Until now…

Well, OK, not really. Much of the thanks for this goes to ottocycle who did the heavy lifting translating Hiroyuki Sawano’s thoughts when he composed Guilty Crown’s soundtrack. So without further ado, here’s Sawano on Guilty Crown after the jump!

Amongst all the music works I have been involved in so far, this production is the one which features the most vocal tracks. I have considered creating a work of this nature from time to time in the past as well. One reason I’d say that I got the offer was that the director happened to like the material from my original album “musica”, which happened to have quite a few vocal tracks featured…(haha) Back then I also remember the producer of the anime giving me free rein to do what I like with this, so voila! What a convenient explanation!

As you can probably tell, some parts of the above were more in jest than anything else.

Moving on, as this was a production whose concept and content translates into many different possible musical approaches which could be experimented with, I decided on converting thematic tunes into what I feel matches the sound of “song”, as one of my foci in this particular work.

As a result, I can say that, this soundtrack feels like one which I have expressed the most naturally, and the feeling might’ve been similar to that when I was making my original album.

I’ve also had the opportunity to make rearrangements of vocal tracks found on this album which can be found in the limited edition home video bundles. The production team had generously afforded the musicians and me to revisit the tunes again, and it felt so happy, yet extravagant to have been able to do so.

While the OST CD versions of the respective (rearranged) songs were recorded before their alternate versions, it is up to the listener to decide which one is the main version, since both turned out convincingly satisfying. With all said and done, these are my thoughts right after working on either version, so hopefully you would not place either one on a pedestal before comparing them both (haha).

By: Sawano Hiroyuki (originally in Japanese, in the Guilty Crown OST CD sleeve)

Brief thoughts: I haven’t listened to Guilty Crown’s OST all that closely, but I can say that the number of vocal tracks on this album was a surprise, but not unwelcome as most of the artists’ performances were solid and I look forward to hearing the arrangements of those tracks should copies of those ever come forth. The BGM is also enjoyable for those who’ve found themselves enthralled by Sawano’s previous scores; he doesn’t stray too far from the bombastic blend of orchestra and electronica that has become his signature for quite some time. All in all, the stellar work that comes forth from Guilty Crown’s soundtrack should be a treat (one that doesn’t deserve an anime as flawed as Guilty Crown) and if nothing else, effectively cements his status as the Japanese Hans Zimmer (AKA the guy who scored the music to the movies Inception and Gladiator, to name a few).

Tracklist

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Review: Even though he was responsible for portions of the fantastic score to the popular anime Death Note, Yoshihisa Hirano has remained a relatively obscure composer amongst the anime fanbase. This doesn’t come as a great surprise especially when you consider how his classically influenced, chaotic style of writing makes for music that’s a little hard on the casual listener. Of course, that doesn’t mean it’s impossible to start enjoying his music. For Himitsu  ~The Revelation~, the show’s subject matter and Hirano’s style complement each other well, resulting in a soundtrack that makes it much easier to appreciate what Hirano can do.

HtR is a mystery series that follows a team of investigators as they crack cases on an episode to episode basis. While I checked Wiki to make sure that the above description is accurate, one could have easily figured out as much about the show from listening to the soundtrack. Right off the bat, the first track, “The Number Nines,” shoves the setting in the listener’s face. The intro executes perfectly with a sequence of tension-building rising notes only to precipitously crash into the main theme, a melody that brings to mind gunfights and car chases. Out of all the music I’ve heard in my lifetime, this is my favorite musical representation of a high speed crime chase. Another rendition of this theme can be heard in the accurately-named “Chase,” albeit with a ridiculously badass guitar solo inserted. Whichever of the two you prefer, just don’t listen to them while driving or you’ll probably end up speeding and being pursued yourself.

The Number Nines

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There are also plenty of suspense tracks that populate the album, presumably to build up tension before breaking out the action. In these, one can hear Hirano’s signature penchant for dissonance, resulting in music far more unsettling than what most soundtracks offer. “Chaos” and “Darkness” both use plenty of discordant chords, the first opting for eerily-rising woodwinds and the second for muted bagpipes that seem ominously distant. “Unseen Criminals” reminded me a little of the famous Jaws motif, with low strings chugging relentlessly onwards while chaotic noises punctuate the approach sporadically. None of these are quite as unearthly as “In the Realm of Memories”, which features one woman singing notes you might hear from a Halloween decoration. While these and others like them are all entertaining to listen to (especially if you like being creeped out), these suspense pieces begin to become repetitive once the novelty of the dissonance wears off.  It’s an unfortunate drawback, but probably the only one that really comes to mind in this album.

Chaos

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Of course, the tension and action in the field is but a small part of what actually goes on in an investigation unit. Most of the time is spent gathering and brooding over evidence. If all the thoughts flying around a busy mind were instruments, a thinking detective would probably emit something that sounds like “Maki”. In the track, multitudes of different instruments speak up, sometimes alone as individual notions and sometimes together in a united motif. I’ve always liked listening to it because this aural representation of a thinking mind is exceptionally accurate. “Investigation” uses a similar technique, except instead of creating a busy office-like atmosphere, it creates a hectic crime-scene-with-a-dead-body atmosphere by throwing in an electric guitar and a harsher beat.

Investigation

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At this point, it probably seems like the whole HtR soundtrack means nothing but business, and grim business at that. However, that’s not the case since Hirano gives the listener a surprising number of buoyant tracks to break up the dark atmosphere. “The Elite’s Restless Works” is a whimsical piece — while the melody comes off as playful, it is also very, very eccentric. Nevertheless, this eccentricity is oddly endearing and the track is very much an earworm. I was even more surprised to find a flamenco in “The Elite”. It was a very welcome surprise though, as the track packs plenty of over-the-top fun, offering both guitar and violin solos as things energetically whirl along.  And finally, since drunken woodwinds and fiery dances apparently aren’t already enough, Hirano throws us something cute. “Cutie Pie” is exactly what it sounds like: a delightfully dainty little piece whose charming melody is a far cry from the darker regions of the soundtrack.

The Elite’s Restless Works

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And last but certainly not least: the emotional stuff which no soundtrack can do without. It’s only natural that a heavy load of emotional baggage results when your job deals with murderers and dead people. The main theme is recapped again in “For Your Eyes Only”. However, it moves nowhere near as fast it originally did; there’s an overwhelmingly morose feeling in every note, weighing this formerly invigorated theme down with sorrow. It’s almost unbelievable that the theme here is the exact same one which kicked off the album because of how different everything sounds. Finally, the last track, “Sweet Memories”, isn’t quite depressed, but it also doesn’t shake off the sense of melancholy introduced in “For Your Eyes Only”. Still, the operatic voice which makes its entrance halfway through is a shining ray of hope for those working in a grim and unrelenting field.

For Your Eyes Only

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Sweet Memories

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In all honestly, even if everything except the main theme was awful, I would have rated this album well just because of how awesome “The Number Nines” and “Chase” are. More seriously, I’d say that the only drawback would be the large amount of dissonant tracks that pile up without adding anything new to the experience. Nevertheless, that doesn’t ruin the overwhelmingly positive overall experience Himitsu the Revelation’s soundtrack offers up. My hope, then, is that his efforts here are sufficient to tilt you more towards Yoshihisa Hirano’s generally excellent scores and get you to delve deeper into his other works.

Rating: Excellent

Tracklist

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Review: Seirei no Moribito, which came out in 2007, has always struck me as an under-appreciated series. It’s got beautiful art, an engaging story, interesting characters and, of course, a gorgeous soundtrack. Composer Kenji Kawai’s resume is long and varied and he brings his A game to this series. It stands out as one of my favourite soundtracks and fits the series extremely well.

The plot of the series centres around Balsa, the spear-wielder, who is tasked with protecting the young Prince Chagum from his own father’s assassins. The emperor fears that Chagum is somehow connected to a spirit that will bring a great drought upon the land and must be killed. Balsa promises to protect him as she seeks to understand what the spirit within Chagum really is using ancient knowledge and folklore.

The folk aspect is a key element in the series, with conflict arising through the different approaches of the traditional, indigenous peoples and the empire guided by the star diviners. As Balsa wanders into this part of the world, Kawai immediately establishes the folk style of the soundtrack by introducing the series’ main theme in “Omoi Haruka”. It’s a soft flowing melody led by the strings and flute with subtle percussion in the background that brings out a relaxed and comfortable atmosphere.

Omoi Haruka

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Several other tracks on the soundtrack echo this style, but each is unique and adds an element of hope or uncertainty to the melodies to allow them to fit extremely well with the cultural landscape of the Seirei no Moribito world. In fact, at least a dozen of the 28 tracks are in this general style. Another great example is the relaxing “Kizuna” which allows the melody to be carried upon a soft flute’s lines, conjuring up images of a calm summer afternoon.

