Vitalic - Flashmob (2013 Update)

PIAS America: 2009

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review.)

I take it back. After hearing the lead single for Vitalic's new album, Rave Age, the doubts crept in. It had all the hallmarks of pandering to dumb-fuck festival EDM goers, though with just enough catchy Vitalicness to barely give it a pass. Still, I sure as hell didn't want to hear what the full album might sound like if he was going in that direction. No, maybe it would have been better to do things proper-Leftfield-like and called it quits after two albums, go out with a legacy held intact and all that rot.

Does that mean Rave Age truly is utterly dire? Hell if I know, I haven't even heard samples from it yet. I'm afraid to. Afraid the Vitalic that blew my mind way back with the Poney EP is long gone. Afraid of the musical compromises required to appeal to the lowest common denominator to get noticed by the new breed of party revelers. Afraid that my cynicism has been all for naught, that I might actually like the damned thing and I’ll be forced to eat crow once more (shit’s nasty, especially with a side of foot in your mouth). Yes, I’d rather remain in blissful ignorance and enjoy the music I have of Mr. Vitallica (besides, I can wager a guess of how it’ll sound, given the general apathy towards Rave Age since its release).

To be fair, ol’ Pascal’s music’s never been the most subtle. It was a rediscovery of rave music’s blunt aggressiveness that helped him stand tall above all the electroclash sleaze-mongers. And even when maximalists like Justice and Boys Noize caught up to him, he still etched out a mark for himself with Flashmob, suggesting a developing maturity in his sound that could have kept him a class act while his peers dumbed down the formula for ever-more insta-gratification generic results.

It’s a funny story, the whole maximalist movement: Ed Banger Records, Digitalizm, Mylo, and the lot. It got plenty of press and fanfare, but couldn’t quite sustain itself in the upper echelons of commercial dance. It was just too aggressive for the mainstream, lacking those identifiable hooks that worm into ears and persist with insidious offspring wrapped around your cochlea; nay, just ballz-to-the-wallz noise and anthems. Well, gee, sound like something else that caught on in the last few years? Yet at a time when folks should namedrop these obvious influences, most of the acts that brought it to the fore are barely mentioned anymore, considered something of a trendy, hipster, blog-house thing of half-a-decade prior. Except for Boys Noize. He kept his name out there.

If you’re wondering whether Flashmob has held up, I say most definitely, but only because those making this sort of music - Vitalic included, apparently - have taken a step back from its potential. I never thought I’d say this about maximalist techno, but ol’ Pascal’s sophomore effort is bloody mature and clever compared to what passes for such music these days.

Nine Inch Nails - Fixed

TVT Records: 1992

With the release of Pretty Hate Machine, Trent Reznor made his Nine Inch Nails project an overnight success story. In adding more punk angst, it dragged the industrial scene out of quirky obscurity where only noise terrorists and silly jack-booted Belgians and Candadians existed, and back into the radar of rock enthusiasts. Sensing the momentum, the ensuing NIN tour utilized far more thrash, which further inspired Reznor in the studio while making the Broken EP, abandoned most of their debut’s obvious electronic influence altogether. Or maybe he was just really, really, really pissed off by TVT Records’ control over his work. Anyhow, Broken was a success as well, but the band never bothered with a tour for it, likely because Reznor was already in the process of making The Downward Spiral. And with that, I thank you, oh Lord Wiki.

In the meanwhile, a remix EP for Broken was released, titled Fixed. Remixes for industrial were hardly new, but as NIN leaned quite heavy into rock’s arena at this time, it probably came off confusing to all the thrash kids eager for more. Tough beans, chaps, you’re about to get a history listen here, as Coil’s in the mother-fuckin’ studio. Something of a super-group of the early-early industrial scene, having the duo lend their noisy blessing to Reznor’s project properly legitimized NIN with even the most stubborn doubters. Their mix of Gave Up chops the tune up and adds plenty of electronic noise, but the beats are almost pure rave (Belgian new beat!) with their clicky-clack percussion complementing.

