 | Album Title: Grandia Original Soundtracks |
| Record Label: Two Five Records | |
| Catalog No.: KICA-5002/3 | |
| Release Date: December 22, 1997 | |
| Purchase: Buy Used Copy |
Overview
Grandia is one of the earlier works of Noriyuki Iwadare’s career, developed in 1997 with Game Arts and published by Kings Records. Grandia, as a game, contained all the traditional elements of an RPG, but it wasn’t particularly groundbreaking. As a result, this soundtrack also didn’t receive the same type of hype and glamour as other VGM soundtracks. If you’ve had a bad hangover experience with the superficial themes of Radiata Stories, don’t let that hinder your expectations of this soundtrack. I thought my initial indifference to Radiata Stories was because I didn’t understand Iwadare’s earlier works. However, after listening to Grandia, I realize how its style and structure was vastly different from Radiata Stories. If you compare Grandia to Radiata Stories, the musical progressions of ideas on the former are wholesome and interwoven so much tighter than the latter. Most of the tracks on the Radiata Stories album never lasted beyond one minute and were just about as useful as sound-clip advertisements. Iwadare was able to blend several diverse themes on each track and avoided the pitfalls of repetition.
This soundtrack is two discs: one of synthesized tracks and the other of orchestrated tracks. Disc One is at its best in demonstrating Iwadare’s ability to transition from theme to theme on the same track to create a unique piece of music. This disc contains all of the symphonic themes of the game. The themes range from bright sunny fields (“Delightful Adventure”) and whimsical characters (“Leena’s Theme” and “Farewell Sue”) to more serious or darker themes (“Ghost Ship” and “Approaching Crisis”). He can change the mood of a track in a remarkable way so that it isn’t disjointed or fragmented. Most of Disc Two relies heavily on electronica and atmosphere to control the tone. It is obviously weaker compared to Disc One in terms of instrumentation, but several pieces—such as “Stand on Alone” and “Sea Cat Restaurant”—hold their own in being addictive.
Body
The adventure themes come to mind first, so I’ll discuss them first. The disc starts out with “Theme of Grandia,” which reminds me of the grandeur style of “Legendary Sword” from Radiata Stories, but more mature. The strings move rapidly with the drums in the background initially, and then the brass takes over. One excellent feature of this track is that it changes from section to section subtly, without being abrupt. As a result, this track is delivered coherently without sounding repetitious or monotonous. At 1:37, the pace slows, but it doesn’t distract you from the main motif. It conveys the paramount feeling of being at the top of the world, unstoppable. At 3:15, the electric guitar joins the fray to provide extra edge and melodic power in the track. Iwadare continues with “Delightful Adventure,” where you’ll hear the strings, brass, percussion, and clarinet working together very nicely as an uplifting and jazzy fanfare track. It’s sumptuous, addictive, and exhilarating to the ears as what an adventure or overworld theme would sound like for an RPG. The addition of wood-block mallets, woodwinds, and a harp crescendo gives that extra zany feeling that distinguishes it from a normal jazz piece. Then the piano enters at 1:55 for a more pensive section. With all this thick, swirling instrumentation, you’d think the track would sound too busy, but instead they work together like a pair of shoes side by side. Then Iwadare tries to sweep you off your feet with the thrilling military track “Mullen.” You first hear a steadily moving solo cello, and later the entire string section carries the main melody in the first half. The flute plays sixteenth notes like a march, while the string and underlying brass movement maintain the track’s triumphant statement.
