The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time Has Some Great Writing Music
Listening to Tingle’s Theme might help you write better stories — depending if you have good memories of Tingle — but who does?
Music helps me write smoothly. In fiction writing, this process becomes unique when emotion, creativity, and the C-notes merge to create a great work and worlds thought to be seen only in dreams.
Some turn to classical music for inspiration; Bach, Mozart, Prestini, Marquez. Others enjoy EDM mixes, cold synths and twinkling electronics. Maybe some Mongolian throat singing gets you in the desk and in the mood to write. You know who you are (it’s me too).
Whatever it is, writing fiction is unique in that structuring words around a story creates a feeling; in the best cases, a message.
For me, I grew up with a lot of video games in my life. Each of these pieces of art had some bomb-ass soundtracks. Final Fantasy, Metroid, Halo, Kingdom Hearts, Mario, Madworld, No More Heroes, Spore, Sneak King. All certified platinum record classics. In my mind anyway.
But for a S-rank standard soundtrack, I turn to the Legend of Zelda series. Specifically to the little known game, Ocarina of Time.
INT. Living Room — Spring, 2009
The floor is cold this time of year. I sit cross legged in front of the old CRT TV in our living room. In Canada, the winter is slowly melting away, and the start of April brings the golden light of the sun through the window for the first time in months.
Typically, this TV is used for alternative marathons of the Spectacular Spiderman and Hannah Montana. But over the next few weeks, this big blocky bastard would be to the Wii Virtual Console, and those first piano chords that let us into the world of Hyrule.
Grassy fields stretching into the horizon, frightening foes highly armed, murderous chickens with deceitful tones. A game, a world, an adventure.
Ocarina of Time was the first time I realized I could take a journey into my TV that wouldn’t end with a laugh track, a happy ending, or the future I can see (that’s so raven). While other games had me collecting and battling little animals (Pokemon) or creating hideous monstrosities and taking over the galaxy (Spore), they didn’t really come with a story.
So many different characters to get attached to. The farm girl Malon, the Goron chief Darunia, the simp Ruto. Not to mention the Skull Kid, the wizard aunties, the Deku Tree. Everyone had their own theme music, their own way of speaking, it was all so engrossing to the experience.
That ending still has me thinking — “Hey listen — thank God Navi transcended into the afterlife as a reward for beating the game.”
Ocarina of Time was the first time I realized a game could be art. High concept fantasy with a touching story that stayed with you.
And not only were the characters emotionally tied up, but the areas too. The Water Temple, Lon Lon Ranch, beating the Shadow Temple, beating the Water Temple again when my save corrupted, slaying Ganondorf, that feeling of sultry terror in the Great Fairy cave (you know what I’m saying).
And none of this would have been possible without producer Koji Kondo’s music. The atmosphere of boss fights, the dungeons, the character themes. Little noises when you solved a puzzle correctly. Or that victory theme when you got a new item.
Everything, memories of the actions you’ve taken and the impact on the game world, become intertwinned with the music of Ocarina of Time.
Assassins Creed Origins, I throughouly enjoy this soundtrack, but you’re only getting one vibe here; Egypt. And it doesn’t matter how diverse ancient Egypt, or historical Egypt, or modern Egypt is. You’re getting Sarah Schachner’s rendition of Ancient Egypt.
Meanwhile, Ocarina of Time is over here taking me all over the world. From American folk to ballads full of regret, from hauntingly mysterious to celebratory Carribean tones; any sub-genre of musical style I want to write in, Ocarina of Time has it in a world that feels alive.
Producer Shigiro Miyamoto and Kondo were interested in Incan, Latin and other international music at the time. Kondo really ran with this idea, bringing instruments like the sitar, steel drums, and ocarina into the composition.
And Kondo was restricted in how to make not only the music, but the players musical spells. In the game, the player is able to play an ocarina with five notes, only five buttons. The songs had to be sad or cheery because of this tonal limitation.
