There is no single piece of music that is able to transport me back in time,
remind me of home and growing up, making me feel like a kid again, more than this.
This opening cascade of piano notes that’s followed by a quietly increasing string is
the sound of my childhood. The title screen to Ocarina of Time is iconic to so many people in
a way that is nearly indescribable. It just hits. The notes don’t immediately kick in,
instead the silence is first broken by the sound of Epona's hooves galloping on hard dirt. Most
title screens at the time were about selling what you’re about to experience to the player,
a loud bright frame or action heavy sequences all meant to overwhelm the player in an attempt
to keep their attention and show off just how cool the following hours will be. Ocarina of
Time was different. It’s slow, it’s calm, it’s serene. You could make the argument that The
Legend of Zelda at this point had built a certain level of prestige among fans and an instant hook
isn’t necessary but I think that’s missing the bigger point, the Zelda franchise has
a very specific goal when it comes to music in mind and this title screen is a perfect
reflection of that and it’s the reason there is nothing else that sounds like a Zelda game.
Nintendo has mastered the art of scoring their franchises in a way that feels distinct to each
individual property while retaining an overall feeling that says “this is still a Nintendo game”.
Even within their own franchises the music can twist and evolve as the series’ themselves do,
and for the most part the musical progression between each game feels as natural as the
mechanical evolution. From Mario’s more pop music styles to Metroid Prime’s space
influenced ambient electronics, every game has its own feel to it but no game within
Nintendo’s catalogue demonstrates this more than The Legend of Zelda.
The range of Zelda music is vast and versatile and as a result of that, many people can point
to different songs and say that one is their favourite and you’d be hard pressed to find
two people who agree on the subject. Series composer Koji Kondo is undoubtedly a legend
within the industry and his influence from all games he’s scored can be felt all across the
medium but there is something about the work he has done on Zelda that feels different,
and that legacy has lived on in even the games he had no part in scoring.
So what is it exactly that makes the Zelda series feel so unique? On a more tangible level there
are a ton of things people can point to and say “this is what makes a Zelda game, a Zelda game”
and those things can range from the dungeons to its heavy reliance on themes for storytelling and
even its sense of exploration but honestly those are easy to replicate, while the results may vary
from title to title, you can point to a game like Tunic and say, it’s a Zelda clone, and you would
understand right away what that person means, however it doesn’t feel like a Zelda game,despite
having a lot of the trappings that you would expect from one. And I am willing to bet a lot
of that intangible feeling comes from the music. One of my favourite Koji Kondo quotes of all time
is about how he set out to write music for the original Legend of Zelda on the NES in 1986.
“The first Zelda… With Mario, the music is inspired by the game controls,
and its purpose is to heighten the feeling of how the game controls. With Zelda,
I was trying to enhance the atmosphere of the environments and locations. The sound of Mario
is kind of like popular music, and Zelda is like… a kind of music you've never heard
before. So I try to incorporate many different types of music to create an otherworldly feel.”
An otherworldly feel is a concept that has remained since that first title on the NES, and
while the series has what you could call more traditional music, it still has those moments
of otherworldliness that is especially prominent in dungeons and that to me is the unreplicatable
feeling Zelda Clones miss, and it makes sense. Creating music that people haven’t heard before
isn’t an easy task, how do you copy an unknown? How does music that is so unfamiliar create
such an intense connection with its audience and what about it all gives it such staying
power that lends itself to an uncountable amount of covers and renditions from fans.
Let’s go back to that title screen for a moment. One of the reasons people play video games is
escapism, a way to get lost in another world and take some time away from your own for however
long you need or can. The title screen is the last barrier that needs to be crossed before entering a
world, it should prime you ready to go and that’s something Koji Kondo understood perfectly when
composing this piece. It’s not otherworldly, not yet, it has those hints but it lulls you
into a sense of what's to come, or if you’re returning, it has become familiar. Comforting.
Like a second home. Almost all of the Zelda title screens do this in some way or another,
they manage to capture the tone of its game in a way that you feel like you are returning to a
place to see the next incarnation of Link and explore the world of most likely Hyrule with
him. From Majora’s Mask’s cheery hopefully plucking of strings that turns around right
at the end reflecting how the citizens feel about the world versus how it actually is,
to Skyward Swords more filled out orchestral rendition of an old classic Fairy Fountain,
symbolic of Fi and her forthcoming adventure with the hero clad in green.