Another industrial luminary shows up for a remix of the kick-ass Wish, J.G. Thirlwell, he of Foetus fame. He takes the thoroughly thrash elements of the tune, runs ‘em through a sample grinder, and adds more tribal rhythms. Hey, this shit is even better than the original! At nine-plus minutes, it’s like the Awesome Extended Mix, or something. (in case you couldn’t enough of that, there’s also Fist F*@$ at the other end of the EP, essentially the ‘dub’ version)

The other three Fixed tracks are Reznor and bandmate Chris Vrenna tinkering with the song themselves. Their re-rub of Happiness In Slavery is more of a regular EBM take on the tune, while Throw This Away and Screaming Slave sound like experimental test-runs of what The Downward Spiral would feature in finished form. Not essential, but it does provide the EP with a little variety.

Remix EPs have a tendency to be pointless fluff, save the odd killer cut (hint: that’s Wish in this case), but Reznor wanted Fixed to stand on its own just as solidly as the Broken EP, and as a body of Nine Inch Nails music, this CD is definitely one of the stronger singles to be found. This band was only getting better as the ‘90s took form. Thank fuck I’m finally discovering this, even if I’m two decade late to the party.

Ghostface Killah - Fishscale

Def Jam Recordings: 2006

For the Wu-Tang Clan, the first half-decade of our current millennium was spent spinning wheels. Often, whatever momentum they’d create for themselves was followed with mediocre duds or nothing at all. Aside from Ghostface Killah, that is. He opened the ‘00s with the underground classic Supreme Clientele (considered so because the album got hardly any press at the time), and though his subsequent material never reached that lofty peak again, he remained consistent as the decade wore on.

Fishscale came out at about the time most had written the Clan off and Ghost was thought as a strong solo artist in no need of his posse anymore. All the more surprising, and welcome even, that Raekwon shows up on a number of the cuts, not to mention a proper Wu joint with 9 Milli Bros. Though the two had guest-versed repeatedly on each other’s albums, it was Rae’s Only Built For Cuban Linx that’d been regarded as the definitive Rae-Ghost showcase. Perhaps in a bid to recapture the fire that inspired that one (not to mention no one knew whether there’d ever be another Cuban Linx at this point), at least a quarter of Fishscale deals with crime stories and cocaine usage. Unlike so much other gangster rap, it’s never glamorized, yet nor is it ever villainized either. Best example of this is the second cut Kilo, where over a simple funk-beat supported by sounds of snorting and metal-on-porcelain, Ghost and Rae tell us the in-and-out of dealing on the street as it is, and nothing more.

In going back to those roots, Ghost seems inspired to revisit other things that worked on prior albums. The longtime ‘70s soul sampling is in full effect of course, mostly used in tracks like The Champ and Be Easy where Mr. Coles goes bravado on us. Elsewhere, reflective moments of childhood get another nod with Whip You Down With A Strap, where ol’ Dennis ponders whether he deserved some of the beatings his momma gave him. He also finds time for extraneous topics like going to the barber shop (in the short tune Barbershop, which has a ridiculously hard kick for such a silly tune). And the ladies? Whether telling tales of cocaine addicts (Big Girl) or how he’ll give them the chance to change for the better in Momma, Ghost keeps things smooth. Guess he realized if you’re gonna make an album that’ll appease all parties, the women need their tunes too.

When Fishscale came out, it was hailed as an instant classic under the Wu banner, and few thought it could be topped. While I agree it ranks among Ghostface’s top albums, something funny happened to the Clan after this one: they got good again. Not brilliant, mind, but many of their releases are on par with Fishscale. Ironically, Ghost’s album lost its ‘classic’ status as a result, and now is simply considered a “Top 10 ‘00 Wu Release”. Still not a bad distinction.

The Irresistible Force - Fish Dances (Original TC Review)

Ninja Tune: 1999

(2013 Update:
I feel like an idiot for not realizing this at the time, but Mixmaster Morris had done a remix of Coldcut's classic Autumn Leaves way back, which became something of a classic in itself. Well no wonder Ninja Tune invited him over to join their roster after the Force left Rising High. There's also some ropey info in this old review regarding the state of chill rooms. While it's true most of them had died out at regular parties, they've persisted in the psy scene, where Morris still occasionally plays out in. Erm, yeah, I've no excuse for that oversight on my part.

