6/10)
1-09) Scene of Reminiscence Alongside books and movies, RPG's usually incorporate flashbacks to flesh out their characters and the world around them. Not one to be left out of the crowd when it comes to storyline essentials and clichés, Wild Arms 2nd Ignition spends ample time detailing Brad's involvement with the Slayheim Liberation Army years before the opening of the game. "Scene of Reminiscence" caters to these scenes with a semi-ambient hum-like backdrop that acts like a canvas for the chilling notes of the accompanying acoustic guitar as they cry out with a resounding echo. Chances are that some will be completely at odds with the sparse instrumentation and minimal development, but the piece has another application up its sleeve. Replacing "Hidden Village" in the second half of the game when a terrible omen befalls Filgaia, "Scene of Reminiscence" doubles as a town theme. The contrast created from the fact that it's the only morose theme employed as such is invaluable and gives this sleeper track the slight edge it needs to be (eventually) noticed. (7/10)
1-10) Dungeon: Natural Type 2 Truth be told, "Dungeon: Natural Type 2" doesn't offer any kind of revolutionary twist on the quintessential forest dungeon theme that crops up in almost every RPG. In a forward yet indirect manner, Naruke molds the triumphant Wild Arms sound to a piece dripping with a deep, hollow earthen vibe. This is hardly a bad thing; in fact it's one of the most enjoyable dungeon themes outside the "Ruins Type" series. It's hard to explain why it's so easy to take in but I can't help think it has something to do with similar themes in Legend of Legaia. Confused? When it comes to pieces crafted especially for a natural/forest environment they usually play out deep and earthen or light and mystical. In Legaia, where nature was an integral part of the storyline, these tracks were cheapened by their hollow feel due to the countless number of composers that had treaded the same path beforehand. Of course, the same could be said of the other path that's explored here, but all things considered Naruke made the right choice on this one. (8/10)
1-11) A Momentary Respite Unlike many of Naruke's earlier event pieces, "A Momentary Respite" isn't left in neutral when it is taken out of context: a goal any composer should strive for. Unfortunately, such a feat is only compounded when these pieces receive minimal in-game play. This piece is no exception, really walking the line when it comes to how the listener is pulled in — the played-out side of familiarity almost eclipsing that which is tasteful. The acoustic flavor found here is rather similar to "Scene of Reminiscence" although the more continuous instrumentation and the emotional aspect is about as opposite as you can get. However, like the aforementioned track, "A Momentary Respite" draws some additional strength from an unlikely source: the next track "From Anxiety to Impatience." The synergy created by the contrast of these tracks is really shown in Brad's introductory quest when they are played in quick succession of one another. This quick turning of the tide (which the order of the tracks thankfully preserves) is enough to keep its head above the water of its almost negative familiarity. (7/10)
1-12) From Anxiety to Impatience The story of "From Anxiety to Impatience" is that of a title which has been seen on almost every Wild Arms release since the first OGS in 1996. Connected by mood rather than composition (it's a completely different entity each time around) the story represents one of the more clever musical conventions in the series' universe. Then again, some may find the worry these numbers are predetermined to represent not so clever although the 2nd Ignition incarnation feels like one of the better ones — if not the best. Gone is the painful, mournful cry that opened the original, leaving the deep guitar work and march-like background to paint a picture of an ill-fated confrontation — a scenario that "The Trouble Brewing Along" tackles in a more indirect manner. While the original is enjoyable in its own right, neither Naruke nor any of her successors have written anything more appealing under this title that what you'll find here. Couple this with the symbiotic relationship it shares with "A Momentary Respite" and the above becomes obvious. (7/10)
“A super-stiff stage presence hurts an otherwise spectacular performance”
When it comes to comedy, it goes without saying that I love comedians that appear to embrace what they talk about. While it's more than obvious why a comedian that fails to do so is doomed, there is nothing greater when the entire picture (looks and sincerity) come together. While comedians like George Carlin and Christopher Titus have a knack at deciphering what is wrong with society, Jim Gaffigan is a master at tackling the lighter aspects of human behavior, especially when it comes to people and their food stuffs. Point blank, I can't think of any other comedian that can comment on the foods we love (perhaps a bit too much) like Jim can. This doesn't make him as one dimensional as he's able to weave other subjects into his shows but it has more-or-less become his unofficial calling card and as a person who loves their food a bit too much I can't help but reflect on how true it really is.