When it comes to accompanying a game with music, not only does its tone need to be matched in some
way, it also needs to elevate the experience in its own way. It’s the reason a soundtrack like
Outer Wilds for example is so beloved, you can’t really have one without the other after they’re
paired and experienced together, listening to a song from a game, or really any medium,
should bring you back to that exact moment it’s there to serve. Zelda music is iconic for a
reason and that reason is Koji Kondo understood this idea, instead of creating music to act as
something that sat in the background as players adventure through Hyrule, he instead opted for
that otherworldly feeling, something that’s almost tangible in a way, the atmosphere. Something you
can feel but not really explain. But I will try my best anyway. That otherworldly feeling might feel
like the Metroid soundtrack to some if you were to say it outright, but here it’s not that, it’s more
that songs become more of a vibe, an instance where the walls and inhabitants are talking in
song, creating a backing track to your adventure rather than conventional instruments you would
find that usually make up an OST but ones that help define the world of what is a Zelda game.
Zelda songs can be broken up into a two main
sub-categories that make up its now vast library, the more, for lack of a better word traditional
songs, the ones like you’d hear in open fields or open waters as Link adventures forth to new
horizons, these are more familiar and even if you’d never heard them before they place
a sense of comfort on a player that says it’s okay to go forth and seek new things,
it’s what you are meant to be doing. It helps keep a sense of grounding within the world. The other
is that one that’s a little harder to grasp, these are generally used within the dungeons,
the unknown and unexplored, a sense of unknowing and sometimes dread lingering and looming over
players to help build a tense atmosphere that asks if you should be where you are.
While dungeon music in most cases isn’t inviting it also manages to not be off-putting,
instead it feels almost agnostic to the existence of Link, an extension of a temple you’re exploring
rather than some instruments played to imitate its stature, allowing room for questioning but also
giving space for answers. The low hum of the wind in the Arbiter's Ground or the sterile mechanisms
of the Breath of the Wild Shrines feel like they have been playing long before you arrived and
will continue after you leave. It is not always clear if the tracks are actually diegetic or not,
but it always feels as if Link is hearing exactly what the player is hearing. Every dungeon past the
original NES titles, which had the unfortunate lack of memory for more than a few songs and
variations, have their own distinct feel and have carefully mimicked what it would sound like if the
walls could sing. You know you’re in the forest temple in Ocarina because the instrumentation
sounds like wood imps crying down the corridors, the Tower of the Gods feels as powerful as its
name implies as the bells ring out loud and long while a choir vocalises their hymn as a
respect. The presence of otherworldly forces is felt through the music, as Link must fight and
solve puzzles. It’s why a battle with an enemy, mini boss or big boss theme feels jarring, it’s
out of place, an invasive presence somewhere it shouldn’t be, coming in with harsh stings before
hitting its melody, a way to catch you off guard before launching an attack. A sharp juxtaposition
that snaps you out of the exploration to remind you what’s really at stake within the world.
This is why Skywards Sword’s dungeon music feels less celebrated than the rest of the series,
while interesting in its own right, without the vision of series composer Koji Kondo,
the tracks feel a little more traditional than its predecessors, there’s distinct melody and
instrumentation that’s easy for most people to pick out and pin down as a way to familiarise
themselves with their surroundings and feel comfortable rather than out of place. This
isn’t a bad approach, it’s just not the Zelda approach, and I suspect this was one of many
reasons people didn’t connect to it in the same way. Honestly Kondo’s departure from the series
might have something to do with this, however the other explanation I’ve thought about since
the game's release is the fact it’s the first game in series history to use a full orchestra
for the majority of its music. With regards to Twilight Princess Kondo reveals he wanted
to use an orchestra but ultimately due to a lack of time to pull it off, withdrew that
decision. What’s interesting though is he wanted a string section for “lyrical moments” of the game,
and that is something that feels like it carried over into Skyward Sword despite
having a new composer. Zelda has never had spoken dialogue at this point but it didn’t need it,
the music replaced the emotion of words with songs, and it led to some truly memorable
moments. Any fan of the series can tell you it doesn’t lack any emotional weight.