Kizuna

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As the characters get closer to their grim, mystical fate, the music follows suit, descending into a foreboding, eerie atmosphere, peppered with quick, repeating patterns of 16th notes in the violin and anchored by an almost wailing soprano like the one featured in “Miezaru Kyoui”. There, Kawai opts for a three beat rhythm to add intensity and make the piece feel unnatural, reflecting the story’s supernatural elements. This contrasts with “Jujutsu Shi no Kaikai”, the music of the shamans, which mirrors the almost wailing vocals, but this time the vocals center on a deep baritone voice which moves at a much slower pace. Only the heavy, steady drum beats provide accompaniment, creating a sense of deep thought or meditation.

Miezaru Kyoui

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Jujutsu Shi no Haikai

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And if Balsa’s struggle to find the answers to her many questions about the mysterious spirit isn’t enough, she and Chagum must contend with the Emperor’s assassins. For these sequences, Kawai provides us with a selection of more intense pieces to reflect the rising tension. These tracks convey the urgency of the situation and instil a sense of the importance of the battle being fought. A strong drum beat leads the way in “Eiyuu, Tatsu”, with a quick-paced violin building the main melody. The choral backing makes it all feel more epic, but it never steals the spotlight of the piece from the melody. Although, this particular track unfortunately didn’t see much use in the actual series, it is still a good listen.

Eiyuu, Tatsu

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When the threat is imminent, the music kicks it up another notch, yielding “Balsa Hashiru”. This theme builds on the intense drum-beat and urgent violins from the other tracks and combines them into a piece that doesn’t mess around. There’s no choral backing here; it’s just a powerful theme that reflects Balsa herself – strong yet graceful.

Balsa Hashiru

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The soundtrack caps off with a vocal version of the series’ main theme, which carries with it a sense of hope and continuance, led once again by the violin and flute combination of the leading track. The chorus also works it’s magic here, with a delivery strong enough to carry the melody without sounding too artificial. I could have easily been fooled into thinking this was a traditional Japanese folk song, which illustrates the excellence of Kawai’s work.

Overall the soundtrack for Seirei no Moribito provides exactly the right atmosphere to reflect the mystical and cultural elements in the story. Most of the tracks, even the battle music, remain very melodic, though there are a few tracks that simply serve to create an atmosphere and are not as interesting to listen to on their own. The “wailing” songs can also be a bit jarring when not heard in the right context. Nevertheless, this is a solid soundtrack that I will often put on as background music. The folk style themes are a pleasure to listen to and stand well on their own. The fact that they remind me of an awesome anime series is just a bonus.

Rating: Very Good

Tracklist

[[Visit blog to check out this spoiler]]

Review: If I wanted to look for a well-arranged and emotional instrumental soundtrack, Astarotte no Omocha would probably be the last place I look. I picked up this show on a whim, probably because I’ve been spoiling myself in recent seasons by favoring action and dramatic shows over lolicon fanservice. Thus, you can imagine that, to my surprise, a soundtrack of White Album’s caliber seems to have gotten lost and ended up in this show.

Twinpower is a rather unknown composer — I tried doing research on them but Astarotte no Omocha is apparently the only anime they have ever worked on. Regardless, it’s filled to the brim with nice, sweet-sounding piano and violin melodies. The soundtrack played a huge role in improving the show. I expected ecchi fanservice, but with the writing and soundtrack, I got a show that was surprisingly well developed and entertaining. Again and again, cookie-cutter scenes that would be unbearably cliche and cheesy were rescued by the beautiful soundtrack. Oh, the amazing things that happen when you set your expectations low and when there’s a great soundtrack involved.

It’s going to be the special

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“It’s Going to be The Special” is the signature track of the series. A beautiful and moving violin ballad, this melody made all the difference in several emotional scenes in the show. The sweet sonorous sounds of the violin makes this theme stand out, turning this track from background music into an preeminent part of the anime.

All of you

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The regal and sophisticated tones in Astarotte no Omocha!‘s soundtrack  may seem oddly out of place, but upon closer inspection, the soundtrack works nearly perfectly. After all, Lotte is the princess of the land, and the little bit of magic and playful air in the soundtrack fits many aspects of the show. I like the harpsichord backing in “All of You” because it adds a significant amount of depth to the violin theme.

The Place Can’t be Lost

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“The Place Can’t be Lost” starts as a slow, deliberate, and atmospheric track. It has a mystical feeling that’s associated with sneaking around at night that could be used as a slower track in say, The Polar Express or The Nightmare Before Christmas. The delicate melody then transforms into an elegant and grand instrumental theme.

First love

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I have a soft spot for “First Love”– it’s probably my favorite track on the entire album. The tender and playful violin and piano instrumentals effortlessly reflects the title of the song; both instruments match and accompany each other like lovers following each other around. The piano is played beautifully — you can feel the emotion being put into the keys, making for a delicate yet graceful piece that is perfectly executed.

A Day

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The Astarotte no Omocha! Original Soundtrack is catchy and great for listening yet is elegantly mild. Like any soundtrack, there are some songs that are a bit heavy and meant to establish a specific mood, but there are plenty of lighter fare. Take, for example, “A Day”, a slow, yet tightly composed and rustic theme. It effectively highlights the refrained simplicity of the soundtrack as a whole, with most tracks using only 2 or 3 instruments. However simple it may be, the soundtrack is complete; several leitmotifs and developed themes run though the album, and the tracks are designed to support the anime.

TV versions of the OP and ED are included in the soundtrack as well, and they have good synergy with the soundtrack proper. The OP, titled “Tenshi no Clover” and sung by Aimi is upbeat and relatively brisk. Though it doesn’t have too much going for it, it’s still pretty nice on the ears. Azusa sings the ED, “Manatsu no Photograph”, a song that I really like a lot. It’s cute, emotional, and has a beautiful arrangement to go with Azusa’s beautiful vocals. The lyrics are nice and the song simply sounds great. Also included is an insert song by the two lead seiyuu, Kugimiya Rie and Tamura Yukari, which is bubbly and cute.

Without a doubt, Astarotte no Omocha would be less of a show without its soundtrack. It gives the show that pathos that releases some of the preconceived notions viewers may have of the show. It’s regrettable that I had to skip over featuring some tracks for the sake of space, but I definitely recommend checking the soundtrack (and the anime!) out.

Rating: Very Good

Tracklist

[[Visit blog to check out this spoiler]]

Review: As I sit here and watch Usagi Drop (as of this writing, I’m only about halfway through), I’m struck by the show’s many simplicities. There’s the simplicity of the premise, which sees a man in his early 30s, Daikichi, take in a young relative of his and the life-changing events that result from it. There the seeming simplicity in its art which uses a soft color palette to give us the feel that what we’re watching is an ephemeral snapshot to be savored. And there’s the simplicity of the soundtrack, which features soft acoustic guitars, soothing woodwinds, and bouncy piano melodies that never feel hurried as they echo life’s meanderings. All of these components join together in a way that – yes – simply works. Though there are a few moments where the soundtrack dispenses with a few unmemorable moments, for the most part, Usagi Drop’s music wraps all the character and emotional moments together in a package that leaves you with a warm glow in your heart as you watch the bond between Daikichi and his ward, Rin, grow.

The heartwarming emotion that bubbles up through Suguru Matsutani’s compositions are present from the beginning and carries itself throughout the rest of the soundtrack. With “Otozureta Henka,” Matsutani uses a combination of the acoustic guitar and piano to lightly brush us with a gentle wave that soothes and calms as the melody wanders about. A minute in, there’s a shift from the uncertain meanderings to a touch of loneliness fused with a childlike innocence to depict Rin. But the track succeeds in getting her story across. It establishes her circumstances and ends strongly and compassionately as Daikichi makes the decision to take in his six-year old relative. The violins give off a sigh, and their new life begins.

Otozureta Henka

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Many of the successive tracks reinforce this newness and most of it comes through quieter tones. “Hitori no Onnanoko” starts with a glimmer of lightness as the piano and violin conjures the anticipation the characters have for their new lives now filled with endless possibilities. As the piece proceeds, the woodwinds, from the flute and oboe to the clarinet, fill the air with a feeling of quiet contentment. Though it feels fleeting at times, the piece subtly wins your heart in a way not unlike how Rin wins Daikichi over, and Matsutani really works the dominant motif in this track and carries it to other tracks on this album to show the many sides of their relationship. In “Wakare 2″ the piano echoes the tenderness as well as a hint of loneliness and hope, but the theme’s rendition in “Soudan” departs from the more melancholy tones with a charming track that exhibits a spunky aura through a staccato delivery as each subsequent note hops about in a spritely manner.