I should also mention there are two versions of Fish Dances out there, the other having an additional two remixes from Fila Brazilia and DJ Food. Just my luck I'd end up with the short one.)


IN BRIEF: A final dance from the Force.

Changing trends can be cruel. Mixmaster Morris, once a fixture in the chill scene, seems all but forgotten now. How could an individual whose star was as bright as The Orb’s disappear from the public eye? As with all things in musicdom, the answer is a change of tastes.

Morris’ brand of mellow, trippy ambience was a lovely soundtrack to many a backroom when rave parties were mostly an underground vibe; it wouldn’t be uncommon to see hippies and candy kids lounging together as the lengthy Force track Flying High pleasantly noodled out of speakers. Once club culture invaded the chill rooms though, most of Morris’ fans were shooed away. And when Moby’s Play blasted all traces of druggy connotations out of chill rooms with its bankable MOR tones, the old ambient masters’ fates were sealed: downtempo music was no longer the refuge for ravers, but rather their mothers.

Actually, that’s not entirely accurate. We mustn’t forget the influence Ninja Tune’s brand of trip-hop was having on folks. While they wouldn’t see the kind of commercial success reserved for Moby and co., their critical praise continued undaunted while psychedelic styles were regarded as old-hat.

Perhaps this is why Morris ended up on the label. On Ninja Tune, he could continue to produce his kind of music without either selling himself out or being lost in the backwaters of tiny labels still making lovely mushroom music. It may not have worked out as intended though, as Morris’ music was too psychedelic for even the open-minded Ninja Tune faithful, whom prefer their reefer above all else. The album It’s Tomorrow Already was the last produced with the Irresistible Force alias, and Morris has scarcely been heard from since. Does this mean the material on that release was bad? Oh hell no. As is evidenced by this final single Fish Dances, the Irresistible one was in as fine of form as ever.

The two cuts produced by Morris himself - the remix of Power and an instrumental of the titular track - contain all his trademark tricks in abundance: dreamy melodies; trippy atmospherics; bubbly drumming; floaty vibes; and, as always, a strict adherence to loose music. This last attribute has often caused Morris to lose potential listeners; for those who enjoy structured music with definite hooks, his free-for-all approach can leave many confused despite the lovely textures heard. And, as is usually the case with such music, it can go on for tedious amounts of time with go-nowhere sections. Fortunately, these two cuts show enough restraint so you don’t tire of anything looping on you.

An eclectic assortment of producers are on hand to lend their talents in remixing tracks from the album as well. Nepalese Bliss, the other single from It’s Tomorrow Already, gets a dubby trip-hop work-over from Jimpster; his blend of jazzy vibes with Morris’ floaty melodies are a wonderful combination. Meanwhile, Frédéric Galliano treats Fish Dances to a brisk acid jazz workout on the percussion end before bringing in the original’s dreamy synths to end out on a smooth bit of chill. Positively delish’.

The remixes by Voda (on Playing Around With Sound) and Plaid makes for an interesting contrast to the rest of this single’s material. Paranoia drips from Voda’s go, with eerie, choking sound effects and skittery spoken dialogue that is rendered nearly unintelligible; all the while, grimy trip-hop rhythms clump along. But if Voda’s remix is paranoid, then Plaid’s remix is downright schizophrenic: it starts with similar eerie effects while anxious melodies flow in the background. Eventually though, it settles into an easy electro rhythm before ending off in a pleasant, light-hearted tone.

It’s a shame Morris never had a chance to continue working with Ninja Tune, as his style does bring an already strong label added depth in the blissy chill categories. However, ‘twas not to be, and the Irresistible one’s output has been scarce since (you can find fresh material online though, should you be interested). All in all, if you’ve never cared for Morris’ early material, then perhaps this single will offer you a chance to reconsider. You still have vintage Irresistible Force tracks here, but the variety and skill of the remixes adds to Fish Dances’ worthiness if you’re in the market for non-MOR chill.