Still, as rosy as such a description is Gaffigan's brand of comedy runs into a little bit of trouble in DVD form. Given my first experience with Gaffigan's work was the audio recording of this show I was extremely disappointed to find the energy and spirit in Gaffigan's voice does not carry over into his stage presence. I was expecting him to be a bit more active in playing some of these bits out with a camera in front of him but as it stands his movement is light-years behind others like a seventy year-old George Carlin who, for obvious and well-justified reasons, can't jump around the stage like he use to.
With such an argument placed in front of them, some people may be quick to defend Gaffigan and say his sheepish demeanor on stage is an extension of the lazy, offish person he claims to be. I thought of that as well but he just looks to fidgety and uncomfortable for it to be an act. If it is an act it isn't convincing and gives off an opposite, unintentional message. Do I want him to bop around the stage like Robin Williams? No. As much as I enjoy Williams' comedy one Robin Williams in the world is more than enough. Still, I don't say this to be cruel but to point out that the video portion of this show adds nothing to the experience; the proof lies in the fact the audio portion of this show graces my CD player a lot more than the DVD graces my DVD player.
CONCLUSION:
Unlike the vast body of comedians out there, Gaffigan's shortcomings are easy to decipher and pass judgment on. While some may question why that may be good thing, it ultimately makes some decisions that would otherwise be difficult easier. While I'd expect some to point out how such an argument is self-defeating, it starts to make sense the more you think about it. From here it's only a short jump, skip and hop to for one to discover why Gaffigan's material is as versatile as it is.
In his famous bit "Why We Don't Need the Ten Commandments," George Carlin asked why God settled on giving man *ten* commandments. Why not six, eight or twelve? The answer was that ten was a psychologically pleasing number, it was the basis of the metric system, it - perhaps most importantly - sounded official. So what does the number ten have to do with Edguy's "breakout" album Mandrake? Well, Mandrake turns ten this year and as such it seems more than appropriate to reflect back on how "well" it’s aged over the past decade.
As if the inflection above didn't give away what's to follow, Mandrake hasn't aged well. At all. In fact, I can't think of a worse breakout album than this. Why do I say such things? I think most fans can agree that Edguy was already making stellar music way before this album dropped (the ever-so impressive Vain Glory Opera comes to mind) and Mandrake's success only serves to remind one that Edguy should have received the kind of recognition they receive now at least three years before this point. I can't help but think how much more impressive the story of Edguy's rise would be if Vain Glory Opera had been their breakout album. But no, for many the story begins with a by-the-numbers album that is highly overstated in what it has to offer.
So what is wrong with Mandrake? The first problem flies somewhat under the radar (at least for a few years) and it takes about half the album with it: there is way too much filler here. "Golden Dawn," "Jerusalem," "All the Clowns," "Save Us Now" and "Fallen Angels" are pure, unadulterated filler. "All the Clowns" and "Save Us Now" have become victims of the humor reaper that eventually claims funny Edguy tracks for the soulless entities they are but I'd expect some to raise an objection or two with "Fallen Angels." Still, I knew this was a filler track the minute the band tried to make it sound more impressive than it really was on their first live album Burning Down the Opera. The same situation really applies to the ten minute "Pharaoh" as well. Edguy simply has better tracks in their catalog.
But speaking of superior tracks, one of the greatest tricks Mandrake tires to pull is making average tracks seem a lot more viable than they really are. The greatest example of this has to be "Nailed to the Wheel." At first there doesn't seem to be any negative to this edgy, in-your-face track but it eventually reveals itself as the one-dimensional cardboard cutout it really is. Speaking of things that die hard, one of the biggest blows to the album is when "Painting on the Wall" hits its eventual expiration date. With this being one of the album's centerpieces along with "Tears of a Mandrake," it should surprise no one how damaging such an eventuality is.
So, given that I've been picking off tracks as quickly as George Carlin picks off commandments in the aforementioned piece, you may be wondering when - or if - I'm going to praise anything that can be heard here. Well, I am, but the pickings are rather slim. As if there was any doubt, the title track is worth one's time as is the ballad "Wash Away the Poison" which is just different enough from previous Edguy ballads to eek out a name for itself. In another odd twist, the bonus track that's on every copy of this album in existence ("Devil and the Savant") isn't as disposable as one would initially think.
CONCLUSION:
While I'm sure there are those that think I've had fun dismantling what Mandrake has to offer, rest assured I have not. Nothing more would make me happier than to remember this album in a brighter light given this was my first Edguy experience. But if I have learned anything over the last ten years, it's not to lie to myself and avoid unpleasant truths, of which there are many. While the failings of a ten year old album are far from being truly important in the scheme of things, you got to start somewhere. Unfortunately for Edguy, way too many people started here.
“A treasure nestled within a so-so spin-off?”
