Biweekly Music Wednesday! No. 38 ~Forest of Hope~ (Pikmin)

Origin: Pikmin

Plays In: The Forest of Hope
Status: Original Composition
Composed by: Hajime Wakai

Whenever I hear the Forest of Hope, I'm there. I'm there in the sunbaked Japanese countryside I dreamed of as a little boy, swallowed by trees and creeks. They whisper endlessly, their shaded bases and sunken pebbles holding as much allure as Kirby Super Star's backgrounds, as much gravity and significance as the greatest of Super Mario's battles and the fainted nostalgia of EarthBound's streets.

But I cannot relax for long, as a memory calls for me.

I'm walking down an obscured dirt path, the leaves crunching beneath me as I sink further into a tunnel of trees. The road is endless, the sun shining through the mass overarching of leaves no matter how long I walk. What I seek is here, but it slips further and further out of my grasp. I can feel it: the knowing prodding from the deepest recesses of my memory growing ever more quiet. I stop and observe my surroundings, absorbing the futility of it all.

Do I even remember what I'm looking for?

Just as I'm about to take another step, movement catches my eye. Emerging underneath from a decayed leaf arrives a lone Yellow Pikmin, hopping excitedly at my presence. As I crouch down to meet its level, it dashes over and gibbers in its alien language. With a sideways glance, it points giddily to a nearby crowd of shrubbery and runs off, making motions for me to follow.

Has it been waiting for me?

Letting it take the lead, I watch as it's swallowed in a sea of green before taking cautious steps forward. Am I afraid I'll squish my new friend in the mess of flora, or am I simply not ready for what I'm about to find? I quiver in fright until the shrubs shake, the Pikmin protruding its head and motioning to me again before diving back in.

I hesitantly step into the brush, and then I remember.

Long ago, just outside of my cousins' backyard lied an urban dirt road. To the right lied a small patch of woods by the neighbors, and within was a small playhouse. It was homemade, wooden with chipped, white paint and a red roof. It hadn't been used in a long time: strewn inside were dusty chairs, tables and windows, and Daddy-Long-Leg spiders hid within the cracks of the walls.

What was it doing in Japan? I don't know, but maybe it was there all along.

I keep walking. Pushing aside branch after branch and leaf after leaf, the memories gradually piece themselves together. How I walked out of my cousins' house without a word, opening the gate to leave and find my hidden playhouse. How I always wondered who it belonged to, who played within its tiny confines, how no one ever noticed my silent occupation inside.

How, someday, I never managed to find it again.

And then, there it lies.

Situated just outside a spacious clearing, the playhouse is bathed in a ray of light. A side window is host to a fallen tree branch, and perched on-top is the Yellow Pikmin. It waves silently before hopping through the empty pane,

Holding my breath, I stride over, crouch down slightly to meet the door size, and walk inside.

It is just as I remember it, dust and all. But a gentle aroma fills the air; two warm cups of ocha tea sit on the old table, one much smaller than the other. The Yellow Pikmin sits opposite of the cup and, turning to face me, points to its larger counterpart. Another gift. I make my way over to a chair and wrap my fingers around the cup handle, lifting it to gently clink our glasses together.

We sip from our cups and turn to watch the sun set over the clearing. The euphoria settles within both of us, words not needed as what we've waited our entire for lives sinks in. The reminder that so many other abandoned memories remain unsolved prods in my brain, yet for now, the catharsis of salvaging this one moment rises above all.

But it's not for long, because it is already time for bed.

Final Thoughts: If the above narrative hadn't implied it, this is one of my gaming comfort songs. What are some of yours?

Biweekly Music Wednesday! No. 27 ~Main Menu~ (Star Fox 64)

Origin: Star Fox 64
Plays in: Main Menu
Status: Original Composition
Composer: Koji Kondo

You're adrift. You don't quite know how you got here, yet your mind can't muster the strength to ask why. The deep darkness of space threatens to swallow you whole, but being surrounded by thousands of stars instils only calm. You merely float along, devoid of all will, content with wherever the gentle pull of space takes you.

And then, within a moment's passing, you land. Your surroundings materialize via wireframe before taking solid form. It's a forgotten museum isolated within the reaches of space: crafts and mannequins of all sorts are on display, all depicting the heroics of Team Star Fox. Be it wall-embedded videos detailing General Pepper's military accomplishments, a diorama of the Battle for Katina, and even a room dedicated to the inventions of the Toad family (complete with prototype replicas for the Landmaster and the Blue Marine), you roam this museum for what seems like years.