Carol C - First Impressions

Topaz: 2000

Atmospheric jungle seemed like a flash-in-the-pan movement, a genre that had all the potential to sweep that scene by storm, but was overshadowed by its commercial-friendly sister-genre jazzstep. By the turn of the century, neither generated much attention from the press anymore, most interested in the emergent darkstep sound instead. Eventually jazzstep's soulful aesthetic was adopted by the liquid funk guys, while atmospheric went relatively dormant for a long while. There were a few one offs here and there, and Bukem's Good Looking Records never went away, but folks by and large considered the genre an artifact of mid-'90s partying.

A DJ mix such as this was considered dated even by the year 2000. Mind, it didn't help that Carol C opted to use many tracks from atmospheric jungle's high point, but it does beg the question why someone would bother to release such a CD at that point. In fact, why would Topaz, a label that was making its mark as a progressive trance outlet, take a dip in this genre at all? Were they so inspired by Paul Oakenfold's Global Underground: Oslo set that they had to get themselves in on some of that 'dolphin d'n'b'? Was Carol C such a big fan of that sound that, for a debut mix CD, it was atmospheric or nothing at all? Was it just the trendy thing for all start-up labels to offer at least one drum'n'bass release, even if their potential audience could care less for it?

Perhaps some of these questions can be answered in figuring out who Carol C is. First Impressions is her only DJ mix CD credited, and it appears she’s had a career of producing and singing funk and nu-soul in the group Si*Sé since then. That makes a fondness for the jazzy side of jungle a good match, but still doesn’t answer much about her skill on the decks, much less why Topaz would have tapped her of all DJs for a mix such as this. Buddies with Scott Stubbs, mayhaps?

Okay, enough questions. How’s the music then. Nothing revolutionary, but if you find yourself jonesing for just a little more jungle on an LTJ tip, you’ll be in fine hands with First Impressions. Most of the major names for atmospheric, jazzy d’n’b show up, including Omni Trio, Zed Bias, Shogun, Jonny L, plus lighter moments from Technical Itch and The Advocate. And that’s all the names on this CD. Yep, of the ten tracks used, four acts get two tracks each. No wonder the tone is consistently maintained in this mix, there’s barely any crate diggin’ to be had!

I can’t hate on First Impressions for that though, as the music’s pretty class as most mid-‘90s atmospheric jungle’s wont to be. If I’ll give this mix any credit, it’s that Carol C selected tunes outside the Good Looking Records library. On the other hand, maybe Topaz couldn’t clear the rights to those.

Miss Kitten & The Hacker - First Album (2013 Update)

Emperor Norton: 2001/2004

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review.)

First, I was disappointed. Seeing a run of material I’d already written reviews for in my queue, there’d be little opportunity to challenge my creativity. Then, I was relieved. A good chunk of them were albums I’d already uploaded here way back, thus providing me with the excuse of proper 2013 Updates rather than a piddly pair of paragraphs. After, I sprained my left wrist at work. Typing is now an arduous chore as I muddle with a bulky brace and tender tendons. Do I slink away in defeat then, take Mother Nature’s insistence that I slow down to heart? Pah, I couldn’t slow down even if I tried. Damned Powerthirst addiction.

Anyhow, Miss Kitten & The Hacker. I concluded that original overlong review claiming First Album hadn’t dated in the four years after it’d been released. What about a dozen years though? Surely something that sounded intentionally retro has survived even a decade's worth of music (de)evolution. Nope.

Funny thing about the electroclash era is the music that emerged from that scene is forever tied to those years, especially in lieu of the fact almost all of those acts moved on or disappeared altogether. It worked back then because the style and substance was different and new, especially to a generation of electronic enthusiasts who'd missed the early'80s space synth and italo pop from which the nu-new wave groups drew influence (*cough*). As with all things retro-minded though, once the novelty wore off and nothing fresh kept it afloat, it forever dated the music to the early ‘00s. When I wrote that stupid-long review in 2005, electroclash still had a charming afterglow going for it, even if no one was making that particular strand of stripped-down electro anymore (oh, but did the sleaze ever persist; I should also mention much of the background information I wrote, while not exactly incorrect, barely does that scene’s influences and lasting effects justice). Listening to it now, however, that charm’s worn off, and all First Album has going for it is appreciation for the context from which it was sprung.