Soudan

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This upbeatness materializes further in many of the album’s other tracks. “Asa Gohan,” as expected out of that track title, rouses you out of “Ketsui’s” melancholia through the harmonica and guitar’s combined effort while “Yokorobi’s” energy is absolutely infectious as it joins synth and guitar into a laid-back track that has a dab of euphoria. “Odekake,” while also laid back, uses the synth, harmonica, and acoustic guitar’s ability to weave a pleasing aural fabric that raises the excitement level just a bit further to where the track bubbles with a subtle sense of exuberance.

Yokorobi

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There are moments of sadness, delivered through “Gimon’s” monotonous ambiance or “Urei’s” slower arrangement of the serene “Kouki Mama” to depict Kouki’s mother’s loneliness, but the heartwarming tracks are where the album shines. Of those, nothing quite matches up to “Koigokoro,” where the three-beat measures flow out gently and serenely, bringing with it the quiet sense of joys to be had. Although simple, the steady gait with which it moves leads you towards a state of stability and happiness. “Shiawase” takes this mood a bit further and “Fureai” ends it all on a good note, leaving you at peace and feeling optimistic.

Koigokoro

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Fureai

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Finally, I must profess to enjoying whenever composers take opening or ending themes and set them to piano. While “SWEET DROPS” feels like a standard piano arrangement that doesn’t quite stretch the envelope in its adherence to the original, “High High High,” the ending theme, easily wins me over. Its relaxing, mellow pace, combined with the piano passages with the occasional syncopated measures allow it to give off a stylistically different vibe from the rest of the score, making it a fun listen.

High High High -piano version-

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In Usagi Drop, Suguru Matsutani has come a long way from his earlier effort on Nodame Cantabile’s soundtrack. While the latter is made up of snippets that never ingrain themselves in your consciousness, the heartwarming aura that radiates from the former will forever carry the day. These sentiments that effortlessly worm their way into your soul is what makes all the difference, as the lingering feelings of joy and comfort invite you to listen and savor all that it has to offer.

Rating: Good

Tracklist

[[Visit blog to check out this spoiler]]

Review: To get into the ‘spirit’ of things for Halloween, Anime Instrumentality proudly presents yet another holiday special. In a season iconically represented by ghosts and other supernatural beings delivering a frightful experience, there is nothing like a healthy dose of Mononoke to raise hairs and send chills down the spine. Best of all, you won’t need to feel silly about it afterwards.

Instead of going with the standard convention of listening to tales of witches and goblins, we shall listen to the tales of Mononoke, all weaved together beautifully through what is easily Yasuharu Takanashi’s greatest work thus far. This story begins not with Bulwer-Lytton’s ‘dark and stormy night’, but the taiko and koto situated amidst an uneasy serenity, which are later joined by the harpsichord and the haunting vocals to set up Mononoke’s premise. Although the entry of the shakuhachi brings in the feeling of loss, the track stays true to the anime’s placid approach and avoids dramatic or extensive displays of emotions.

Oboroge

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After the short prelude, we are immediately drawn into the heart of the action, with a fast-paced track which combines Japanese flutes, vocals, violins and low brass, all of which is set to a strong and relentless drumbeat. The ponderous sound that results ratchets the tension by quite a bit as it highlights the dangerous and unforgiving task of exorcisms.

Mononoke

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While the first two tracks perfectly represent Mononoke as a whole, the later tracks delve deeper into the show’s subtleties. “Ononoki” tells of the formation of an ayakashi, starting with a loneliness which transforms into a heart-wrenching sense of anguish once the vocals come in, before the desire for vengeance takes over. The way the track builds up to incorporate the shakuhachi, voice and percussions one by one draws out those many different sentiments, making it the most evocative track on the album. “Samishige”, on the other hand, moves towards more peaceful, if melancholic waters, as this requiem leads a spirit to its salvation. “Isamashige” is a return to action as it embodies the battle against the spirits. Its rapid progression and frenetic melody played by the nohkan masterfully depicts the warped realm of the supernatural.

Isamashige

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Takanashi also brings his musically evocative powers to the fore through “Ayashige”, which conjures an image of spirits frolicking at a festival, showcasing Takanashi’s dexterity with Japanese instruments as he composes a piece consisting solely of taikos and kagura suzu. Also of note is “Abunage”, which illustrates the thick fog of deception the Medicine Seller has to pass through in order to arrive at the truth. The light tapping of the shime-daiko amidst the heavy, punctuated beats symbolises him connecting the dots while still being thwarted by the many obstacles in his way.

Abunage

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Ending off the album, “Utsurigi” closely mirrors the melody and instrumentation of the first track, “Oboroge”, but the note of finality presented through the violin segment marks an end to the tales of Mononoke.

Utsurigi

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The traditional Japanese instruments and composition effectively bring out the unique flavour in these tales, but unlike other soundtracks which serve to accompany the anime, Mononoke’s OST tells its own stories in parallel with those in the anime. The more you listen, the more you unravel them, and despite the air of dignified impassivity it maintains, the emotional weight of these tales will hit you. All these truly puts Mononoke in a class of its own, and a masterpiece in every right.

Rating: Masterpiece

Tracklist

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Review: The opening notes of “So Ra So Mi” ooze absolute contentment. Its tempo moves at a languid pace, wafting a pleasant, dreamy aura through a repetitive motif carried first by the clarinet, then the violin, to evoke an image of a more idyllic era. Never too fast nor too slow, it channels a mellow sound which works well to immerse us in a charming atmosphere as the piece fittingly depicts the relaxed pace of life on display in Ikoku Meiro no Croisee.

So Ra So Mi

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Ko-ko-ya, the group responsible for Ikoku Meiro no Croisee’s soundtrack is no stranger to the realm of anime soundtracks, especially in sculpting that image of an idealistic, romanticized Europe. Their members are talented, including the likes of violinist Yuki Etoh and clarinetist Saeko Kurokawa, but the biggest influence by far comes from the Choro Club’s Shigeharo Sasago. With Sasago’s involvement, the ARIA-esque sound makes a wonderful return as Croisee’s music ebbs, flows, and ripples forth serenely and wonderfully. Ko-ko-ya’s prior work on Ristorante Paradiso’s soundtrack captures this unhurried ARIA-esque atmosphere nicely but I daresay that Croisee’s OST takes that earlier effort and does it one better.

Croisee’s soundtrack beats Ristorante Paradiso’s largely through the slew of emotions on display, bringing with it a greater level of variety to keep the listening experience fresh. Its melodies follow the gamut of emotions Yune feels as she adjusts to her new life in Paris. The mood that follows from “So Ra So Mi” is one of excitement, brought about by “Hanasaku Machi wo Waltz” which exudes the joys and thrills to be had in discovery. Its spritely, animated melody imparts the sort of childish curiosity and delight, with a dab of pleasant whimsical excitement. Although other tracks like “Soup Kakimazete” also captures those moments of euphoria, nothing quite hits the excitement quota quite like “Lady no Otanoshimi,” with its lively violin and accordion melody that rains energy through its festiveness as it makes you want to get up and join in the celebration.

Hanasaku Machi wo Waltz

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Lady no Otanoshimi

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As the excitement dies down, the measured pace of life and routine settles in. In “Hannari,” the mood of the soundtrack moves towards the introspective, and with it, a daydreaming sound delivered by the clarinet and violin which floats on the piano and acoustic guitar’s harmonic layer to envelope the listener with contentment. The energy moves up a few notches in “Hizuru Tokoro no Shoujo” as the piece adopts a brisk, upbeat tempo while the violin and clarinet showers us with the warmth and joy to be had through the simple pleasures life offers up.

Hizuru Tokoro no Shoujo

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Starting with “Sore wa Yokatta ne,” the lonelier moments materialize, fitting in with Yune’s sense of isolation and initial homesickness as she adjusts to Paris. The piece, carried through the xylophones, is somber as it rides atop the acoustic guitar to draw out that desire to find a sense of belonging. “Tooki Hi no Omoide” is also poignant. Its clarinet introduction already feels spiritually burdensome, but once the violin enters with its wails of anguish, it’s enough to bringing the listener to the brink of despair as they empathize with the piece’s despondent sentiments. And yet, there is hope. “Kazoku ni Naritai,” coming in near the end of the soundtrack, soothes the soul with a contented piano melody, instilling a sense of optimism and belonging while easing the pain as the characters look forward with a sense of confidence.