There are no other visitors. There's not even a sign of whoever built this museum hidden away amongst the stars. Your only companion is the above song, which plays endlessly through the speakers. It fits the place like a glove, and compels you to delve further and further into these hallowed halls, to learn all you can about the most legendary merc-for-hire team in the universe.

But you never finish. The moment the song begins to fade, your surroundings begin to revert alongside it. From solid form to wireframes to nothingness, only the stars remain as your consciousness drifts back to reality. And that's quite alright; you'll be immortalized within these hallowed halls one day.

After all, you finally got your own spaceship.

...sans the surprise ending, that's the imagery that always come to mind whenever I start up Star Fox 64. It's amazing how the game can switch between its typical B-movie atmosphere, a hardened space drama, and degree of prestige within a moment's notice. It's all thanks to the tagteam duo of Hajime Wakai and Koji Kondo, although the latter's work is what we're featuring today. Koji Kondo's menu theme for Star Fox 64 remains one of the finest menu themes in Nintendo history, elevating the game to the aforementioned level of prestige while maintaining the chillest calm.

A calm that I often sit back and reflect upon before attempting a high-score. I don't have a choice; it compels to recline and let my mind wander. And that goes for even after I've finished my latest campaign; after all, it does play when you're entering your latest score. If not, I zip right back to the menu to ponder a bit.

                                

And while I'm at it, here's the version found in the 3DS remake. While its rearranged soundtrack had its ups and downs, I rather like the take on this song. I still lack the proper vocabulary to discuss the finer points of music, but the instruments used here grant a different flavor while largely maintaining the same tone. Dunno if that made sense, but given the severity of music misfires in this remake, it's more than enough to earn a thumbs-up for me.

I wonder if Star Fox Zero's menu theme will be as good? Between this and the starry theme for the original Star Fox, it has a lot to live up to. Come to think of it, who's composing that game, anyway? I wonder if Mahito Yokota's arrangement for the Star Wolf/Sector Z themes in Smash is a sign...?

Final Thoughts: I went in a bit of a different direction here today. Did you like it? I'm thinking of ways to differentiate entries so I can flex out my writing, so lemme know.

Biweekly Music Wednesday! No. 15 ~Valley of Repose~ (Pikmin 2)

Origin: Pikmin 2
Plays In: Valley of Repose
Status: Original Composition

Composers: Hajime Wakai/Kazumi Totaka

You know how some songs possess the rare ability to just instantly transport you into a previous time? It's a particularly strong form of nostalgia: obviously you can't just repeatedly abuse the song--lest it lose its magical powers--but that power is so mystical, so emotionally-absorbent that you can't help but leave it on during one cloudy day and remember.

Pikmin 2's Valley of Repose is one of those songs for me. My life was something of a whirlwind at the time of the game's release (Late summer 2004): I'd just discovered the late-night Adult Swim cartoon block, was on the cusp of becoming a teenager, and, best of all, was reveling in what was quite possibly the best time to be a young, passionate Nintendo flower child. It was just months after the awe-inspiring E3 2004 conference, which unleashed a barrage of long-awaited sequels (the aforementioned Pikmin 2 and Paper Mario: The Thousand Year Door), the handheld DS that quickly won the hearts of many a fan, and of course, a realistic Zelda.

Being the impressionable, passionate fanboy I was, to my current shame I discovered the perfect outlet to express my excitement: the official Nintendo Nsider Forums.  

Legendary for attracting sheer amounts of stupidity and taking up pitchforks for the sake of bashing every single aspect of The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker, I'm still at a loss as to how exactly describe Nsider. I'd like to say it was the embodiment of internet underage chaos ("why does link have eyes?"), yet the imbalanced debates between raging l33t-speak preteens and young adults blessed with large vocabularies prove otherwise. I could be going crazy, though, for such proof no longer exists, but I'll get into that later. 

Anyway, I stumbled onto Nsider purely out of the appeal in the live chatrooms featuring folks who actually worked at Nintendo's American branch, but the post-E3 frenzy finally inspired me to get posting. This was actually a pivotal step for me: as much as I indulged in the likes of Smashboards and Starmen.net, there was always an obvious age-gap between me and most of of the other forumgoers, and at most times I felt too intimidated in sharing my inferior childish opinions with the cool, older kids. But here was a Nintendo-granted haven with kids on (roughly) the same maturity level as I was, and so there was no barrier in letting my voice be heard.