Actually, that’s only true if you take the album at face value, sniggering at all the oh-so coy irony and the like - that’s sure what I was doing for the first few tracks this time out. As First Album played through, however, I noticed a surprising level of depth to the music and deadpan lyrics. It isn’t super-deep or anything, but it’s there. Miss Kitten and Mr. Hacker created a world that’s more than just a parody of our own fascination with celebrity lifestyles and seedy culture. Rather, it’s a cutting indictment of the two, peeling back the glamour (or lack of) and revealing how empty, and thus similar, it all is. The sparse production and unemotional tone of Ms. Hervine’s voice perfectly sells the soul-crushing existence of Life On MTV, Stock Exchange, and Nurse. Or maybe I’m reading too much into it. Damned English courses.

Nobuo Uematsu - Final Fantasy VII: Original Soundtrack (Disc 4)

DigiCube: 1997

If Disc Three was about enjoying the world of Final Fantasy VII’s quirky tangents and mysterious corners, Disc Four says, “You’ve had your fun, we got a plot to get through now.” True, the tail-end of the last one had that too, but here there’s more urgency to the music. Makes sense, as the music covered deals with all of ShinRa’s shenanigans and the proper confrontation with ol’ Sephy. Only a few ‘generic’ tracks appear here, and seeing as how Parochial Town or Hurry Faster! were featured at earlier stages of the game, they come off more like leftovers shoved way over here due to lack of CD space on the first three.

Whatever. If you enjoyed the game mostly for its ever-evolving convoluted plot, then this disc’s for you. Thrill, as you remember every time the Weapons raided major cities in Weapon Raid. Chill, as you did during the countdown to Cid’s rocket launch, in The Coundown Begins. Marvel, when the Mako cannon is fired a second time in The Makou Cannon Is Fired. Tremble, as Meteor finally descends upon Midgar in World Crisis! (by the way, is it just me, or was that a ridiculously slow moving meteor?) Er, yeah, there’s a lot of FMV sound-tracking happening here, and aside from the wonderful ‘Aeris In The Lifestream Saves The Day’ end of World Crisis, not much stands strong outside the visual reference; though the percussion in Weapon Raid’s mint.

Quite a few one-offs appear on CD 4, in that they’re pieces that were only used for single scenes within the game. A couple are acoustic, and though Sending A Dream Into The Universe is definitely a take on Cid’s Theme, damned if I can remember where On The Other Side Of The Mountain plays.

And obviously all the ‘final’ music makes up the final stretch of the final CD. Like the final dungeon track Judgment Day (love that percussion!), pre-final boss music Jenova Absolute (like that fight, it’s rather meh), final boss music The Birth Of God (what the hell’s up with that title?), and final-FINAL boss music A One-Winged Angel. Okay, I’ve never understood why he takes on that final form, other than because Kefka in Final Fantasy VI got to have a ‘fallen-angel’ form, Sephiroth got one too. I’ll grant Final Fantasy skews towards a Renaissance-gothic style, but still. Oh well, One-Winged Angel is still an impressive bit of music, and believe me when I say it blew everyone’s mind when that battle and score went down way back in ye’ olde 1997. Latin choir for the final win!

Funny thing about listening to Final Fantasy VII’s music again, is how much some aspects of the game are still ingrained in my brain. I can’t go through any of the battle music without hearing the sound effects associated with them, and all those high and low emotions (shad’ap) during certain cues come flooding back. Sure does make me want to dust the ol’ game off again.