There are a few romantic and sorrowful moments in the disc such as “Farewell Sue” when you hear the solemn quartet of piano, flute, violin, and oboe. This calm track is executed extremely well and doesn’t stray from its sense of direction. At 1:11, the oboe enters, and at 2:18 the violin completes the full reprise of this pensive theme. The sentimental piece “The Sandy Beach of Ganbo” is rendered well with a violin-and-piano duet. This track almost seems from a movie drama and is one of my favorite pieces on the album. At 3:15, the piano moves into a different section, seemingly gloomier than before. There’s so much chord variation that it doesn’t sound too minimalist even with just two instruments. Later, a lighter track appears in “The Beautiful Woman of Alent.” The female synth choir imbues a pure, bright image, while the chiming of the electronic keyboard provides the acoustic effect. This piece may have been done almost too carefully, because nothing particularly stands out. Although most could argue this theme is quite antique or generic, it suffices for the designated scene. Perhaps the greatest highlight of this group is “Leen’s Love Theme.” The harp and flute seem to dictate the harmony of the song with a very elegant tone that matches “Farewell Sue.” The duet of flute and clarinet musical cue reminds me a lot of “Across the Stars” from Star Wars Episode II — a simple yet stunning piece of music. After the clarinet crescendo, the strings swing the melody in pendulum fashion between exasperation and optimism. This piece is sentimental, but it mixes that sentiment with the right balance of emotion. At 2:50, you’ll hear piano, strings, and chimes paint a brighter environment, slightly contrasting with the beginning of the piece.
The next set of themes are outliers from the previous two categories. The bassoon of “Ancient Illusionary Castle” initiates the funny, clumsy, waltz-like tune with snapping fingers in the background. Again, Iwadare demonstrates how he masters the technique of musical transition when the track takes a turn toward a bolder brass treatment at 1:05 and then goes into its climax at 1:27. It sounds mischievous and reminds me of Gogo’s theme from Final Fantasy VI. Then at 1:40, a bounciness emphasized by the woodwinds and strings is reminiscent of his Lunar series. As I said before, each track on Disc One is filled with so many colorful ideas that you’ll never feel it’s monotonous. “Ghost Ship” is a sly piece that turns into a noble and gut-wrenching climax when the brass plays a small rendition of “The Edge of the World.” It falls back into background music at 2:13, with a woodwind ostinato. Iwadare effectively balances the ambience with some bright moments to make this a contemplative track. “The Edge of the World” is a heroic and epic theme blended with a facet of mysticism. This track evokes a bleak situation, but at the same time radiates a sense of hope. At 2:24, you’ll hear a brass movement along with snazzy snare drums that bring life to the track. The woodwinds play smoothly from one chord to another in a very coherent section. Iwadare concentrates on his ideas with force and passion from one section to the next on this track. Then you have the harsh and abrupt “Approaching Crisis,” which relies on drums and trumpet fortissimos. This track doesn’t seem to know where it wants to lead the listener and conveys only massive confusion. Not necessarily a bad track, but it fails to be memorable.
Moving to Disc Two, I’ll begin discussing the successfully executed electronic tracks that are noteworthy and imaginative. Iwadare displays a faint amount of Scottish and ethnic diversity with “Prelude,” featuring sharp, loud electronic bagpipes. This is an ominous, atmospheric, and potent track. There’s an almost sinister, dark, cerebral tone if you listen carefully. I felt this piece was unfinished and too short to be fully analyzed. In “Town of Palm,” you’ll hear quirky electronic bagpipes in the same fashion as “Prelude,” but not as overbearing. The diversity of percussion is the main highlight of this upbeat piece. Tin cans and other metal objects clank off each other as if you’re walking into a bustling metal workshop. Some musical inspiration from this track later appears in the tropical tone of “Hopping Sun” from Radiata Stories. “New Parm ~Frontier of Our Hearts~” is essentially a derivation of “Town of Palm,” but with an electronic accordion. The motivation is the same, but the clarinet, bongos, and cowbell at 2:10 spice up the track, giving it a ragtime (almost polka-like) groove. “Kafu Village” serves as typical background music, but thankfully the trumpets and zany Jamaican drums tie up the loose ends of this uneven track so it doesn’t lose your interest.
