Just like most kids of my generation, I grew up playing video games, whether it be on the Playstation or Nintendo DS. Strangely, one of my favorite parts of playing was always the music. Whether it be the simple, catchy earworm of the Super Mario Bros. theme, or the epic, sweeping score of Halo, I’ve always been fascinated by all that video game music achieves, both technologically and compositionally. To me, that is why video game music, including groundbreaking composers like Nobuo Uemats, has played an integral role in computer music history—not just because of all the technological innovation to overcome the limitations of early video game hardware and software, but also the compositional creativity that arose as a result of these limitations.
Video game music, while perhaps most closely related to film scores, has inherent limitations in terms of the its medium, besides all technical restrictions. For one, the music needs to actively involve and interact with the player, and move dynamically without clear beginnings or ends. It needs to smoothly transition between themes when a player changes areas, or when the tone of the game shifts, with continuous looping often being employed to this effect.
This dynamic quality first came in the form of straight up sound effects, beginning with the game Pong in the early 1970s, which relied on a distinctive, onomatopoeic to punctuate gameplay. Up to this point, most video games were silent, and sound was often a forgotten element of game design. But soon, music became a subtle but powerful tool to manipulate a player’s mood and overall gaming experience. This could be seen in Space Invaders, which had music that gradually sped up as aliens got closer to increase tension and the players’ heartrates, or in Tetris, which took inspiration from a Russian folk song to create a looping theme that soon became inseparable from the game itself.
Despite this, video game music was still significantly limited by technical restrictions. Every single note of the music had to be transcribed directly into the computer code, requiring close coordination between programmers and composers. Limitations in memory made it so that composers had to find ways to loop the music without making it too repetitive, often putting the same theme into new keys and registers. Limitations in tonal range led to an avoidance of harmony, or the use of less common intervals such as minor seconds.
But the true transformation of video game music from mere sound effects to, well, music came in 1985, with the Nintendo Entertainment System (NES). It included a custom sound chip that was equipped with 5 channels, and Japanese composers immediately seized this opportunity to define the sound of video game music forever. Koji Kondo created a simple but instantly iconic melody for Super Mario, while Koichi Sugiyama experimented with more orchestral harmonies for Dragon Quest. And finally, in 1987, Nobuo Uematsu composed the music for Final Fantasy, instantly revolutionizing video game music for decades to come.
Kondo’s music was completely melodic, with no harmony. Sugiyama sacrificed melodic movement for richer, but more stagnant harmonies. Uematsu found a way to put melody and harmony together, channeling powerful emotion and creating themes that instantly stuck in your head. His style was eclectic, drawing on everything from John Williams’ cinematic flair, to the classical undertones of Bach, to the 70s rock stylings of Led Zeppelin and Pink Floyd, to a random smattering of jazz and even Celtic Music.
And this was all under the limitations of the early 5 channels: two pulse waves for melody, a triangle wave for simple bass and percussion, white noise for more metallic percussion, and digital sampler for other assorted effects. Uematsu’s creativity could be seen in the “Prelude” of Final Fantasy I, which was composed at the last minute to fill in an additional scene. He uses audio tricks to simulate the feeling of background chords, and also uses an ⅛ second delay in one of the channels to create the illusion of texture and various voices.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8wZoJQABWI8
By 1991, with the release of the Super Famicon with 8 sound channels, Uematsu took full advantage. With increased memory and more volume control, he began to demonstrate more versatility in Final Fantasy IV. He began to incorporate distinct motifs for characters and even abstract themes, using live orchestral instruments such as the harp (with a slight Celtic flair). From the elegant, delicate “Theme of Love,” to the thumping, chaotic “Battle with the Four Fiends,” Uematsu had begun to build an entire world out of his music alone.
In 1994, the CD-ROM disk was introduced to the PlayStation, with a whopping 24 sound channels. With this new CD audio, along with other improved technologies of 3D graphics and Full Motion Video (FMV) in the corresponding game, Uematsu released his magnum opus with Final Fantasy VII. This is one of the most famous entries in the series, with “One-Winged Angel” resembling a rock opera with its booming percussion, newfound textures in the strings and horns, and an epic chorus behind it all. It’s epic, dramatic, and outstanding as a technological feat and a work of art, outside of any video game.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t7wJ8pE2qKU
But even with all of this pomp and fancy technology, Uematsu never lost track of what made his music compelling in the first place. Because once all the drums and choirs are stripped away, at the core of his music, despite being completely electronic, lies a sense of human emotion, which is best displayed in “Aerith’s Theme,” a beautiful blend of classical opera, cinematic flair, and Celtic influences. It’s sparse and deceptively simple, evoking feelings of nostalgia and wistfulness, as well as an uneasy tension between light optimism and dark foreboding.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fIqKWLkm2-g
Despite having world-famous pieces, performed live all over the world for enormous crowds by groups like the LA Philharmonic, Nobuo Uematsu extraordinarily achieves, time and time again, the original purpose of video game music, stemming all the way back to Pong and Space Invaders: to make players, sitting alone in their room in the middle of the night, feel something.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a3LkKviuGKU
Sources:
Fritsch, Melanie. “History of Video Game Music.” Music and Game, 2012, pp. 11–40., doi:10.1007/978-3-531-18913-0_1.
McDonald, Glenn. “A History of Video Game Music.” GameSpot, 28 Mar. 2005, 4:44 PST, www.gamespot.com/articles/a-history-of-video-game-music/1100-6092391/.
O’Bannon, Ricky. “The Musical DNA of Video Game Music.” Baltimore Symphony Orchestra, 2017, www.bsomusic.org/stories/the-musical-dna-of-video-game-music/.
Seabrook, Andrea. “The Evolution of Video Game Music.” NPR All Things Considered, 13 Apr. 2008, www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=89565567. Accessed 11 Sept. 2020.
Williamson, Jason. “The Lasting Impact of Nobuo Uematsu and the Music of Final Fantasy.” The Line of Best Fit, 6 July 2020, www.thelineofbestfit.com/features/articles/nobuo-uematsu-music-final-fantasy.
I loved the examples you included – some were familiar and some were new to me. I’m noticing that arpeggios are also super common in video game music! I suppose they’re especially catchy. Nice post!
Thorough treatment of an interesting history! I appreciate that you added clips of all the landmark pieces as you went through everything—it was helpful to put what you were saying to ear. It particularly stuck out to me how closely video game music co-evolved with console technology, which you highlighted very well. Nice job!
Josh, nice work!
I like how you related the topic to yourself and your own personal experiences in the first paragraph! I also appreciate how you chose Nobuo Uematsu, a video game composer who’s slightly less well-known of a name than Koji Kondo but possibly just as influential! I like the wide variety of embedded video game pieces linked all throughout the essay!