Nobuo Uematsu - Final Fantasy VII: Original Soundtrack (Disc 3)

DigiCube: 1997

Let’s talk sound for a moment. Though it was a marked improvement over the previous generation of consoles, the 32-bit era still took a while to fully capitalize on its potential in sonics. Final Fantasy VII’s initially was intended for the Nintendo 64, and thus was likely the reason Uematsu composed the soundtrack using MIDI; or maybe he was just comfortable with it still. Whatever the case, the inboard Playstation soundcard, though a capable piece of technology, was limited in what it could reproduce, hence the poor emulation of brass instruments.

What the game’s music lacks in trumpet fanfare, however, it more than makes up percussion. Plenty of proper drums and tribal rhythms are scattered throughout the four discs, but a great showcase of them show up on CD 3. Cosmo Canyon and Great Warrior in particular are a joy to, erm, enjoy, borrowing elements of Native American music - makes sense, since the Red XIII character’s homeland seems inspired by the culture. Even better is the triumphant march of Cid’s Theme, the gentle beat of Lifestream, the pulsing throb of The Great Northern Cave, and the heartbeat of Those Chosen By The Planet (though I must add those high-note ‘choir’ tones are hilariously wack).

It’s when ol’ Nobuo steps out of traditional arrangements and uses purely synthesized sounds where the music on Disc Three turns fascinating. The opening refrain of You Can Hear The Cry Of The Planet always sends chills down my spine, and not just because it’s the music played in the location where Aeris meets her demise (what spoiler?). Elsewhere, upbeat silliness of Racing Chocobos - Place Your Bets could work as its own electro track, though I’m sure anyone who’s spent countless hours chocobo breeding in this game has grown utterly sick of it and the hoe-down Fiddle de Chocobo (I only bothered as far as a black one myself).

And acoustics! Goodness, but are the string instruments ever class. The theme of the other fangirl-favorite tortured soul Vincent has a suitably sad melody strummed, Buried In The Snow makes use of short violin strums and plucks, and Forested Temple works Uematsu’s other ace-in-the-hole of percussion - bells - with a guitar arpeggio. And okay, the fiddle work is pretty good too in Fiddle de Chocobo - I can admit that now since I haven’t played the game in a long time, and thus don’t have it currently ingrained in my brain.

From a personal standpoint, I enjoy the variety of music on Disc Three the most. Much of it is introduced when Final Fantasy VII’s world truly opens up with side quests and mini-games, a welcome element for those who prefer their RPGs as an immersive experience rather than a point-by-point plot progression. Plus it includes a couple of the most memorable themes between Sephiroth’s and Aeris’. Even the FMV bits like Steal The Tiny Bronco! and Interrupted By Fireworks are enjoyable, which is more than I can say for the next disc.

Nobou Uematsu - Final Fantasy VII: Original Soundtrack (Disc 2)

DigiCube: 1997

Final Fantasy VII was a pretty big fucking deal when it came out, and like most fans of jRPGs of the time, I too fell sway with the epic gameplay, cinematic scope, and cutting-edge polygon Lego-models. And the music! Hoo boy, did it ever suck me in. Though I’d rate Final Fantasy VI’s overall score of better quality, this game’s was so much more diverse than anything I’d heard from RPGs before. Why, I could even listen to it on its own, separate from the game. If only there was some way I could- Whoa, they actually have such soundtracks in Japan? Damn, I gotta get me a copy! Who cares how much it costs, this music’s too good to pass up.

This was the first VGM CD I ever bought (re: father purchased for me since he was the one with the credit card). It's also the last, though I've picked up Symphonic Suites or tie-ins on occasion. The reason, as always, boils down to funds, those darn pan-Pacific duties incredibly brutal. Plus, I never was that big of a gamer to splurge on their OSTs, especially now as I've grown older and find less time for them. No, if I'm laying down some serious cash for music that sounds inescapably flat and plays out as short double-loops, it'd better be something special.

Final Fantasy VII definitely has its share memorable pieces, but as with many games, it has its forgettable fluff too. Coincidentally, most of it shows up on Disc Two, which deals with most of the music featured through the Golden Saucer segment. There’s the game over music, the sleep-at-inn music, and even Waltz de Chocobo, the brief music played before you get your first Summon materia (I think; been a while since I played). Also, two main chocobo themes appear here, the surf rock Electric de Chocobo, and a jazzy-shuffle Cinco de Chocobo - oh boy, dos chocobobobos.

