Friday, March 27, 2020 — 5A
Arts
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
DYLAN YONO
Daily Arts Writer
MUSIC NOTEBOOK
Video Game Music: A new world we can escape to
I played video games as much as any
other kid growing up in the GameCube
era. My earliest memories of video
game music come from playing “Sonic
Adventure 2” on the Dreamcast,
where you could listen to the original
soundtrack from an extras menu. I was
particularly fond of the hip-hop songs
that played during the Knuckles stages;
God only knows how many times I
listened to the Pumpkin Hill theme
song.
I hadn’t thought all that much about
video game music since then, until last
year. For years I had been a champion of
“lo-fi beats to relax and study to” when
I needed to wind down, but lo-fi beats
just weren’t doing it for me anymore.
Still, I craved that sense of comfort
lo-fi beats evoked. I started listening
to hybrid video-game-lo-fi beats like
“Zelda & Chill.” Eventually that turned
into straight video game playlists, like
“Relaxing and Calming Music from
Chrono series.” YouTube’s suggested
video algorithm went to work, and
before I knew it, I had a beloved rotation
of video game soundtracks and music
compilations.
To this day I can’t remember a single
stand-out song from any of the lo-fi
beats playlists I once cherished, but the
melodies of numerous video games I’ve
never even played somehow managed
to fill up filing cabinets in my brain. In
past times of stress and anxiety, I’ve
turned to video games to escape and
I’ve turned to music to escape. But
now, in a present time of great stress
and anxiety, I turn to a combination of
both — I find myself wanting to escape
into those filing cabinets of video game
music.
Does that make video game music
one of the greatest forms of escapism?
Video game music, or VGM, is music
found in video games. When people
think of VGM, they often think of the
chiptune music of the original “Super
Mario Bros.” — the song’s Wikipedia
page actually cites a 2001 article written
by Daily Arts Editors who claimed,
“Ask a random student to hum the
theme to the classic game and chances
are they’ll know every note.” But VGM
is also the opening theme to “Call of
Duty: Modern Warfare 2” composed by
Hans Zimmer himself, and the licensed
3rd-party music for games like Guitar
Hero or Dance Dance Revolution.
VGM is not a genre; it’s something
bigger than a genre. There’s something
about it that sets it apart. One of the
most popular videos by YouTube user
Seth Everman is “music genre: video
game,” in which Everman improvises
tunes reminiscent of VGM. “He
somehow made this sound like every
game and no game at the same time,”
one user commented. “why do I feel
nostalgic for a game that doesn’t exist”
another user commented on a sequel
video. So if VGM isn’t a genre, what
separates it from other types of music?
I continued exploring video
game
music
on
YouTube,
looking for an answer to that
question. Soon I discovered
the website was home to an
enormous community of VGM
fans. Compilations like the ones
I listened to were big; VGM
cover artists were even bigger.
The first VGM cover to catch
my eye was a video of two dudes
on the street in Melbourne
doing a batshit insane cover
of the Gerudo Valley theme from The
Legend of Zelda. Equally impressive is
the work of full-time cover artists like
Smooth McGroove, one of the most
well known artists for his acappella
rearrangements of VGM classics.
YouTube user Vapidbobcat, who
requested anonymity for this article,
started making video game music
compilations in late 2015, and has since
built his channel up to over 30 thousand
subscribers.
“I’ve always had the habit of keeping
a copy of my favorite songs from each
video game I play, and over the years
that has resulted in me having a pretty
big library of music,” Vapidbobcat
wrote in an email interview with The
Michigan Daily. “That is likely a big
reason why I’ve been able to do this for
so long without running out of ideas.”
Vapidbobcat’s VGM playlists tap
into the versatility of video game
soundtracks by crafting a specific
aesthetic. Often these are seasonally
themed, like winter or holiday music;
other times they’re more novel, like
“Nintendo elevator music.”
“In some cases it is easy, like, if I’m
doing a fire-themed compilation, then I
just need to go over as many fire levels
as I can and see what music plays in
them,” Vapidbobcat explained. “But
sometimes I like to try my hand at more
‘abstract’ themes, and in this situation I
simply take a look at what feelings I’m
trying to convey, and what video game
songs are good at conveying that feeling
(in my opinion).”
A community of fans loves and
appreciates the work that Vapidbobcat
puts into his VGM compilations. On
a relaxing spring-themed collection
uploaded
last
week,
many
fans
expressed gratitude for a moment of
peace amid a pandemic. “thank u vapid
for making my quarantine as peaceful
and beautiful as possible,” one user
commented. “In a time of crisis and
isolation we need your videos even
more,” another said.
Vapidbobcat is in tune with his
fans: The words he shared with me
only a few days earlier, right before the
coronavirus panic dug its claws into
Michigan, echoed their sentiments.
“A lot of people enjoy video game
music because it helps them cope with
stressful
situations,”
Vapidbobcat
wrote to me. “It reminds them of a time
where they had no worries in life.” I can
relate to that.
VGM has the power to transport
listeners to another world in a way
that’s unique from other types of music.
It can transport listeners to the world of
a video game, or the world of VGM on
YouTube, a world where fans can find
community through cool covers and
compilations. But the VGM community
isn’t just online — it’s right here at the
University of Michigan.
At Festifall my sophomore year,
before my appreciation for video game
music blossomed, I stopped by a booth
for Video Game Music Club, or VGMC,
and signed up for the mailing list on a
whim. I never made it past the mass
meeting, but I saw a club buzzing with
activity. Topics ranged from breaking
down the appeal of Wii menu music to
learning to make your own video game
music. VGMC is a unique space for
VGM appreciation on campus, uniting
video game fans, cover artists and even
aspiring composers.
