“A treasure nestled within a so-so spin-off?”
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.
Overall Score: 7/10
In 2009, Nintendo’s Game Boy celebrated its 20th anniversary. Outside of making me feel a lot older than I have a right to, Nintendo’s little light gray brick more or less brought handheld gaming to the masses. Handheld gaming may have existed prior to that point but it was much more limited, often times a device being devoted to a single game. Breaking down such barriers is impressive on its own; what is perhaps even more impressive is how the Game Boy and its predecessors managed to hold their own despite usually having the least advanced hardware in the field at any given time. Systems like the Sega Game Gear, the Nokia N-Gage and Neo-Geo Pocket may have come and gone, but some version of the Game Boy was always around.
Still, when it comes to competitors, the PlayStation Portable is generally believed to be the most substantial rival Nintendo has ever faced. The PSP is a lot of different things to different people. From its cool looking discs to its somewhat sagging sales, it’s the kind of machine that screams Sony from the top of its lungs. All jesting aside, it’s also referred to by some with another, slightly negative moniker: port city. To those that grew up during the reign of the original PlayStation, can one look at the current line-up of games and not come down with a case of enhanced déjà vu? Good games may deserve an expanded audience, but they don’t exactly radiate the luster needed to make the PSP a crowning jewel in the current jungle of handheld hardware.
While it may be easy to play the blame game and point out companies that lean towards such a strategy, Capcom deserves a little more credit (or a little less distain) for digging back through the past a little bit deeper for some of their ports, which in the case of Mega Man: Powered Up and Mega Man: Maverick Hunter X contain enough new content to slyly exit port territory and plant a foot on remake island. But as everyone knows, re-imaging the past – or even going as far as rewriting it – is a risky proposition. This pertains to music as well, but before one can pass judgment on these upgraded tunes, one must revisit the tunes of yesteryear.
The Original Mega Man, its Music, the Sequels, and these soundtracks:
For one to gauge the degree of success Toshihiko Horiyama achieves in reshaping the music of Mega Man, one has to look back at the original game itself. Not only that, but one has to expand their view to at least the first sequel as well. Focusing in on the games to the level that follows may seem extreme, but what the environments tell one visually is vital in what Manami Matsumae portrays to the listener. As odd as this may sound in this day and age, Mega Man’s initial adventure on the Nintendo in 1987 was undoubtedly unique. I’m not talking about things like having six bosses instead of the standard eight or the lack of energy tanks, but the impersonal, industrial feel the stages. Other elements, like gun turret traps, the drab color palette and lack of support characters helped fuel the feeling that you were truly alone, that you were charged with terminating six humanoid robots with little to no explanation. All you knew was that they had to be destroyed. Manami took this into consideration when musically depicting the world, and an abstract sense of “isolated solace” found its way into these compositions. Unsurprisingly, there are a few tracks that flat-out break this ideal (like the free-for-all anomaly that is “Cutman Stage”) or bend it (the forward movement in “Gutsman Stage” and the hints of quirkiness found in “Bombman Stage” and “Iceman Stage”) but most adhered to the structure of what is a moody soundtrack that isn’t terribly engaging.
This begs the question: what is the original Mega Man known for? It’s collection of robot masters? It’s insane crash damage when fighting the Yellow Devil? It’s somewhat peculiar and forgettable level design? All of these are good answers, but perhaps the best answer is its place in the evolution of the series. There would be no Mega Man 2 and beyond without it; games with environments that are surprisingly void of the feel outlined above even though they aren’t any less inviting for would-be intruders. This doesn’t make the game any less important in the scheme of things, though it does make it less likely to be brought up in conversation than its predecessors.
So what does all this have to do with the music of Powered Up and, more importantly, this disc? Lots. With the original not topping most people’s favorite lists, was it really the best choice for a remake outside of the fact it was obviously coordinated with the release of Maverick Hunter X? The lower than expected sales figures may have surprised Keiji Inafune but they didn’t surprise me. What did surprise me was Maverick Hunter X ending up in the same boat despite the obvious advantage it had with its success in its original form. From here, it’s easy to see why Capcom decided to package them together in 2009 (in Japan) and included this disc to sweeten the pot. If both games had sold as projected, this release probably wouldn’t exist. That’s irony. Still, the craziest thing professed about Powered Up was Inafune stating that this is how he had envisioned Mega Man from very beginning. Such knowledge out in the open, how does the musical aspect of this “vision” turn out? Read on to find out.