Part of that is the emotional resonance that this series can hold in its songs, whether it’s hearing
the chords of Zelda’s Lullaby played on a harp, as if it was the first time it was played and passed
down from the world of Skyward Sword to Ocarina of Time or Epona’s song lasting through multiple
generations there is nothing like waiting for an old favourite to appear again somewhere along a
new journey. However it’s not just old songs that can have this effect, Midna’s Lament is one of
the most devastating songs in the entire series. Midna’s regular theme is slow, it hesitates in the
same way Link does with his new companion, but when it comes to her life on the line,
that melody is sped up and desperate moving from a wind instrument to a piano that can convey more
range and emotion. And for as much hate as Fi might get in Skyward Sword, her farewell theme,
the culmination of all her moments coming to ahead in one final goodbye is maybe the most
tear jerking moment in the franchise, and it’s for a character you probably grew to despise
but the music can just carry so much emotional weight it’s hard not to feel just a little bit
sad as the flute plays her melody one last time This is where Skyward Sword succeeds the most,
in creating an almost cinematic soundtrack that perfectly scores the most heartfelt
moments of the game. In a way it almost feels like a conclusion and celebration of all that
came before it. Using that orchestra and live music to almost sell you a performance of old
favorites. It may be the first game in the canon but it feels like the last act of its musical.
If Skyward Sword is the conclusion of Zelda music, Breath of the Wild is the aftermath. The
Hyrule we find in the Breath of the Wild is long since broken, it’s barely rebuilding and it’s what
makes its soundtrack feel so haunting. It’s a different approach to the typical formula of
audio because the game is a different approach to its mechanics but neither one forgets their
roots but rather they embrace them just in an unconventional way. You will find familiar
landmarks and hear an old melody but it’s not what it once was, it’s broken like this land.
Finding a Fairy fountain is met with a familiar but now desperate plea, like clock town on day
three it has a second more ominous low melody that is almost begging Link to flee while its
high notes cry for his help, the two almost clash with each other as their notes play.
Breath of the Wild’s soundtrack can get a lot of unnecessary flak from the community at large
at times and to an extent I can see why, the sounds can often feel empty but that emptiness
is purposeful. The fields at night can feel lonely when only a few keys of a piano can
be heard but that’s because Link is, for the first time in a long time in the franchise,
alone he is scraping together memories. He has no partner at his beck and call,
all of his friends died a hundred years ago with the calamity. Music only arises when it needs to
Either in the form of the old world trying to make itself known again with the breaking notes
of a piano, or in the sterile sounds of future tech in the shrines. The ideas and foundations
of the series are always there; they've just changed to fit what has now become of Hyrule.
There are way too many songs and even games to cover within the franchise,
it would take a lifetime to examine them all in a way that garners the respect they deserve
but one thing remains persistent whether it’s the haunted melody of the ghosts that inhabit
Ikana playing out in Stone Tower Temple or the non traditional instrumentation for an
orchestral arrangement in Lorule’s overworld theme, there’s a way for everyone to connect
with the music found within the Legend of Zelda and it will always hold a special
place in the hearts of those who played it, tethered to them like a Harp of the Goddess,
or a flute that can uncover the memories of the past. The fact that in the original
Japanese version of the first NES game the Recorder item was called a Flute or Shakuhachi,
an instrument used in Legend that recalls things that happened before the player was born.
What is most impactful about this isn’t its mechanical use
but its musical motif. A quick three second melody
that is charming, but more significantly is used as the main backing melody to the Ocarina of Time
title screen theme. It could be a callback to old fans but I like to see it as a subtle hint
that the way music is used in the series is about to become much more significant. Instruments were
significant in Zelda before this, but starting with Ocarina of Time it’s not only the way you
progress and directly affect the world around you but it’s also how Link connects with friends old
and new. This is also what makes Twilight Princess feel that much more bittersweet. The stones wolf
link learns songs to Howl at a hanging moon are found on what look like tombstones, the graves
of his old incarnations leaving behind their long lasting connection to help him again whenever the
need arises. Even in death their songs persist. Each instrument Link plays or controls reflects
his adventure in the Wind Waker: he is conducting the symphony of the sea, the lost guardians who
once held this land before the flood and passed those duties onto its new denizens. The harp,
an instrument of the angels in Greek mythology, is passed from Link's best friend Zelda,
before being sealed away only to return centuries later as the very instrument Sheik uses to help
him traverse Hyrule once again. Link is a vessel for connection, one that retells new variations
of a legend that started long before him, and music is the threads that tie them all together.