CD 2 is also all over the place in tone. As the game finally emerges from the choking industrialism of Midgar, Mr. Uematsu gets his opportunity to work in many different themes. You have pleasant acoustic pieces with Ahead On Our Way, Farm Boy, and Costa del Sol, somber pieces like Mining Town and Sandy Badlands, and corny marches like Rufus’ Welcoming Cermony and It’s Difficult To blah blah blah. Oh, and the overworld theme’s the first track too, given an incredibly generic title of FF VII Main Theme. Geez, couldn’t come up with something better than that?

For yours truly, much of Disco Two is skipable, but it also has some of my favorite pieces. J-E-N-O-V-A’s brisk, trancey hook is awesome, and Gold Saucer is a right hoot; criminal that both these cuts are so short, but the utterly dull Trail Of Blood lasts twice as long. Also, Cait Sith’s Theme’s here, and as he’s my favorite ‘guilty pleasure’ character of the game, I totally vibe on this cool shuckster-jive. No shame.

Nobuo Uematsu - Final Fantasy VII: Original Soundtrack (Disc 1)

DigiCube: 1997

Final Fantasy VII is the seventh instalment of the Final Fantasy franchise, a very important series in the world of gaming. It has the distinction of turning RPG gaming into something cool and enjoyed by all. Who cares if it bore scant resemblance to Western RPGs like Ultima or Might & Magic? Those were for losers, man. Greasy barbarian nonsense, right? Let's get steam-punk on the genre! Still, the game's impact is unimportant here, as I'm not a gaming blog. Want more details, seek out the endless articles, websites, fan pages, hate pages, and slash pages (er, maybe not) out there. I'm focusing on the music from the game, and that's about it.

Yep, if you thought I wandered off the conventional 'EDM review' path before with rock and the like, you ain't seen anything yet. To be fair, video game music is its own form of electronic-based music, what with chiptunes a thriving aspect of its lineage. As storage capabilities grew ever larger, however, the need to rely on in-board soundcards turned pointless when complete orchestral scores could be stored on discs. Even in the 32-bit era, you'd have individual licensed songs as the backdrop to your WipEout or Tony Hawk sessions.

Much like the graphics of the game, Final Fantasy VII marks a transition from old, antiquated soundtracks of yore. Uematsu definitely has more sound banks to work with compared to the 8 and 16-bit era, but much of the music has a shrill, tinny tone to it. He wants melodic woodwinds and brass fanfare, but all we get are hilarious squawking sounds that instantly date this to Playstation gaming. Still, ol’ Nobuo proved capable of squeezing every last ounce of musical potential from video games, and with Final Fantasy VII primed to break all sorts of new ground, he wasn’t about to flub on this challenge. In the end, four CDs worth of music emerged from his efforts.

The first disc almost exclusively features music introduced during the Midgar portion of the game (though several pieces were re-used for other sections). Compared to Final Fantasys past, the setting skews more modern, with industrial clank (Makou Reactor and Shinra Company) and slummy urban flavor (Oppressed People works a reggae jam; Turk’s Theme oozes city cool; that bassline in Underneath The Rotting Pizza!) providing a fitting tone. Plus, Mr. Uematsu gets to enjoy his rock indulgences further on tracks like Crazy Motorcycle, Fighting, and Still More Fighting (mind, Final Fantasy’s battle music’s always been rock-heavy). Unfortunately, while Cloud’s unofficial theme of Anxious Heart is a memorable somber dirge broken up with lovely bells, the other character themes on Disc One aren’t terribly memorable; in the renditions we hear on this disc, anyway.

But to talk about those, I must break this review up. As each CD averages twenty tracks, I may as well spotlight each one going forward. Eh, you figure there isn’t enough material to stretch this out? Pft, it’s Final F’n Fantasy VII. What isn’t there to talk about?