By Clark “Plazmataz” Powell, feat. belly dancing by Tavia Morra
I liked the original version of this song, but this remix takes it a few steps higher still. It eschews the more fast-paced middle section of Even in Death, aiming for a more mellow cadence throughout. The key and the bongo drums give it an Eastern sound, and the flighty, expressive violin lead is fantastic. Another one of my favorites.
After a few listen-throughs of the album, I kept coming back to this one. I can’t put my finger on it. The whole song’s built around that cool, whanged electric guitar that first features in the intro. It’s a little more experimental than I usually like (an awful lot of backwards instrumentation in the middle), yet in the end, it works as a dark, moody piece.
It’s ‘Sburban Jungle’ from a wonderful, not-too-distant future (even more so, somehow!). If the original were written in the 50’s, then this would be the version played at the 'World of Tomorrow’ exhibit at the World’s Fair. It’s also a little poppier, maybe even a little bit new wave.
Epic. It’s got the booming symphonic presence of a Hollywood soundtrack. It kicks off dark and brooding. Most of the track, though, suits its title a little better. It’s almost a chase scene, with a mellow interlude not too far from the end.
A big, long, mournful cello piece. I don’t know about the subtitle, Scratch’s Lament, though. For one, I’m not even sure Doc Scratch is capable of lamentation. The track is a little too genuine, a little too legitimately soulful to associate with a smarmy, four-foot-tall puppet with a cue ball for a head.
I don’t know. Maybe this is what’s going through Scratch’s head while Hussie beats the stuffing out of him. I imagine his only regret was that personally embarrassing interlude. Omniscient my ass.
It’s a tale of two songs. The first half is marching-band lite, with a skittery clarinet melody backed up by one lonesome, solemn, drawn-out horn (and the inevitable ticking grandfather clock, because it’s The Felt, and they keep time). Around 3:40 it cracks open into a full-blown synth-driven overture that gives the track a different feel.
Mostly piano, with a side of flute and strings. There’s plenty of time-themed effects in the track, but they’re subtle and serve to accent the melody, rather than overwhelm it. Great melody.
Probably the most conventional track on the album. That says more about the amount of experimentation on the album than anything: this ain’t The Everly Brothers we’re listening to here. The harpsichord is gaudy and pretentious enough to fit Scratch, and the sinister, frantic crescendos are a fitting introduction for the big bad guy.
Play the track in reverse, and it’s a cool crescendo of a song all the way through, with a different take on a familiar melody to boot. Yeah, I know, I’m missing the point, but I just can’t swing that abstract.
Acoustic guitar and flute: yeah, this is the perfect song for a showdown between Vriska and Tavros, only they’re in the American Southwest wearing cowboy hats, in a Mexican standoff with Eli Wallach for some reason.
Seriously, if you like this, go check out some Ennio Morricone, the undisputed king of the Italian western soundtrack. Metallica opens their shows with this (the first link, specifically). Specifically because it kicks ass.
Passive and atmospheric. The staticky, swishy percussion beat gives it a techno feel, but it’s not exactly the kind of thing that plays at troll-raves. It’s a cool jam (in a refrain-y, haunting sort of way, of course).
Most of Vriska’s tunes are pretty intense. This is a nice change of pace. Strings, piano, and xylophone carry the melody. It’s introspective and miles-below-the-ocean calm. The chiptune and synth that starts around 2:30 is so subdued, you could swear it was just another instrument in the orchestra (probably played by Luigi and Sonic the Hedgehog, respectively).
Starts out almost operatic, like it has a story to tell. After that, it’s more whimsical than anything, driven by strung-out clarinet and staccato xylophone. It’s reminiscent of something Tchaikovsky might have written.
This album is jam-packed with excellent, classically-inspired music, and this track might be the purest out of all of them. If I didn’t have the credits right in front of me, I’d swear it was co-composed by Edvard Grieg and Pee Wee Herman.
On a heavier note, this song could fit right into a tense moment in an action movie. Or more appropriately perhaps, into the climax of a stage play.
The groove is excellent. The combination of violin and hip-hop synth is outstanding, and it makes for a track that sounds fresh every time you listen to it.
But then, on another level, it has the feeling of a requiem, of a funeral dirge. Or maybe, just a cry for help: the ‘SOS’ morse code bit near the end pretty well reinforces that. It’s hip and sad all at the same time.
This is good listening. In fact, it’s my top track for the album. It’s a shame that its only feature in the comic (so far!) is buried deep into one of the Openbound games.
By Marcus Carline. With Rachel St. Marseille (voice), Steve Blum (piano), Nicole Sequeira (bass), and Eric Hagstrom (drums)
When I heard this song the first time I dismissed it, which was a mistake. It’s done in the style of a 40’s lounge singer, with a jazz trio backing her up. I mentioned that techno’s a little bit outside of my own personal taste: this is way outside my usual playlist.
That being said, I like this. A lot. It’s smooth, and the vocals are fantastic. And it’s very, very clever. Read the lyrics if you get a chance.
A smooth (Dave-influenced? It just screams ‘coolkid’) percussion beat combined with an easygoing reimagining of Doctor. It’s a cool mix of synth and guitar spread throughout (that melodic guitar cover of Doctor’s main hook that starts around 3:30 is just effortlessly smooth and mellow).
Fanart source: tinikah. Seriously, go check her work out, it’s fantastic!
Wonderfully dark and brooding. The cello opening sets the tone, and this track features some of the best ambient effects (the rain, the heartbeat, and the clock) I’ve ever heard in a song like this. Effects such as these (including the pipe organ in the background) could easily be gimmicky, but they’re used sparingly, and they work great to accent the main melody.
All of this falls away for the harp interlude in the middle, though. And that little section is the best part of the composition.
There’s quite a few epic, symphonic covers scattered throughout this album, and they’re almost all good. This one’s no exception: it’s almost ecclesiastical, with its soaring soprano-heavy choir organ (the ol’ Wurlitzer gets quite a workout on this album, too).
That heavy electric guitar gives the track a metal edge, though. It makes for an almost unrecognizable remix of that venerable chiptune track ‘Atomyk Ebonpyre.’
Don’t let the hokey ragtime piano intro fool you: most of the track is darker in tone. Just as it sounds like it’s about to break out, it falls back a little bit and stays in check.
Reminds me a little of Indigo Heir, except that it’s not quite so perceptibly despondent. That simple drum set percussion line (that fade-in is pretty damn slick) sets the groove, while the flute and strings are more about atmosphere.