The weekend after
classes
were
moved
online, I walked into
East Quad to the tune of
a somber piano echoing
through the halls. It was
a gorgeous melody, but
somewhat sad, a fitting
backdrop to the scores
of students pushing blue
bins and packing cars
to leave campus. At the
helm of the piano was
VGMC president and LSA senior Ajilan
Potter. The melancholic tune I caught
was “H’aanit’s Theme” from “Octopath
Traveler,” transitioning into an original
composition that Potter was working
on.
VGMC started in Winter 2018, when
Potter was trying to get a band together
to do VGM covers and jams. In light of
complex logistics for starting a band
— like finding a rehearsal space on a
campus where recreational space is
tight — Potter decided to start a club
for the time being. But that niche has a
growing audience.
“It started out really small, five
to ten people every week … now we
consistently have between ten, 15, 20
people,” Potter said in an interview
with The Michigan Daily. “Sometimes
the whole room is full depending on
what we’re talking about.”
Potter is an artist of many mediums:
On top of founding VGMC, he’s a 3D
modeler, a writer with two finished
manuscripts under his belt and a self-
taught musician. Video game music is
what led Potter to pick up the piano.
“When I played ‘Final Fantasy
XIII’ … I was just blown away by the
soundtrack,” Potter said. “I think that
was the first time I was consciously
like, ‘I don’t just like this, I love this … I
started learning piano from listening to
those piano collections … I couldn’t live
without at least trying to play it.”
Now, Potter is building a community
around video game music at the
University through VGMC. The club’s
focus has shifted semester to semester
based on what the members want; last
year was a lot of VGM composition,
and this year has been a lot of VGM
appreciation. Whether it’s composition
or appreciation, a space like this for
VGM is hard to find. The University
offers a popular class on video game
music through the School of Music,
Theatre & Dance, but it’s hard to get
into, and it’s only a VGM community for
a single semester. That makes VGMC a
rare sanctuary for VGM enthusiasts on
campus. For some members, the club
has even been a launchpad to work on
their own VGM projects.
VGM has power that goes beyond
nostalgia. Like myself, Potter and
Vapidbobcat both appreciate music
from games that they’ve never played.
What makes this music so sticky, so
memorable in a way that ChilledCow’s
lo-fi beats never were for me?
One
key
difference
is
the
compositional
brilliance
behind
game companies like Nintendo. It’s
easy to think VGM is just background
music; when tied to an interactive
experience like a video game, it’s
logical to assume music is secondary
to the game’s journey. But VGM is
it’s own journey. Composers employ
musical techniques to build a specific
mood or even form a sonic narrative
complete with action, climax and
resolution.
HBO
Read more online at
michigandaily.com
But now, in a present time of great
stress and anxiety, I turn to a
combination of both — I find myself
wanting to excape into those filing
cabinets of video game music
TV REVIEW
In ‘Westworld’, Aaron Paul reveals a not-too-distant future
Well, it’s here folks: The robots
are out of the park. Season three of
“Westworld” brings the promise of a
host takeover through the ringleader
of our army of artificial intelligence,
Delores Abernathy (Evan Rachel Wood,
“True Blood”). She claims she wants
to rule the human world, which, for
all its futuristic luxury, still has lots of
problems. After being locked into the
perspective of those in the parks for the
past two seasons, the expanded setting
of season three makes it easier to see the
societal issues that permeate through a
future of touchscreens, home artificial
intelligence and self-driving cars.
After being framed as a scapegoat
for the Westworld massacre in season
one, our de facto protagonist, Bernard
(Jeffrey Wright, “The Goldfinch”), is
hiding. He works at a meat packing
factory in Southeast Asia. In his free
time, he has engineered a means to
better control his computer alter-ego
with the touch of a button. While the rest
of the world is unaware that he is also a
host, he tries to find a way to return
to the park in order to prevent further
destruction. As he works and lives, we
can see how severely underdeveloped
some areas of the world remain despite
the highly advanced technologies that
exist in American society.
The dystopian class-divide is depicted
most clearly through the storyline of
Caleb, played by the brilliant Aaron
Paul (“Breaking Bad”). “Sometimes it
seems like the world looks alright. They
put a coat of paint on it,” he says to his
therapist, “but on the inside it’s rotting
to pieces.” As a construction worker,
Caleb helps build the many elegant
skyscrapers that adorn Los Angeles. As
an ex-soldier Caleb is still mourning the
loss of his fallen comrade. He can’t seem
to catch a break as he constantly tries
to secure a job above his class standing.
In one particular scene, Caleb receives
a call informing him he’s been turned
down. After politely asking where else
he might be able to apply, he realizes he’s
only talking to an automated voice on the
other end. This constant rejection forces
Caleb to routinely turn to petty crime to
manage his lack of control over his life.
Surrounded
by
the
pervasive
affluence of the future, the addition of
Caleb’s perspective to the story gives
a better idea of civilians who may
be considered “low-lifes” within the
narrative. In classic Aaron Paul fashion,
a lowly character is used to give us more
understanding as to why Westworld
was built in the first place. In an age
where computers dominate over human
freedom, it would seem therapeutic
to assert your power over a bunch of
robots in a controlled environment. His
presence also guarantees an inevitable
interaction with the hosts, which
will prove to be intriguing from the
perspective of someone who has never
had the means to set foot inside the
park’s premises.
One of the most delicate elements
of
“Westworld”
continues
to
be
the
carefully
placed
musical
accompaniment. Our ears bounce from
hurried electro-funk beats during action
sequences to slower piano riffs during
scenes of contemplation and character
intimacy. The image of the scripted,
self-playing piano lingers from the first-
season as Delores slowly leads the hosts
to break free from the coded scripts they
have been imprisoned by.
The newest season of “Westworld”
proves
it
MAXWELL BARNES
Daily Arts Writer
Read more online at
michigandaily.com