But what makes this music powerful is both the simplicity, and the way the player interacts with it. Using it for clues, transportation, and atmosphere.
Interactivity is the name of video game music. Keeping the player engaged in a task, engrossing them in the world, this is interactive music.
Not all Interactive Music is video game music, but all video game music is interactive
8-Bit Music Theory makes some great stuff — my main take away is that by giving the player agency in participating in the music through the Ocarina spells, the game becomes more interactive.
The music becomes more memorable, tied to player actions. And that’s one of the best things music can do; create a strong emotional response.
Grant Kirkhope, composer for games such as Banjo Kazooie, said “music takes you to another world, and that is the glory of video games.” That integration is a complete process. Furthermore, composer Winifred Phillips writes that gameplay is the structure that music is wraped around. It needs to match the energy of the level, the visual-kinectic rhythm of the gameplay, improving player immersion and involvement.
“Video game music has to do all the things that more traditional music does: convey emotions, alter the mood, and send a message. But it also performs the important task of keeping players motivated, intrigued, and focused.” — Kellen Beck (he wrote a great set of articles on video game music)
Video Game music does a lot of heavy lifting in creating that emotional experience while playing the game and experiencing its world.
But there are limitations to interactive music and its effects on our brain.
Q. What are the neurological effects of interactive music?
- Hwang and Oh discovered interacting with background music engages E-Customers more due to a high level of novelty. There was a perceived vividness that predicted cognitive and affective engagement — the newer the interactive music, the more engaged the customer was in shopping.
- Kain, Andrews, et al. discovered that music does not relieve anxiety for children going under preinduction for surgery. Zora’s Domain did not make them stress less.
- deHaan, Kuwada, and Reel discovered in language learning, interactive music in games (such as Parappa the Rapper) actually hindered the players learning of that language. Due to having to switch between different modes, playing and learning (looking up new words, writing them down, etc.) increasing stress and hindering enjoyment.
Stories simply need to be told for moments to be made. It’s low stakes in the real world, low stress — yet emotionally intense, punctuated by soundtracks that work with the players experience while subtly dictating it.
When Koji Kondo created the dungeon music for the game, he ensured there was no melody for players to become attached to. No specific feeling was being conveyed through musical changes, rather a continuing theme that pushed players into the atmosphere of the temples.
When a enemy appears in Ocarina of Time, the music switches to percussion, it gets louder, and it conveys time for battle. And with those triumphant horns, you as the player are driven to win.
Even characterization is influenced by the music. Malon is loved by the horses because of her song, and that tune from the American folk dream is played everytime you call for your horse, bringing memories of lax living, travelling, and a childhood crush on a farm girl.
Ocarina of Time is a masterclass for creating music that ties itself strongly to memory, through experiences, interactions, and player actions.
Song repetition alters your brain physiology, and could increase your ability to work for long periods of time by placing you in a trance like state. And from many a late night term paper, I can attest this works.
I wrote an entire history paper on sleep paralysis in medieval Europe texts to the Forest Temple track looped for 10 hours. It felt like I was in the Forest Temple, under the threat of death and enemies while trying to find the solution to the puzzles of the temple, while trying to solve the mysteries of the past. It was a surreal experience. It was also 2am.
And despite the stress, anxiety, and caffeine, the paper turned out alright. I didn’t stop writing, like being pushed to solve the mystery of the Forest Temple.
Much as Link experiences the Forets Temple as a forgotten and ancient place in the game, I used the music to achieve a similar atmosphere – pushing through the unknown.
It is not the story of games that attaches us to them, even though there are some engrossing ones out there. It is the interactivity of games that creates such powerful and longlasting memories and experiences. As a writer, drawing on such inspirations can only be a benefit to the craft.
At the end of the day, games are restricted by systems, writing is restricted by genre. The similarity between the two is they require emotion behind them to be impactful. Writing and video games both need music.
To end this article, I want to plug some of my favourite musical creations from the Zelda community. These are all awesome, please check them out, and keep playing that Ocarina you crazy nerds.