Tooki Hi no Omoide

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Kazoku ni Naritai

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While the instrumental pieces shine most wonderfully, the vocal tracks are a mixed bag, but are, at worst, mediocre. Of the songs featured on this album, Megumi Nakajima unsurprisingly succeeds in winning listeners’ hearts with her excellent version of “Tooku Kimi he.” The way she delivers her vocals taps into the sense of longing not unlike the one brought forth in Macross Frontier’s “Aimo.” A.m.u., for her part, does well in exuding a positive feeling through “Tomorrow’s Smile,” as she captures the sense of quiet optimism through her soothing singing that sees a bit more energy in the chorus. Nao Touyama’s songs are appropriately sung in a child-like voice, fitting, given that she is Yune’s seiyuu. There are moments during which I found it charming, but Touyama’s singing never engages my emotions quite like the way Nakajima is capable of doing. As for Mamiko Noto… well her vocals aren’t much of a revelation. Noto has always been a two-bit singer at best despite her accomplishments as a seiyuu and her performance on “Takaramono” only confirms this. Here, her delivery is a bit too breathy for my tastes, making it just slightly distracting from what is an otherwise catchy melody.

Tooku Kimi he

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Still, the instrumentals eclipse the songs by a fair bit and yield a most enjoyable offering. The melodies contained within, especially “So Ra So Mi” and its various arrangements, go a long way towards making Ikoku Meiro no Croisee’s soundtrack a memorable experience. Between ARIA, Yokohama Kaidashi Kikou, and Ristorante Paradiso, it’s probably safe to say that any project Shigeharu Sasago touches can be counted upon to deliver with the relaxing vibe that makes for music that soothes the soul, allowing you to temporarily escape the stress and pressure of day to day life by relaxing and unwinding to such calming fare.

Rating: Very Good

Tracklist:

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Review: Back in 2003, during my hazy university days, I watched Now and Then, Here and There for the first time. With little idea of what it was about, I finished the first episode unimpressed with its simplistic art style and clichéd storyline. Then I started episode two, became transfixed, and found myself embarking upon a thirteen-episode marathon, lost in the brutality and beauty of the series. I am not ashamed to say I got pretty darn emotional at the end of it. To me, this was what anime as a storytelling form was all about: a wonderful union of a magnificent plot, sympathetic characters, and of course, a brilliant soundtrack.

I’ll start with the opening theme first, as it’s an interesting one. Composed by Toshio Masuda, Ima, Sokoni Iru Boku opens up every episode. What’s interesting is that nobody sings it. While that’s not too unusual, it’s not exactly fast and catchy as most series openers are. What we have is something resembling a folk tune with an Ecuadorian feel to it. I half expected a man with pan-pipes to show up.  Though not finger-snappishly good, as the series goes on, the song kind of grows on you. It’s happy, compared to the series’s subject matter, and I think that’s important.

Ima, Sokoni Iru Boku

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Maestro Taku Iwasaki is at the helm for the rest, and is the perfect man for the job. This is the late 1990s Iwasaki, who composed the sublime Rurouni Kenshin: Tsuiokuhen soundtrack around the same time. He would then write the much-lauded soundtracks to Read or Die and Witch Hunter Robin in a couple of years. And he is in full flight in Now and Then, Here and There, creating something close to a masterpiece.

This soundtrack is packed with classic Iwasaki and he brings his trademark style, especially in his faster tunes. Rescuer and Decadence features his signature electronic bass sounds, machine-gun snares and sudden heavy drums. The strings then come in with the melody and pull the tension as long as they can before the piece all crashes down in a rapid drum and bass climax, which does well to drive the excitement of the scene.

And while I mentioned that he creates similar songs, he still manages to keep them varied. In Run, the strings play across the beats to create something surprisingly fun in an otherwise darker theme. Tumbling is also a favourite of mine, with a great guitar section that once again, does very well with the beats. Matched with the strings, the piece becomes an impassioned tune that races at breakneck speed.

Tumbling

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That’s not to say the whole album is composed of break-beats and electronica.  Iwasaki does throw in some introspective gems not just to slow the pace down, but to also involve the listener more emotionally. Tears starts with a tender, yet mournful flute melody before the strings take over, all the time supported by a quiet piano. Calmative uses its strings to evoke a suspenseful, ominous tone. Scattered about it are ringing bells and other oddities. Miss aims to bring the drama, with a duet between the slow and loud strings and the very sad, lone flute.

One Calm evokes the image of a happier piece through a piano and flute duet that comes on in the village part of the series. And just as the village was a refuge for the protaganists, this composition gives the listener time to breathe before the next tense piece. I also particularly like the ending song, Komoriuta. This one’s a lullaby, with very simplistic structure to it. Reiko Yasuhara, who voices Abelia in the series, sings here and makes this song more vulnerable. Its simplicity works because it’s such a contrast to the conflict that permeates the entire series. It’s a break of sorts, before the next dose of confrontation.

Komoriuta

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There are parts I find that, while having Iwasaki’s trademark style, doesn’t really engage me as much. The Bottom is too atmospheric for my tastes, and A Law Deal just sounds very much like a filler song. Deadlock has an interesting beginning with its quiet pulsating bass, but the synth bit at the end feels rather flat and useless. Of course this could be due to the song matching the scene in the series, but it really doesn’t work on its own. So there are some dud songs in the soundtrack, but you know, that’s all quite easily forgiven. Not because of the quality of the other songs. And certainly not because of Iwasaki’s pedigree.

No, he is forgiven because of the soundtrack’s very first track, Standing in the Sunset Glow. This, to me, is Iwasaki’s magnum opus. An absolute masterpiece. The epitome of the Iwasaki sound that becomes prevalent in his future works. Running at twenty minutes in length, this is his longest piece and certainly one of his most emotionally charged ones. It comes in three parts; the first (my favourite) leads in with a flowing line of violins that play a slow, sweeping melody. The melody repeats, with more harmony added in by additional strings and a piano. This builds until about the four minute mark, where it reaches a climax of strings, before ending on a very bittersweet note.

Standing in the Sunset Glow

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Straight away, the second act begins with a cello ushering in tension and conflict. It is dark and tumultuous, and leads into an even more ominous version of Calmative, before the strings come in again for another dose of drama. It’s a dark seven minutes yes, but there’s a stark beauty about it and does its job to herald in the next part.

Standing in the Sunset Glow

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As if the first rays of sunlight after the storm, a piano begins to play, soft and calm. The lush strings come in to support, before taking over amidst heavy drumbeats. They play the melody of the first act once more, but this one is infused with more hope and wonder. At the seventeenth minute, there is a pause for the lyrical flute to take the melody, which now begins to build and build and build. And finally, at the last minute of the piece, it all ends triumphant, beautiful and ultimately, inspiring.

Standing in the Sunset Glow

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I apologize if I sound like I’m gushing. This is really one of my favourite instrumental pieces around, because of its technical virtuosity and emotional impact. This soundtrack is well-worth the listen, if only to hear the beginning of Iwasaki’s brilliance before his subsequent compositions, and hopefully, you’ll fall in love with his music all over again.

Rating: Excellent

Tracklist:

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Review: At first glance, Madoka Magica seemed like an odd anime for Kajiura to be scoring. Her past works are marked by music that invoke the arcane and foreboding, making Madoka, with its typical magical girl premise involving the usual teenagers, magical powers, cute costumes, saving the world, and happily-ever-afters, a total mismatch. In hindsight, the choice of Kajiura as composer was, in all likelihood, a pronounced hint of the dark events that would unfold during the next few months. The hint proves to be true; Kajiura reaches into her magic hat with a flourish, pulling out another of her trademark soundtracks with aplomb. The trick remains immersive and enjoyable, but some of the novelty is lost in the repetition nonetheless.

The plot commences in a fairly orthodox manner. Madoka and Sayaka become entrapped in the demented twists of a witch’s alternate dimension and are overcome with horror as the once-familiar surroundings mutate into a terrifying amalgamation of bizarre images. Fleeing the inexorable clutches of appallingly macabre mustached cotton-balls, their salvation comes in a form they least anticipated. Mami, a veteran magic wielder, descends upon the scene to annihilate the hate-filled witch. Her unexpected but graceful entry fills them with wonder, and her noble bearing presents her as a miraculous agent of light and accomplished antithesis of evil. This imagery is captured perfectly in the joyous chorus heard in “Credens Justitiam”, or in English, “Trusting Justice”. The voices are exultant, as if the gods of victory are proclaiming triumph for the virtuous, reveling in the banishment of the foul demons endangering the innocent. It’s a rather standard Kajiura vocal work that wouldn’t be out of place alongside previous pieces like “Elenore” and “Mezame”, but its uplifting verses and animated tempo allow the similarities of tone and melody to be forgotten, forming the perfect representation of the awe induced by the seemingly pure and incorruptible power that mamifests in Mami.