I really let myself go. I frequently argued with people over quoting each other repeatedly (causing radical disproportion in pages and so they took forever to read) and having crushes on fictional characters. In response to the flood of terrible fanfiction (of which often involved shambling attempts at humor in bashing the Tingle character), I created my own like-minded parody involving Mexican Pikmin and Kool-Aid that lasted for a year. I rambled about the greatness of the chubby tummies of Purple Pikmin. In the midst of all, bacon strips somehow became a false god to me and I advocated its wonderfulness constantly in the Pokemon Center chatroom, endorsed by Dratini himself.

And yet, I was almost never shunned for this madness; in fact, I found camaraderie. I quickly become known as the "Bacon Boy" by chatgoer and ficwriter alike. People flocked to my fic, and the thread actually ended up being under moderated watch due to my fans endlessly spamming the pages. I joined others in pre-teen Japanophile rage over the 4Kids butchering of the F-Zero anime adaption and the new Pokemon Gonbe being granted the localized name of Munchlax (the latter being by far and away my most embarassing "weaboo" moment). I posted a topic one day about how I was suddenly drowning in Super Mario nostalgia, and people chimed in on how much the games meant to them.

I made special friends over fanfiction, over heated Zelda-related debates that lasted for pages on end, and over what were simply just shared interests. We were all in awe of Pikmin 2, Paper Mario: TTYD, and the DS. I continually engaged in Zelda RPs. I roomed in Cabin 4 during the three-day online camping trip in Camp Hyrule and watched the awards ceremony with the rest of the forum. I learned life lessons, I was one of the gang, and living, breathing people working at NOA were just a click away. Life was good.

And then, something tragic happened: it stopped being funny.

Nay, it stopped being fun.

I don't know exactly when it happened. Maybe it was the day when I first came across erotic fan fiction and my innocence shattered, or the day I when I dug up an old VHS tape of Sleeping Beauty and I said to myself, "I've matured." Right at that moment, I was whisked away to an old dream I had when I was seven, watching as the opening camera from Mario 64 shifted not to Mario's warp pipe, but up, up the castle where Yoshi slept in a nest at the very top.

I don't know what that symbolized.

My Nsider friends either up and vanished or just left a final, cryptic message, never to be seen again. The flood of posts, members and memes continued, but nothing elicited laughter out of me. I suddenly wasn't interested in writing the fic anymore. The next season of Camp Hyrule didn't interest me, as did the allure of conversing with NOAs. It was all slipping further and further away, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

The spark was gone, and the depression following soon after with my social withdraw and my brother's entrance into the world of drugs left Nsider all but a distant, bittersweet memory.

In September 2007, two years after I'd--for the most part--stopped posting, Nintendo closed the forums for good without notice. Underneath the typical PR bullshit, we still don't really know why.

Valley of Repose doesn't just bring these memories back; it continues them. I'm a working member of society, walking out in the city streets one snowy day. It's a cloudy afternoon, just past the holidays. It's an ordinary winter day, maybe not that cold, and then I suddenly bump into someone. We both gasp. It's the guy I used to do Zelda RPs with, or the girl I made bad Kirby fic parodies with, or that one guy who apparently didn't know he was a forum-appointed Sage until he walked into the Pokemon Center chatroom. We jubilate in fervor and dine outside a coffee shop, catching up on old times and our new families and lives.

My friend suddenly stops laughing, and looks at me straight in the eye with unwavering force. "Do you miss those days?"

I blink and scratch the back of my head. Suddenly, it all rushes back: Shaun's pickles. Stumpy the horse. Me performing avatar sacrifices in the chatroom. The nostalgic, insanely popular NOA_Rufus Earthbound thread. The "wind waker outtakes" fanfic that was literally five lines of dialogue. That one time Nintendo published three new screenshots of Zelda: Twilight Princess and everyone and their dog posted threads about it. The cults of Family Guy, Case Closed and Aqua Teen Hunger Force. The never-ending drama of "Why Hyrule Must Live"  and how The Wind Waker "declared war" on all other Zelda games for killing off Hyrule. The big blue of Colette's eyes in that one Tales of Symphonia avatar and the rainbow of colors assigned to each character-themed posting rank. Bacon.

...and then I remember how the very last post of Nsider Forums was "SHADOW'S RACING MAMA LUIGI" and then stuff like this and I have my answer: "Y'know, lemme tell you about a really cool place called NeoGAF."

Final Thoughts: My Nsider username was named after the Mr. Saturns of Earthbound, yet I never actually obtained a Mr. Saturn rank on there. Bummer.