Thoughts on Mega Man Powered Up:
As expected, with Powered Up’s cute, chibi-esque characters and bubbly world comes the removal of Matsumae’s original moodscapes. The sole survivor in this respect (that’s presented here) is “Wily Stage,” where a happy medium between the two styles is reached, where the darkness is only infused with a side order of peppiness rather than dominating it. This fails to be the case everywhere else you turn, though it leads to some spectacular results. “Boss Battle” gains the most from its upgrade, the beat and layering adding a considerable amount of girth to a piece that was a rather skimpy and sporadic. Speaking of things being a little less sporadic, “Fireman Stage” has also grown in a similar respect with thicker synths eliminating the illusionary gaps between the notes while enhancing its pulse. “Wily Boss Battle” also comes out ahead, acquiring the kind of haunting depth that was sorely missing from the original.
When it comes to the remainder of the tunes (save for Cutman’s) just add a cup or two of happiness to the themes you know and love. Obviously, such a formula does little in dissecting new additions like “Timeman Stage” and “Oilman Stage” which makes them extremely hard to judge. One can’t help but think how they would have been presented on the NES with the game’s initial tones in check. Such thoughts only lead to uncertainty, although one certainly gets the idea that it’s hard to amend the past, much like it is when taking in Oilman and Timeman’s designs in when thinking of the game’s robot master crew.
However, when it comes to conflict, nothing tops Horiyama’s introduction of a new central theme. It’s not the that the composition itself causes the problem, but the fact I thought Mega Man already had a central theme, the one it ended with and shared with Mega Man 2. Given the game’s emotional facelift, the theme is more than appropriate yet overreaching in its effort considering how previous games got by without such connections - Mega Man Zero tried this with its “Area ZERO” theme which never really grabbed me. This isn’t to say that thematic reprises can’t serve the series, but they are simply few and far between in these action games compared to RPGs, games which generally have more bases to cover.
In the end, given the revamped, colorful world Toshihiko was presented with, it’s my belief that he did what he could with this score while staying in bounds of what was expected. Furthermore, I don’t think anyone else could surpass his work with such restrictions in place, but the fact remains that Horiyama can create far more superior music when he’s allowed to craft his own compositions (i.e. Mega Man X4) instead of prettying up old ones, something that mirrors Powered Up as a product as a whole.
Thoughts on Mega Man: Maverick Hunter X:
Although it may not seem like it given their different textures and polar opposite worlds, it’s almost too good to be true that selections from Mega Man Powered Up share a disc with those from Mega Man: Maverick Hunter X. While I may have gone on about the lack of freedom Horiyama had above, the arrangers for Maverick Hunter X had even less freedom. Restrictions and expectations based solely on preconceptions may not exactly be fair, but the amount of success Mega Man X received on the SNES compared to the NES debut means things are going to be scrutinized on a different and altogether higher level. A lot of this has to do with the idea that the series musical direction was at full term by the first game and that each subsequent soundtrack didn’t really evolve as much as they took on the faces of the composers behind them.
Unfortunately, it’s one of the most unfavorable “faces” that takes the reigns here - Shinya Okada. While Okada may have others by his side - Kento Hasegawa and Seiko Kobuchi - it does nothing to ease my feelings that this group knows next to anything about Mega Man music, unlike Naoto Tanaka or Ryo Kawakami. Okada’s obvious penchant towards techno-flavored pieces has managed to worm its way into games like Mega Man X7 and X8, where it has more or less tried to (annoyingly) declare war on convention. In all honesty, it was only with Mega Man X Command Mission – a game that had very little to do with that series’ canon – were it didn’t run afoul and actually worked. Capcom basically gave him a blank check with that game, and he cashed it as hard and as quickly as he could because no one had any idea what a Mega Man RPG was meant to sound like. In many ways he succeeded (I actually enjoy and appreciate the Command Mission soundtrack for what it is) and got his wish of drenching a game with his sound. Sort of. It’s not too big of a stretch to state a title like Command Mission lacks the clout of an action oriented Mega Man title, thus the audience reached was significantly smaller. Enter Maverick Hunter X. But what happens when you take away the freedom to create a new, original score that Command Mission afforded? You get a hybrid that screams “I want credit too!” Intelligently, instead of completely fighting against the grain, Okada and crew play a game governments employ to increase their own power. Knowing that a complete one-eighty in terms of policy (in the case style) is suicide, they ever so slightly chip away at ideas and opinions in order to achieve their goals. To put it another way, it’s easier to rewrite history a little at a time than to do it in one fell swoop. This is the sole concept that the experience revolves around, and like the governments they parallel, they do a more than efficient job in doing it. However, efficiency and strength are two different beasts, and it’s pretty obvious the reason this version is efficient is because of the strength of the original, underlying material. Need some proof? Check out “Theme of VAVA.” It’s amazing how terrible this piece is despite how appropriate it is for the character it represents. Be that as it may, the only other piece that truly winds up in any kind of trouble is “Sigma Battle 2” where an effort to make the piece more epic winds up creating an ugly mass of instrumentation.