Credens Justitiam

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Through this, the protagonists begin to realize the myriad possibilities that magic offers them. The choice isn’t an easy one; “Desiderium” presents an apt portrait of the girls’ contemplative states as they inwardly reflect over whether the benefits of becoming a magical girl are worth the duty of battling evil for eternity. The delicate notes borne by the piano flit around, meandering like the deliberations of an introspective mind. Quickening in pace and fading in unconfident conclusions, they swell again in intensity as new paths are pursued. To the listener, it feels as if the smallest disturbance would shatter the fragile phrases, scattering ephemeral notions in all directions. Unusual in its restrained delivery, “Desiderium” loses nothing in its subtle performance, proving itself to be one of the more unique tracks in the album.

Desiderium

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It isn’t long before Madoka and Company are drawn into the conflict between magical girls and witches as they are forced to confront more of the multi-themed malevolent beings. “Pugna cum Maga”, appropriately meaning “Fight with a Witch”, is one of several combat themes present. The violins play heavily into their strings, eliciting wails that border upon shrillness, akin to the unearthly wails the witches shriek in their merciless and mindless rampages. Meanwhile, the chant that’s nearly omnipresent throughout the album takes on a more sinister quality, recalling the unearthly realms in which the witches are deeply ensconced. While the track is prone to being a bit static, it adeptly captures the thick despair that permeates the atmosphere surrounding the insidious witches.

Pugna cum Maga

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It’s soon apparent that taking on the mantle of a destroyer of evil is more than it is at first glance. The shroud of mystery that obscures the mechanisms behind puellae drives most of the sentiments behind the soundtrack. This aura materializes in “Sis Puella Magica!,” the album’s mascot track – a song that expresses the unanswered questions the girls have about their existence while simultaneously lamenting the burden they bear. The ethnic influences that can be heard also lend the music a feeling of age, as if the protagonists are only the latest to encounter these cloaked secrets. The various nuances of the occult and the unknown that this piece exhibits make it a lovely listen, recalling all of the key aspects of the anime in its melody.

Sis Puella Magica!

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The whole anime might have revolved around how being Meguca is suffering, but it did have the decency to give the characters a bittersweet ending. “Clementia” captures the sentiments felt after all has been said and done. Neither euphoric nor despondent, the piece is characterized by a peace and reserved affection that echoes with hints of heartache. The sweet notes of the oboe as it sings in a duet with a harp are a poignant musical manifestation of the acts of compassion that end the harrowing struggles the protagonists endured.

Clementia

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While the Madoka OST is a decent soundtrack that meshes nigh perfectly with the animation, it is weighted with the flaws that most Kajiura soundtracks suffer from when subject to a stand-alone listen. Foremost amongst those flaws is – well – that it’s yet another Kajiura soundtrack. If the Madoka BGM were swapped with the music from some other anime scored by her, things would fit together just as well. Other issues present in the soundtrack include that directionless ambience, one of my biggest pet peeves. Selections like “Umbra Nigra” and “Puella in Somnio” have either generous helpings of echoes applied to ominous noises or repetitive patterns that remain tediously unchanging. These problems don’t present themselves nearly as obviously as in some of Kajiura’s other work, but it’s noticeable enough to knock the rating down a few notches.

As a whole, the Madoka OST isn’t Kajiura’s best or worst, but it is certainly an enjoyable album that’s enhanced by the experience of watching the fantastic anime (which practically everyone has at this point).

Rating: Very Good

Tracklist

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Review: It isn’t often that I can name a series in which the anime’s content and its soundtrack are joined together so seamlessly that both entities are rendered inseparable, but Kara no Kyoukai is one of the few that qualifies. As I watched the movies, the animation and atmosphere bring out a dark and mysterious world filled with danger and despair, qualities heightened further by Yuki Kajiura’s evocative compositions. In just the very first track, “in the garden of sinners,” Kajiura’s music impresses. The piece starts out filled with dull-grays through the soloist’s muffled, distant delivery, but once the rest of Kalafina joins in, the sheer beauty carried through their voices provides a splash of radiant coloration onto the canvas. Yet, the tone is overwhelmingly lonely and tragic. These emotions mirror the atmosphere that blankets much of the setting and the characters and lay the groundwork for what’s to come.

in the garden of sinners

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So with that, the journey begins. “Thanatos,” which covers the first Kara no Kyoukai movie, Overlooking View, starts off with a heavy, dissonant atmosphere, but quickly discards that chaotic air in favor of a melancholy one. Echoes of the loneliness that pervade the first track are present here, brought out compellingly through the flute melody that is as beautiful as it is sorrowful. The general mood is further augmented by Kalafina’s harmonizations which, like elsewhere in the album, yield a pensive, ethereal quality, along with a hint of mystery and a knowing nod towards the tragic threads interwoven in Kara no Kyoukai’s narrative fabric.

Thanatos (Melancholia)

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As you approach “Thanatos’s” halfway point, flashes of redemption are heard through the strings, but just when you think that the piece is setting itself to wind down on a comforting note, the synth makes a return, and with it, the ominous aura borne by a dissonant tone that sits in the background. The suspense is heightened, and I like how its accented through the solitary xylophone which conjures up in my mind a disconcerting feeling in the way it tiptoes around almost deliberately, as though some supernatural power is toying around with the protagonist like a cat playing around with its prey. A heavy rhythm goes in to reinforce this mood, setting up a strong foundation for the action-filled moment where the furious guitar shredding summons a hauntingly beautiful, graceful action theme. Before the piece closes out completely, the flute comes in and later, a cello, which, together, bestow a sense of finality. Through death, the pain and suffering are over.

Thanatos (Suspense)

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“Thanatos” serves as an excellent example of the myriad of emotions that arise from the lengthy tracks on this album. And I do mean lengthy. Though the pieces tend to be long, the people who put this soundtrack collection together did their best to take the more prominent themes from each of the Kara no Kyoukai movies and join them in such a way that each track tells a complete story. There are moments, like one in “something and nothing” and “kara-no-kyoukai” where the transition from one musical segment to the next is either noticeably clumsy or the themes lack coherence, but for the most part, the melodies are stitched together seamlessly into an enjoyable package that’s high on the nostalgia factor for those who’ve seen the movies.

In short, unless I really missed out on something, all of the standout melodic segments and main themes are there. For example, one of the pieces that I had been looking forward to was the waltzing theme from A Study in Murder (Part 1). As I watched the movie, I found myself captivated by its melody; not only was it catchy, it encompassed a wide emotional spectrum. Materializing in “something and nothing” and “quiet romance,” between the two, I like the latter a bit more because of the variety of instruments that contribute to the heartrending feelings. The piano is more sobering, setting the melancholy tone which the flute draws upon to elicit those yearning emotions, while the strings carry a more dignified aura that has the feel of an emotional odyssey as it expresses the determination to find and unite with loved ones once again.

quiet romance

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As you move further along, there’s a lot of variety to enjoy, from the ominous aura of “paradox” to “magician’s” grotesque dance. The heavier atmosphere dominates much of this soundtrack, but there are lighter moments too. Of those, I’m most fond of Azaka Kokutou’s appropriately spunky theme, which can be heard in the beginning of “when the fairy tale ends.” The piano’s light steps bring a smile to my face with its bright and cheery tones, a feeling further enhanced through the ensemble’s pomp and splendor. But that’s not all it has to offer because “when a fairy tale ends” continues to engross, particularly when Kajiura calls in the introduction to Kalafina’s “Fairytale,” which soothes me with its tranquil delivery, and when the oft-played action theme comes in to keep me engaged through its twists and turns that help propel the action along and make the battle more exciting.

magician

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when the fairy tale ends (Azaka’s Theme)

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when the fairy tale ends (Fairytale)

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when the fairy tale ends (Action Theme)

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But all things must come to an end, and in Kara no Kyoukai’s soundtrack, that end is in “snow is falling.” The track initially features Kalafina’s soothing, hopeful vocals which shine in their own right, but what I really like is how this piece functions as the bookend as it reprises the main theme from “in the garden of sinners,” except this time, it’s played by a full string ensemble. The calming aura that issues forth through the combination of the strings and chorus provides closure as the horrors of the past become naught but a distant memory. Life can go on as normal, and the optimistic mood offers the assurance that all is at peace and shall remain so.

snow is falling

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When I first saw the tracklist, I was a bit torn in the way they decided to condense Kajiura’s score for all of the Kara no Kyoukai movies into such lengthy tracks, but looking back, this was the right decision that, more importantly, benefited from stellar execution. As I listen to this album, my memories of the movies are rekindled. Yuki Kajiura once again shows her deft handling of the action and atmosphere, and through her music, I once again find myself immersed in the world sculpted by Kinoko Nasu, with its dark, mysterious overtones scarred by tragedy and sadness but buoyed by the promise of hope and salvation.

