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Final Fantasy X (SSCX-10054~7)
Tracklist
Spoiler:
Recommended: If some stellar tracks are enough for you to overlook the stylistic inconsistency in the first Final Fantasy score not wholly composed by Nobuo Uematsu. Released in 2001, Final Fantasy X was the series’ first game on the new Playstation 2 console, and was in many ways a radical departure from what had come before. The Active Time Battle system which had been used in the previous six installments was abandoned, as were the concepts of a world map and a steerable airship. It was also the first Final Fantasy to feature voice acting, and the first for which the obligatory pop song was not translated into English. Final Fantasy X also saw the beginning of the end of composer Nobuo Uematsu’s tenure: Uematsu would reduce his role in each subsequent game until Final Fantasy XII was composed without him altogether. It may be that his work on Final Fantasy IX, which remains his longest and most complex project to date (over three hundred minutes of music spread over five discs) left him drained, or it may have been his impending departure from Square-Enix to become a freelance musician. In any case, Uematsu recruited fellow composers Masashi Hamauzu and Junya Nakano to aid him. Hamauzu had composed the music for SaGo Frontier 2 several years earlier, and Nakano was a veteran of Threads of Fate; both had been with Square-Enix in one capacity or other since the mid-nineties. Final Fantasy X is far more modernistic than its predecessors, with a far heavier reliance on atmospheric tracks, contemporary keyboarding, and electronica. This may be due to the fact that Nakano and Hamauzu were more comfortable with this style, or perhaps it’s Uematsu’s reaction to the game’s more technological milieu. In either case, the sweeping, quasi-renaissance sound of IX is nowhere to be found. Uematsu does retain his leitmotif structure, but it’s a pale shadow of its former self--most of the character themes are one-offs, with no later variations (with one exception: “Seymour’s Theme” has far too many variations). Still, some of the themes, like “Auron’s Theme,” with its jagged piano and electronic beats, and “Yuna’s Theme,” which combines light electric guitar and concert bells, are among Uematsu’s best cues. Uematsu does give the game a remarkable main theme. First heard as a melancholy piano solo in “To Zanarkand,” the theme is far sadder than Uematsu’s usual fare, even when the melody appears in the buoyant “Sprouting.” The theme is also memorably present in the “Ending Theme,” but despite the melody’s strength, neither Hamauzu nor Nakano attempts a variation. The subtheme for the mysterious “fayth” is far less effective--a weak Gregorian-style choral chant, the theme is repeated eleven (!) times with minimal variation. Junya Nakano composed seventeen of the ninety-one tracks, and collaborated with Uematsu on two more. His tracks have a strong contemporary feel, which is used to good effect in the minimalistic “Luca” and “Illusion” but fares less well elsewhere, especially in the limp “Underground Activities” and “Underwater Temple.” Nakano is more successful with battle themes, contributing the impressive “Enemy Attack” and “Summoned Beast Battle,” the latter of which is the only effective interpretation of the “fayth” theme. Masashi Hamauzu’s contributions are similar, with a modern slant that doesn’t quite gel with Uemastu’s material. Hamauzu’s skills as a piano arranger are well-known, and he puts them to good use in the whimsical “Thunder Plains,” the highlight of his contribution, and the aggressive, tuneful “Attack.” There are some misfires, though; Hamauzu’s “Decisive Battle” is a laughable piano rhapsody that is completely out of place as a battle theme. His “Challenge” battle theme is similarly weak--essentially a collection of random, distorted noise and repetitive techno loops. The composer is able to write some effective minimalistic music, though: the calm “Besaid Island” and New Agey “Wandering Flame” are both highly effective. The album also includes several songs, the what-were-they-thinking “Otherworld,” a completely out of place death metal tune, and “Sudeki Da Ne,” the most banal pop song to be attached to any Final Fantasy album thus far. But the album’s real problem is its lack of stylistic consistency--the multiple composers led to a wandering focus and many watered-down and dull (or even inappropriate) tracks. Without a single strong style to hold the disparate music together, Final Fantasy X is just a collection of vaguely-related songs, some of which are strong but few of which contribute to any cohesion. As a result, Final Fantasy X was at the time of its release the weakest Final Fantasy album, though it has since been eclipsed. Though there is a good deal of quality material, the album’s incoherence should make listeners think twice before ordering an expensive import copy. Rating (out of *****) Uematsu: **** Hamauzu: *** Nakano: *** Overall: *** Jam it back in, in the dark.
Last edited by orion_mk3; Nov 11, 2006 at 01:28 PM.
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