alright so time flies, it's true what they say about it. It's already been a whole year since i last updated the blog. So here's the deal: I'm just putting some thoughts and bits of writing I have had / done in the meantime here for you to read whether you like it or not.

I played the first sims game a ton growing up. Seemingly endless hours of fun supplied to me by placing fireworks indoors and other classic pranks. One thing that really sticks with me though is the soundtrack. All the mischief one got up to in the game was bookended by calming piano music, latin jazz, samba, etc. I have since grown to really love these sounds, years later in life being re-introduced to them by teachers, mentors, friends, and the youtube algorithm late at night. It wasn't until much later that I made the connection that I was first introduced to sounds like these during the countless hours I had spent building virtual houses and trying to find a way to play the game with a family of 8 children with no parents. I didn't really hear music like this growing up by way of it being played around the house by my parents or anything like that, and I wonder if I would have been as receptive to it if that were the case.

Everything exists in its own context, its own cultural time. There's an appeal to making something that "speaks for itself", or "stands on its own", but I don't really think anything really ever does. I am starting to think too that the opposite might be stronger in some way, and allow more freedom for the maker. There have been other instances for me where the context of a piece of art / music does more for the work than it does for itself. After seeing a movie scene play out, the song becomes so engrained in a way it would have had no chance of being on its own. Or in the case of the Sims, I feel my really getting into the sounds of a genre were really helped by the context in which I first heard it. Maybe I am wrong, maybe I would have liked it anyway. It's pleasant on its own, easy to love.

The game Moon RPG is probably the best example I think of for this idea, but it's going to apply to everything in varying degrees. Movies are good too, but video games are special to me and what first came to mind when I initially discussed this idea with a friend. Moon RPG is an interesting game for a lot of reasons and I won't go into detail as far as what the game is about and why it's interesting from a game design perspective; there are a lot of better written articles and videos about that already. I'm really interested in the music aspect. The player can collect songs and discs while they play and listen to them. Already awesome. But there's an enormous amount of music (over 7 hours!). To me, a lot of the music completely transcends what I would expect from video game music, both in the absolute ecstatic nature of it and what it makes me feel. Listen.

It really has it all: obnoxious sax, psuedo-religious chanting, lovely surprise singing, rhythm guitar, spastic solo-ing, congas, and of course the immeasurable whole of all these things together. In what other context could someone assemble a 7 hour album of such variety of style and actually reasonably expect a solid amount of the material to be thoroughly enjoyed and digested? (albeit maybe subconsciously here in the context of playing a game. Though, listening is still listening, whether passive or active.)

Would I really feel compelled to listen to every track of a 7 hour album made from music by bands I have never heard of had it been presented to me as a set of discs, or a massive playlist? Maybe if I was in a really specific mood, but I don't think it would hold my attention like the soundtrack of a unique game does. Not the same way, anyway. The game as a backdrop allowed the music to affect me, the listener, in a new way, a stronger & special way that music on its own would not have been able to. I think that this is also what all the ways of sharing a work try to do, sometimes well, sometimes not. Every signal we shoot out into space - It's always trying to develop a context around something in the hope that it explains our own affection for it to others. Here's some more.