Rating: Excellent

Tracklist

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Review: Those who’ve tracked Makoto Yoshimori’s emergence as an anime composer will know that his style is extremely varied, weird at times, but never boring. His musical brush in Kuragehime’s soundtrack highlights a broad spectrum of genres, from jazz, to Celtic, to the sweet emotional piano melodies that have been a staple of his works since Koi Kaze, but the one constant running thread that’s present here and in his past soundtracks is his penchant for combining natural sounds, be it human groans or a busy thoroughfare, with his instrumental melodies. Listeners new to his style may find the weirdness disconcerting and chafe at what Yoshimori considers music, but this style has grown on me. Now, when I chance upon a new work of his, I eagerly anticipate the thrills that come out of Yoshimori’s eccentricities.

Nowhere is Yoshimori’s weirdness more apparent than in “Kimyou ga Nishiki,” which initially feels tame by his usual standards with only a sproinging sound to raise any eyebrows early on. But towards the second half of the piece, the piece unravels as the trumpet player throws all semblance of order to the wind and plays each note seemingly arbitrarily as though to depicts a mind slowly fraying from whatever stresses the person depicted is experiencing. The chaos that issues forth might not be everyone’s cup of tea, but I found the disorder to be engaging in the way it evokes near-bedlam from whatever hi-jinks are going on in the anime.

Kimyou ga Nishiki

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But that’s about as weird as it gets; the other tracks, like “Tayutau you ni yurayura to” and “Yokoso Amamizukan he” are more conventional Yoshimori weirdness in that the weird parts either make sense or work in concert with the instrumentals. “Tayutau you ni yurayura to” is an example of the latter as it bears a graceful, flowing piano melody reminiscent of the more heartfelt pieces from Natsume Yuujinchou’s soundtrack along with forest-y sounds as accompaniment. “Yokoso Amamizukan he” is unbalanced, featuring a heavy bass rhythm atop the melodic line, making the entire package sound awkward. The random woofing noises, dissonant synth, and stomach groans that follow exudes clumsiness, thereby capturing the socially maladjusted denizens of the Amamizukan apartments perfectly.

Tayutau you ni yurayura to

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The rest of the tracks offer a rich range of diversity, with a few ethnically-oriented tracks worth highlighting. Mayaya’s obsession of China’s Three Kingdoms period is heard through “Souten no Gotoku,” which has the flourishes that you might expect from a stereotypical Imperial Chinese court theme complete with a gong that sounds out periodically. Yoshimori’s work in Celtic music is also present in “Asu ameagari” which delivers with a lively Irish reel. But none of those tracks manage to make me smile quite like “Clara Detsu!” The music draws its influence from the Caribbean calypso, including the use of the steel pans typical of the genre, but the highlight of the track is the memetic call and response of “Clara!” and “Tequila!” No amount of puzzling can conjure any satisfying meaning behind the “Tequila!” response, but I love it anyway for the whimsy that’s on display.

Asu ameagari

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Clara Detsu!

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Kuragehime’s soundtrack continues to provide us with the dreamy tracks that have put Yoshimori among my favorite anime composers. The star of this soundtrack is none other than “Umi to Tsuki no Yume,” which is wrapped with a bubble of innocence. The music box melody that comes forth is a mixture of the sweet and the heartrending moments; the tone that sounds out paints a tragic picture of a dream that has repeatedly disappointed, but one that Tsukimi’s – she’s Kuragehime’s protagonist – nonetheless yearns for. Its bittersweet, longing tones really put their stamp upon me, and if there’s one musical theme that I’ll take out from this soundtrack, it would be this one.

Umi to Tsuki no Yume

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Finally, a Kuragehime soundtrack review wouldn’t be complete without a mention of how much I love Yoshimori’s forays into jazz. I’ve often complained that Baccano!’s score is a bit of a bore, but Yoshimori seems to have learned from that experience and has given us some engaging jazz numbers like “We are AMARS,” which adds a dab of funk along with some side trips into a folk dance before returning to the groove once more. And as far as finales go, “Odore! Amars” is a wonderful sendoff as it brings in a big band sound that is overflowing with energy. The tempo that moves the piece along gives it a strutting movement that’s further accented through the call and response between the saxophone and the rest of the band. Its style is superb, oozing with a confidence that ends the soundtrack on a solid note, even if the anime still has threads left dangling.

We are AMARS

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Odore! Amars

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There’s more to praise of course, like how well Yoshimori showcases his ability to compose Minimalist piano themes in Kuragehime’s soundtrack, but what’s the point aside from reinforcing my declaration that each Yoshimori soundtrack is better than his last is still true? In each subsequent work, Makoto Yoshimori continues to raise the bar; each iteration shows slight improvement, whether it’s making his emotional, introspective pieces even more so or simply showing his competence in composing a wide variety of musical genres to keep the listening experience fresh and engaging. The groans and other odd sounds that people might have issues with are unlikely to go away, but Yoshimori has also done a better job implementing them so that they never clash so harshly with the instrumentals. Or maybe I’ve been hypnotized by Yoshimori’s eccentricities to the point where I actually look forward to enjoying the strangeness each and every time.

Rating: Very Good

Track List

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Review: The Cowboy Bebop movie was something of a mixed bag.  As a companion side-story to the original series, its biggest demerit was that you knew from the beginning that nothing significant could happen to the main characters in any appreciable way, lest the movie prove unfaithful to the timeline of the show. It’s a great work in terms of production value and execution, but the movie’s inconsequentiality meant that it could never really stand on its own as its own product. Appreciation for the movie could only be fully realized if you saw the show.

The soundtracks for the two works follow much the same path. Though it’s a great Yoko Kanno score in many ways, there is the inescapable feeling that the movie’s soundtrack lives in the shadow of its predecessor.  Given the exquisiteness the Bebop OST exhibits, though, it’s like saying that someone is just a little bit slower than Usain Bolt.

24 Hours Open

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I’d like to start with the biggest disappointment on the disc: “24 Hours Open.” I can see what they were going for here, with the irony of machine gun noises, weeping, and screaming set to serene, lighthearted background music, but their decision to open the disc with this is absolutely baffling. Its selling point is its novelty, but it is far too repetitive and quickly overstays its welcome. The screaming loses steam halfway through, as if the singers themselves (actresses?) begin to realize how silly it all is. When looked at on the whole, it’s totally inconsistent in terms of style and quality compared to the rest of the track list. I can imagine how off-putting this song must have been to people first popping in the disc, and it gives a terrible first impression.

Luckily, “24 hours Open” proves to be the black sheep of the album. The disc goes on to feature great jazz numbers, and, unlike the series’ soundtrack, carries a strong (if not always good) pop/rock slant.

Pushing the Sky

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“Pushing the Sky” is one of those rock-oriented tracks, though not one of the better ones. The energetic riffs and frantic drumming feign a drive toward a climactic ending but end up going in circles; Mai Yamane’s vocals sound like they were recorded from behind a door, and the constant presence of too-heavily distorted duo guitars and pop n’ slap bass somehow make the song sound simultaneously too busy and monotonous. I can see where the appeal lies, it just doesn’t lie anywhere near me.

The next two tracks are breaths of fresh air for the discerning jazzman. “Time to Know~Be Waltz” is a fun, light-hearted number with a tinge of Latin flair, carried by the flutes and non-lyrical singing to give an airy, open feel. The alto sax solo about a third of the way through, though, is what really steals the show, and it just doesn’t last long enough. It’s a shame that the song pulled out its big guns so early in the run, because the rest of the tune is made up mostly of some strange, if very interesting, hip-hop. In the end, “Time to Know~Be Waltz” gives me just a taste of the jazz I’ve come to expect from Bebop, and it’s the next tune, “Clutch,” that offers the real, meaty, dirty old jazz that keeps me glued to my headphones.

Clutch

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While “Time to Know” took its time ramping up on the excitement, “Clutch” burns it up right out of the gate. Casting a soprano sax instead of the predictable alto or tenor was a commendable decision, as the extra kick the tone of the soprano gives was the push that grants it a spot in my daily playlists. This song isn’t just a good selection off of a soundtrack. It’s good jazz, good music, with a style highly reminiscent of the club jazz group Soil & “Pimp” Sessions. There are strong performances all around, and it remains one of the high points of the album.