The electronic keyboard, pan flute, and alto saxophone in “Stand and Rise” are used well to pump flowing energy to the listener. But what really boils me is when nonsensical verbiage that doesn’t provide musical support is inserted into a track. The man howling in the back reminds me of the terrible shout from “Ceremony of Gods” in the Final Fantasy IX soundtrack. But the pristine construction of the track makes this forgivable. Sadly, if Iwadare had included more pieces like “Stand and Rise” on this disc, he wouldn’t have needed wasted tracks such as “Daito Town” and “Jilpadon.” Next is “Sea Cat Restaurant,” which is a cute synth theme that relies heavily on the harpsichord and keyboard. This bizarre piece stutters later on into a corny rhyme that makes the environment even more amusing. Nonetheless, it was an eccentric track that jumped right out at me with an unorthodox manipulation of synthesizers and xylophones. At 1:14, Iwadare tries to fancy up the piece by vamping up the synthesizer speed. As much as Disc Two is supposed to be the synthesizer half of Grandia, there are a couple of tracks I felt should have been left on Disc One. “Duel with Godwin” is perhaps misplaced; it should have been left on the orchestrated disc because of its authentic instrumentation. It’s a mellow western-music flick that combines the Huaca (multiple-chambered pan-cultural vessel flute) and banjo. Later, the majestic trumpet plays a solo that brings nostalgic memories of Uematsu’s “Shadow’s Theme” in Final Fantasy VI, but with a much bolder, more assertive touch. It almost makes you envision a showdown between two gunslingers at high noon. Then you have “Snow Town Raynu,” which immediately caught my attention with its steady cello riff and glockenspiel. The combination of French horns refines the dreamy state of this European dance track. It’s one of the catchier tracks on Disc Two when you consider how much ambient music is present on this disc.
However, after you get past these themes, everything else on this disc seems to go south from here. “Sart Ruins” seems to be more of a filler piece, as it starts out with techno beats while the timid flute plays aimlessly in the desolate setting. I felt the instrumentation was inappropriate, because the harmonica would probably have provided a better accompaniment to the techno beats. The same tin noise from “Town of Palm” is reused, but its magic is gone. There are a couple of mandatory but nuisance themes in the soundtrack, such as “Daito Town,” which reminds me of the hideous “Magical World” and “Town of Deception” in Radiata Stories. The Indian-tribe drums, percussion, and gongs can bore even the most patient listeners to sleep. This type of theme has been beaten to death like no other in game music. “Prayers of Ganbo” follows in the same ambient trend with tribal outcries and that chilling marimba that gets into your skin. When I heard the aggressive tribal sounds, it was almost like a war cry rather than a prayer. The erratic chords can grate your nerves after a while, but thankfully it’s short. The sharp-pitched electronica and techno beats in “Twin Tower” drone into an uninspiring six-minute electronic cacophony like a cartoon theme. Equally lacking in development is “Jilpadon”; it hangs on the repetitive electronic accordion and synthesizers in a failed attempt to blend the chord structure of “Town of Palm” with “Daito Town.” Lastly, “Domu Ruins” is a sporadic electronica-driven piece that tries to fuse a harpsichord with a techno background.
Summary
It was hard for me to offer any criticism of Disc One because every track seems to complement the others so well. Each track on the first disc, metaphorically speaking, brings splendid musical ideas without being overcomplex or confusing. Disc One left me speechless because each track contained so much depth and no filler material. But as I listened to Disc Two, I noticed several weaknesses in Iwadare’s experimentation with synthesizers. Even though there were some pieces that demonstrated moments of brilliance such as “Stand and Rise” and “Town of Palm,” they still appear quite mediocre in comparison to the solid tracks of Disc One. There are a couple of stinkers, such as “Daito Town” and “Doma Ruins,” in which Iwadare abuses his electronica chords like whipping a horse to death. It’s such a shame that these two pieces ruined the album’s overall quality, which would otherwise have made this album nearly flawless. These tracks foreshadow his later experimental problems with Radiata Stories because of the lack of movement and ideas. However, unlike Radiata Stories, Iwadare never tries to recycle any material in Grandia, only constructing themes on top of one another. The redeeming factor of this soundtrack is truly Disc One, where Iwadare’s orchestration shines at its best. For example, even an ambient track like “Ghost Ship” can sound like filler for the first minute, but quickly transitions into a splendid woodwind cue.
Overall, this is one of the more appreciable and important albums of Iwadare for me because it contains all the crucial elements for a game music album. If you’re interested in listening to game music that falls in the category of symphonic and orchestral, you should give this classic soundtrack a try. Iwadare should guide himself back to his origins because this is where he’s able to fully excel and innovate.