Beyond the music and the perceived motives behind it, there is another item of interest buried within the soundtrack. The title for the opening stage music “Opening Stage ~Theme of X~” brings up a question on how one perceives opening stage themes. Has anyone ever thought of these pieces as more than just area themes? Personally, I never started viewing them as character themes until X4 when the music in the Sky Lagoon changed depending on which character one played as, which (combined with their reappearance in the game’s ending FMVs) more or less implied them as such. Zero’s dedicated themes in X1~X3 also did their part in implanting such a view in the listener. However, looking back at this particular composition, it’s not hard to see how it can be seen as more than a backdrop for the chaos and destruction Sigma’s minions are causing throughout Abel City. Thinking about it now, it also personifies the confusion running rampant throughout X’s mind as he works his way towards the center of Vile’s disturbance.
When all is said and done, there is little doubt that the arrangers of Maverick Hunter X aimed to take a previously successful score and make it their own. What’s confounding about this is how such a feeling exists even though they don’t do anything truly radical, like forging a new main theme. If anything, it’s a thinly veiled plot that hardly encroaches on the original music at the heart of the matter, and while it’s neither harsh nor abrasive, it has nowhere near the longevity that any of its crafters had hoped for.
CONCLUSION:
In the end, the music for both games covered on disc try their best to make one re-envision the origins of what are two of the most important Mega Man series to date. Unfortunately, as blunt as it sounds, the truth is that neither score is likely to act as a gateway to either series musical continuities for newer, younger listeners. In terms of overall quality however, Toshihiko’s work on Powered Up pulls ahead for not taking itself too seriously or as seriously as Maverick Hunter X’s self-serving techno edge. As surprising as this may sound coming from a true-blue Mega Man fan, this disc will mostly likely only end up in the collections of those who consider themselves as completionists, something I once viewed myself as not to long ago but have grown beyond.
Overall Score: 7/10
Much like the games they appear in, Rockman scores tend to follow in the consistent steps of their predecessors. To the uninformed, the existence of an underlying formula may suggest that the music is one-dimensional, in need of new sources of inspiration. However, taking a deeper look such exploration already exists: from the abstract work of Yuki Iwai in Rockman X2 to the deserted ideas of the original Rockman Zero, these scores draw attention to the fact musical departure is possible while at the same time presenting experiences that are undeniably Rockman. Whether or not Rockman 8 qualifies as such is subject to question, the majority holding true to its linage.
There are many reasons why Rockman 8 feels different than its counterparts, one being the quick jump from the 16-bit realm to the 32-bit realm. This disallowed the development of fixed standard in the sound department, something that greatly benefited the first six soundtracks (the lack of a auditory standard would be complicated even further when the series eventually returned to the Super Famicom with 1998’s Rockman & Forte.) Still, the more likely cause for the indifference some show towards the score is its soft, often laid back temperament; there is an odd impression that there should be more to the pieces than what is there due to an almost synthetic void. It’s like a voice echoing off the walls in an empty room, you almost expect to hear a reply but all you hear is your own voice ricocheting back since there is nothing there to absorb it. To imagine such a quality clashing with the crispness of bit tunes isn’t hard, though it’s hardly the stake though the heart some believe it to be. In fact, some of Uchiyama’s best pieces live and breathe off the effect created by it.
The soundtrack wastes no time, presenting the listener with a powerful combination of energy and movement in “Title Screen.” Presenting these elements, which are more timid and reserved elsewhere, at this point is important to the soundtrack as a whole. Things settle back down into their normal posture with “Stage Select” maintaining the flow of energy with its mellow and unrelated techno style. However, around this point a relatively minor issue comes to light: the down time between the beginning of a fade and start of the following track is quite excessive. Content and humble, “Laboratory” unfortunately disrupts that sense of drive from above before the upbeat “Opening Stage Above Ground” can continue it. Being somewhat of a play (variation) on the title theme, the catchy but rather uninspired sense of discovery is befitting. Its counterpart “Opening Stage Underground” works in much the same way, and is the first piece to reveal the darker side of the score.