Musawe

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In accordance with the Arabic setting of parts of the movie, you get the feeling that the album is much more ethnic than what is offered in the series. This is exemplified by “Musawe,” where its sudden strangeness sneaks up on you after “Clutch.” You’d expect to grow tired of the chanting, repetitive lyrics after a while, but the novelty surprisingly didn’t fade for me, helped no doubt by the wild saxophone musings going on in the background.

What Planet is This

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The bombastic “What Planet Is This” is also worth mentioning simply due to the fact that it’s as close as this soundtrack ever comes to the original series’ “Tank!” It’s a shame that “What Planet Is This” is so repetitive (a descriptor that can be applied to most of the songs here), as the addition of even a single extra bridge section would have gone a long way.

Dijurido

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In contrast to all the energy and excitement that “What Planet Is This” offers, “Dijurido” is a quiet, sentimental song notable if only for having no real form. I’m a sucker for unusual time signatures, though, so an extensive (if repetitive) 5/8 section in the middle warrants a mention here. Oh, and it’s sung by Gabriela Robin, who may or not be Yoko Kanno.

Arguably the highlight of the album is “Gotta Knock a Little Harder,” a soulful, blues-rock number with vocals by Mai Yamane. Yamane’s dark, throaty tone is better matched by the bright piano and gospel-inspired backing vocals here than in “Pushing the Sky’s” grunge. The gospel inspiration doesn’t stop at the background either; her performance here would give Aretha Franklin a run for her money, with a delivery that exhibits power and soulfulness which eclipses everything else on the album, making it the single greatest performance on the disc.

Gotta Knock a Little Harder

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Kanno outdid herself with Cowboy Bebop’s score.  In Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door, though, it’s almost as if she purposefully thought inside the box a little bit. Granted, nearly anything would have been a bit of a disappointment after Bebop, but it’s pretty commendable that she decided to try something different instead of directly trying to one-up herself with more of the same. Whereas my review of the first Cowboy Bebop soundtrack got a “Very Good” for its questionable distribution of content, Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door gets the same for being just a cut under what I expected.

Rating: Very Good

Tracklist:

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Review: Bigger isn’t necessarily better. In the midst of a month dedicated to a composer who takes everything to the extreme, this review focuses on an entirely different approach. Ken Muramatsu does not sit down and write the music for Sketchbook ~full color’S~ inspired by the movements of the planets, the human condition, or god knows what else. That’s just not the way he swings.

He does, however, infuse Sketchbook’s tracks with a laid back and jazzy style that’s just as enjoyable in its own right. “Hitomishiri Na Mama de” is an iconic example of his music. Instead of more ostensible trumpets and saxophones, Muramatsu favors quieter instruments, most notably the piano. The melody, while slow, isn’t boring or bland. What we get is a nonchalant and catchy piece that doesn’t demand recognition and yet isn’t difficult to pay attention to – perhaps an apt summary of almost any Muramatsu work. His style slowly and smoothly draws one into the mood, a quality which makes it so appropriate for a slice-of-life series.

Hitomishiri Na Mama de

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True to his aforementioned style, even the more upbeat tracks in Sketchbook don’t digress from the leisurely pace set in “Hitomishiri Na Mama de.” “Speed 2,” despite its name, isn’t rushed in the slightest. After the catchy opening rhythm, it’s reminiscent of the times spent unhurriedly hanging around and chatting with friends with nowhere specific to go and nothing pressing to do. “Kibou no Hesaki” also has a lively theme that induces a cheerful attitude. The characters in Sketchbook could be eating lunch, painting, or attending school, but they’re guaranteed to be doing it in a good mood.

Speed 2

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Kibou no Hesaki

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But a slice of life about a group of girls only sketching giddily 24/7 would make for a boring show and repetitive music. Fortunately, Sketchbook delves more into the friendships and interactions between the eccentric cast, and Muramatsu gives us a smattering of tracks appropriately nuanced to reflect that. There is a feeling of hesitancy in the light and staccato notes in “Maigo Koneko.” The almost bashful atmosphere the piece creates recalls the painfully shy main character, Sora, and her timid communications (if they can even be called that) with her peers. “Ochoushimono no Uta” and its energetic recorder in draws the focus away from Sora’s retiring nature and concentrates on the animated antics of the enthusiastic members of the art club while they enjoy their afternoons together.

Maigo Koneko

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Nevertheless, as with all slice-of-life shows, there’s some bittersweet feeling as the good times come to an end. “Bokura no Bouken~ Kaermichi” is one of several piano solo renditions of themes presented in the album. In its melancholy melody, one hears the wistful feelings of nostalgia and the wishes to relive fond memories once again. Unfortunately, time can’t be rewound, but the bonds forged and the lessons learned remain, regardless.

Bokura no Bouken~ Kaermichi

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As I’ve said before, the relaxing vibes of this soundtrack don’t evoke images or feelings of epic proportions, but that’s exactly what makes it so pleasant and fitting for a slice of life show. Sketchbook ~full color’S~ isn’t my favorite Muramatsu score, but that doesn’t make it any less enjoyable.

Rating: Very Good

Tracklist

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Review: It’s hard pegging what “Spiral re-born” is aiming for without knowing the context since its vocals are tinged with an overwhelming sense of grief and the way they are delivered hints at some grave tragedy that’s occurred in the past. This haunting outpouring is followed by “Principle of the Abyss of Earth’s” tribal rhythm which reinforces the image of an ancient ceremony through the warlike chant. But it’s in this track that the music transitions out of that bygone era, first through a dissonant bagpipe, and then a brief, nostalgic-sounding flute melody, until the tribal beats back off completely. In the tranquil atmosphere that follows, a trumpet fanfare summons the heroes to undertake the epic journey. The melody sounds ever hopeful, and with the optimism riding high, the adventure is ready to begin!

Principle of the Abyss of Earth

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Is this really how ∀ Gundam starts out? I wouldn’t know; I’ve never seen the anime. On the off chance that I happen to be right, consider this a testament to Yoko Kanno’s ability to depict humanity’s steady march from a backwater culture into a modernized force through music. But her excellence doesn’t stop here. The remainder of ∀ Gundam exemplifies Kanno’s skill at orchestral compositions, yielding a magnificent soundtrack that takes us through the highs and lows of the anime’s conflict, from the catastrophe that arises as a result of an invasion, to the redemption and glory to be had as the survivors reassemble and successfully fight back.

That’s what we get in the next two tracks, “Memory of Military Boots” and “Springing from the Earth,” which prominently display the Wagnerian bombast that keeps me enthralled. “Memory of Military Boots” gets there through a slow, serene buildup as it takes the tranquility from the previous track and transitions to a military march which only suffers slightly from the way the two trumpets are muddled together. No matter because once the piece crescendos into the climax, the feeling is exhilarating as I eagerly look forward to the epicness that is in store. “Springing from the Earth” doesn’t even bother to wait, preferring to plunge you straight into the adventure with a ringing sendoff. In between the two awe-inspiring fanfares, this track is instilled with a heroic purpose which propels it towards the clash that will determine the heroes’ destiny.

Springing from the Earth

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Enter then, the “Advent” tracks, which show the conflict’s dark side. The “First Advent,” appropriately enough, brings out the track title’s implied religiosity through a foreboding chant with a grim orchestral layer to accompany the despair that ensues in the face of the overwhelming force. The “Second Advent” takes up where the first leaves off with a frenetic dose of action, appropriating dissonant cues to impart the imminent danger while incorporating a Russian dance form that radiates desperation in its movement. With its conclusion, the morbid doom is all too certain, and the “Third Advent” reflects the sheer destructiveness through a quiet, sobering melody, filled with heartache and sorrow. But once the bell tolls, the piece heads toward more uplifting fare, offering a supportive arm so that the survivors may endure past the pains and rise once more.

The Third Advent ~ The Thing Hiding in the Ground

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With “Final Shore,” the action tracks subside for a time, allowing Kanno to showcase some of her less intense symphonic tracks. “Girls Rule” is a beautiful example. Its short violin phrases are pleasantly charming in the way it cultivates a playful tone before soaring to great heights as the sweeping melody conveys freedom and happiness. “Quiet Landing” is no slouch either, taking the tranquil aura associated with the vastness and emptiness of space and slowly unveiling a marvelous sight, adding more instrumental voices (including a chorus) so that it blossoms into a dazzling orchestral display. And then there’s “Talking Soshie,” which shows what Kanno can do with a smaller ensemble. The piece is carried by the woodwind section which combines well with the violin to produce a light, whimsical melody that reminds me of Kanno’s score for Napple Tale and provides a nice contrast to the heavy-hitting orchestral pieces.