Touching off the main assortment of stage themes is the enchanting “Ice Stage” where the peculiar aspects of Rockman 8’s sound become its advantage. That odd, seemingly hollow void alluded to above is put to work as the simultaneous chill of merriment and sadness resound throughout the surrounding emptiness. This makes the appearance of the soundtrack’s only true recording flaw (the omission of a loop transition) all the more ironic. Though it hardly seems to matter due to the wonderful feeling this track leaves behind, given the source of the audio this time around (CD-ROM) one can only wonder what was trying to be accomplished and why. The deep, piano laden sections of the playful “Alternate Dimension Stage” create a similar atmosphere, interacting with and providing a clever reprieve from the track’s quirky overtone. Whether the remaining stage themes live beyond their in-game context for the right reasons is debatable: the almost boorish sense of laziness within “Base Stage” doesn’t seem to stick out until your mind unintentionally reflects back on it hours after listening to it but the stereotypical “Amusement Park Stage” is a real surprise, not being nearly as disposable as one would initially think. Dissection of the Aztec-like “Ruins Stage” and the calm, almost lullaby-ish “Underwater Stage” requires the consideration of the larger picture: while standard musical representations of their respective environments at face value, they’re notable but not memorable for being unlike anything else in the series. Uchiyama’s Wily themes attempt a similar yet altogether different ruse, disguising compositions whose roots lie within the bounds of the Rockman sound with curious choices in execution. Peeling away the layer of deception reveals a set of themes that are somewhat related with those from the previous game. At its core, interaction between the concave backdrop and lead synth in “Wily Stage 1” is reminiscent of the contrast between the instruments used in Rockman 7’s “Wily Stage 1” while initially appearing to be completely different. Still, attempting to find such a link for the dark and brooding “Wily Stage 3” is another story.
Boss themes account for the soundtrack’s greatest area of inconsistency. Things start off on the right foot, the methodical beat of the quasi-mechanical “Mid Boss Battle” reinforcing the menacing disposition of Wily’s creations as they grind to their death. Emphasizing the mystery and intrigue surrounding the robot masters is the fever pitch of “Big Boss Entry,” resisting the urge to give into that standard declaration of dread associated with their appearance. In line with the boss theme from Rockman 7 is “Big Boss Battle” where the semi-playful context is mined hollow by the underlying seriousness. Such emotions co-exist more peacefully with one another in “Midway Stage Duo Battle” where the heroic call of the day is answered with a befitting character theme. This is perhaps what makes the reprise of Forte’s theme in “Bass Battle” so disappointing; that tense sense of controlled tenacity from the original is replaced with an unimpressive, haunting warble. In what has become somewhat of a standard since the NES games, the final battle themes have once again undergone extensive retooling; the idea of thematic drama being toned down in favor of compositions that tease the listener. This is something that the oppressive, technological atmosphere of “Wily Second Form” and “Wily Third Form” can barely accomplish with their abstract structure, failing to provide an adequate level of poignancy.
Closing out the album is the music for the game’s various video sequences. It’s surprising how well the Sunday morning cartoon feel of “VS Forte,” the inherent lament within “Reminiscence” and the boldness of “Duo Entry” generate such emotion outside the comfort of their accompanying scenes. Exclusion of the opening theme, the piece that replaced the original J-pop opening in the NTSC and PAL versions, is regrettable and could have been another solid way to open the album. Unfortunate as it is, this isn’t the only thing that throws the completeness of the soundtrack into question. With the music only derived from the PlayStation edition of the game, the alternate composition for “Sky Stage” and remixed renditions of the Cut and Wood Man themes from the Sega Saturn version were left to the ages. It’s understandable why the PlayStation version was used as the standard for the soundtrack but does that really warrant ignoring the existence of additional material?
CONCLUSION:
Regardless of the grievances above, it’s obvious that the music of Rockman 8 lacks the clout of its predecessors; the time elapsed between the debut of the game and soundtrack only serves to support such a view. It’s not hard to find fault in Uchiyama’s work here, but those willing to overlook the score’s lack of sheen can and will find something to enjoy.
Overall Score: 7/10
After six adventures on the Nintendo Entertainment System fans witnessed as Capcom’s blue bomber put the infamous Dr. Albert Wily behind bars. Of course, how strong is any prison wall when you have a set of robot masters waiting to “bail” you out a few months later? As with any of Capcom’s infallible plot devices, most gamers knew Wily’s time out was too good to be true when the series’ sixth sequel showed up on the SNES in 1995.
Even before experiencing the opening tones of Rockman 7, it goes without saying that the NES catalog of Rockman tunes would be a hard act for anyone to follow, even with the advantage of that sweet sound processor buried deep within the SNES. However, from a historical standpoint this is a formality: from a series that has never seen a static composer made responsible for maintaining a precise musical direction it is amazing how so many ideas have come together and forged the melting pot that is Rockman music. Rockman 7 is certainly no exception, tipping its hat in the direction of its predecessors while forging forward with its own identity. Perhaps this is why the various problems obscuring this official soundtrack release (rogue sound effects, uneven looping and cutting material) are all the more discouraging. Those familiar with the X1-6 box know this is nothing new to Capcom scores siphoned from the cartage format, but without additional, problem-free scores to fall back on the listener is left with one single inconsistent listen that flat-out railroads any kind of positive first impression.
The title theme opens the disc in positive fashion but “Opening Demo 1” turns the tables quickly, introducing unwelcome sound effects and foreshadowing the troubles ahead. This track is intriguing for other reasons as well, composer Yuko Takehara employing the sound she used in Breath of Fire II. Even though the renegade sound effects take a hiatus at this point, related problems take a stab at handicapping tracks like “Opening Stage.” Seriously, the treatment this track receives is a lot like blurting out “what the hell happened?” the first time you see a loved one using crutches after an injury. Ironically, “injury” is the best way to describe the complete absence of the latter half of one of the game’s most entertaining and prominent compositions. This is only made worse by the fact how well the track works despite its disembowelment – if it wasn’t so nauseating it would almost be laughable. In what could be viewed as an apology for the treason above, “Stage Select” and similar tracks exceed the standard loop; it’s really nice to see these shorter themes gain some wingspan unlike their brethren on the 1-6 box but it (and the somewhat unwieldy tracklist) serve to show the lack of coordination between products.
Coming though for the better is the warm, creamy nougat center of stage themes. A theme-by-theme overview hardly seems necessary, each one containing its own brand of magic: “Springman” bounces around with its blissful, child-like sense of delight; a ripple of sadness hides in the isolated solace of “Slashman” and the unrelenting pulse of progress driving “Turboman” forward. The somewhat insisting mini-medley “Museum” paints a musical history lesson with its rendition of the Guts, Heat and Snakeman themes. Of particular interest is the Heatman portion where the musical context of the original is turned completely on its ear due to the overall change in tone. Wily’s themes don’t disappoint either, especially when taken as a collective whole. The contrast between the bass and synth in “Wily Stage 1” carves out a piece with a mysterious amount of intrigue whereas the cold and methodical “Wily Stage 2” deceives one into thinking its devoid of emotion when the exact opposite holds true. “Wily Stage 3” has a forward flow similar in spirit to the lighthearted castle numbers from Rockman 4 and 5 only with a subdued amount of enthusiasm.
Accounting for some or Rockman 7’s enduring allure are the boss themes. The standard robot master battle theme, “The Big 8 Bosses” is comparable to those in X5 & X6 where a thin coat of quirkiness is underscored by deep, serious instrumentation. It works as well as one would expect but nothing can compare with the infectious “Wily Stage Boss.” Even the return of those misfit sound effects can’t keep a track like this down; its use of repetition being so seductive its borderline criminal. Bringing back painful memories of the game is “Wily Last Form,” teasing and taunting the listener much like that infuriating game of peek-a-boo the doctor plays at the end of the game. Another musical hallmark for the series is the aggressive yet collected “Forte’s Theme” that has become as much of a staple as Proto Man’s whistle.
As with most Rockman soundtracks, the smaller themes are left to close out the disc. The duration of these pieces, much like “Stage Select” is impressive though it does little to remove the stigma of the unforgivable amount of sound effects in “Message (Happy)” and its counterpart “Message (Bad)” – allowing the former to be tarnished is especially shameful. Punching in with a rocking beat, “Weapon Obtained” compliments the flavor found in Rockman 6 and 8’s weapon themes while “Big Eddie” blares over the speakers in all its unimpressive glory, annoying in its quest for accolades it shall never receive. “Helmet” is there to put a smile on your face as always and “Ending & Staff Roll” needs no introduction – it’s as great as you remember.
CONCLUSION:
It is disheartening to see a score such as Rockman 7 receive such an unpolished soundtrack, especially considering the royal treatment the first six games got in 2002. Even with the small boost in audio quality/recording volume whether or not fans will be willing to look beyond the flawed presentation and indulge in the otherwise grade-A material the album has to offer is debatable. While it’s possible to mentally phase out the warts found throughout, how many will find a reason to justify such a compromise? Regardless of the stance you take, all that is certain is that Rockman 7’s music will be remembered for what it is, and unfortunately so will this soundtrack.
Overall Score: 5/10
“A treasure nestled within a so-so spin-off?”