Quiet Landing

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But while I can revel all day in Kanno’s orchestral broth, its her emotionally moving themes that make ∀ Gundam such a gratifying listen. “Moon,” in particular, is absolutely unforgettable as its ethereal, serene delivery slowly transitions through the percussion to become a heartrending display of human endurance as the survivors struggle against all odds. “The Song of a Stone” also has that heartfelt touch, packing a feeling of loftiness through a hauntingly beautiful chorus part that could easily have been an extension of “Angel” from Kanno’s Escaflowne soundtrack.

Moon

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The Song of a Stone

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Finally, for those not fond of her orchestral flavorings, there are a few offbeat tracks like “Air Plant’s” New Age guitar work that’s mixed with a smattering or rock music. The chants do get an opportunity once more in the “Ceremony of Crossing Over” and “When Talking of Old Promises,” the latter of which sounds funereal as it grows louder all the while. Kanno does stick in a J-pop ballad in “Boys about 16,” and while Shikyoh Iwasaka’s singing and expressiveness is decent, its staying power lies in the catchy, uplifting chorus. Still, when speaking of the non-orchestral tracks, nothing beats “Guin Lineford’s Limousine,” which engrosses me through its lively Celtic flavor, and “5/4 moon,” which captures “Moon’s” beauty while adopting a more nostalgic tone through its folksy melody.

Guin Lineford’s Limousine

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When Yoko Kanno arms herself with her orchestral brush to score a series, the result is an engaging, evocative work. Of her soundtracks that I’ve let simmer and marinate on my playlist, ∀ Gundam is my favorite as of this writing. Through her efforts here, she unleashes an unforgettable, orchestral delight that, once again, demonstrates why she’s oftentimes so favorably compared to the film maestro John Williams.

Rating: Excellent

Tracklist

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Review: Yuki Kajiura, judging by her top position on the recent composer’s poll, commands a style that’s universally appealing. So appealing in fact, she can afford to allow diversity to remain the exception and not the standard in her music. Fortunately or unfortunately (depending on your point of view) the Madlax soundtrack is not an exception.

With the usual medley of beat-driven action, mysterious choruses, and ethnic atmosphere, the soundtrack possesses little to no unique traits that set it apart from Kajiura’s usual fare. As expected, several of her signature vocal tracks are scattered through the disc; “Nowhere” is the highlight, with a background chant that maintains an atmosphere of mysticism. The singer’s voice has a marked sense of liveliness and urgency that does a good job of immersing the listener in the intensity of the song. Through its energy, it becomes easy to visualize a close encounter with some immense arcane power or a breathless escape from thick volleys of enemy fire.

Nowhere

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The other vocal pieces are pleasant but for the most part fail to distinguish themselves. “Cradle” is a simple but soothing lullaby which isn’t memorable aside from an interesting pronunciation of the title. “Elenore” manages to be better. It pulls off a simultaneously moving and calming atmosphere that for some reason reminds me of music by the artist Enya. However, it’s precisely this vague similarity that makes it difficult for me to recall the track, as my memories end up being repeatedly obstructed by choruses of “sail away, sail away, sail away.”

Elenore

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The instrumental part of the album is just as much of a mixed bag. On the positive side, I found myself greatly enjoying “Galza” and its distinctly medieval character. Beginning with some compelling percussion, the track evokes the image of an unfaltering wanderer possessed by a single-minded purpose. “Battlefield” also succeeds at creating a vivid depiction of the scenery suggested in its title by presenting the desolation of war with a slow theme depressed by the weight of reality.

Galza

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Nonetheless, what sets the Madlax soundtrack below Kajiura’s better stuff is the number of tracks that border on ambience. “In a Foreign Town” sets up an engaging atmosphere with a Middle Eastern flavor but disappoints by remaining largely static throughout. “Quanzitta” and “Midnight” go down the same route with repetitive, ethnic themes that are rehashed a few times too many. Similarly, “Calm Violence” doesn’t do much. The rhythms take the forefront of the scene, yet after two minutes and a half minutes without significant development it becomes difficult to stay focused on the music.

In a Foreign Town

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Calm Violence

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The trend only continues in “Calm Days”. Here the melody is held by disproportionately soft synthetic strings that compete with a keyboard layered with audio effects. It’s very likely that Kajiura attempted to mask the flat synth with the decidedly less artificial-sounding piano, but the melody becomes too overpowered as a result. Then there’s the disappointment that is “Vanessa”. After hearing actual strings at the beginning, I let my hopes rise, expecting Kajiura to show off what she’s capable of wringing out of physical instruments. Instead, the track decides to blather off into a section reminiscent of infomercials and elevators. Whoever Vanessa is, I hope she isn’t as bland as the infomercials I’ve seen in my lifetime.

Vanessa

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This album’s general weakness lies in its tendency to repeat some motif ad infinitum without much development. Even the tracks which I found myself initially enjoying began to bore me as they wore out their welcome. Part of the problem stems from how Kajiura comes to rely too much on the rhythm to carry the music. While she may be very adept at creating an engrossing pulse (perhaps part of the reason she’s so popular), it’s not enough to prevent the tracks from becoming stale and faceless after repeated playthroughs.

I wouldn’t call this album bad, but it frequently skirts the line bordering ambience albeit of the high-quality kind. Unless you’re an ardent Kajiura fan, I would pass up the Madlax OST up for something she’s put more effort into.

Rating: Good

Tracklist

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Review: If there is one question that always sits in the back of my mind whenever I approach a Kajiura soundtrack, it’s how diverse a tracklist she brings to the album. Kajiura’s consistency is a selling point to her many fans, but as I’ve remarked in Kajiura’s Profile, the stylistic uniformity of her non-choral music can make listening to her soundtracks straight through a tedious exercise. It’s no accident then that her best works exhibit a good amount of diversity within the album, combining many stylistic elements to make the listening experience an engaging one. And of Kajiura’s soundtracks, I’ve yet to find one more enjoyable than My-HiME’s.

It helps that My-HiME can be divided into two distinct entities, allowing Kajiura to bring in that much-needed variety. The anime’s school life section, where events unfold at a leisurely pace, is marked by easygoing and upbeat music. “Today’s Beginning” is an effective example as it sets the optimistic attitude that the protagonist, Mai Tokiha, carries into her new environs. Its bright, cheery piano introduction quickly makes way for a violin melody that paints a relaxing picture, one further reinforced by the flute as together, the instruments deliver the sense of wonder imparted through the magnificent school setting as well as the wonderful prospects for what this new life brings.

Today’s Beginning

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The enthusiasm doesn’t stop there either. The next track, “Summer, Sky, Sea Breeze” captures the essence of summer in an unorthodox manner by having a saxophone playing a smooth melodic line supported by the violins, electric guitar, and synth. Its arrangement exudes energy from every note, and its upbeat tones encourage all listening to seize the day and make the most of the summer fun. “Tumultuous School Life,” while also energetic, directs that energy towards a staccato presentation with the pace and discipline of a military march. It’s not until the xylophonic part comes in that hints of mischief materialize, completing the picture of the school experience that consists of not only the orderly classroom experience, but also the whimsical hijinks that occur as the students are at play. And speaking of the xylophonic sound’s more mischievous vibe, I really like how the cute ditty in “I’m Hungry!” pans out. This track fittingly depicts the aftermath of Makoto’s capriciousness as her shenanigans backfire, forcing her to flee the scene of the crime, pursued by the victims of her transgressions while her mouth is on fire.

Tumultuous School Life

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I’m Hungry!

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I could go on and on about other tracks like the serene, but enigmatic “Mysterious” and the relaxing, carefree piano melody in “A Small Happiness,” but as delightful as the school life pieces are, the inclusion of action-oriented fare keeps the soundtrack from becoming stale. The music hints at the imminent, destructive fallout in the album’s first track, “Himeboshi,” which features a lilting chorus that wouldn’t be out of place at a funeral. “Himeboshi” is draped by a curtain of sadness, and, through the vocals, foreshadows the long string of tragedies that unfold during the anime’s second half, which are filled to the brim with jaw-dropping plot twists.

The associations to the darker tale that My-HiME weaves come in early through “Looming Shadow’s” dissonant atmosphere cultivated by the strings, but become really apparent once “Prologue to the Darkness” makes its appearance. With a heavy dose of percussion resounding throughout, “Prologue’s” melody bodes ill, complete with a grimness heightened by the violin’s melancholy sound.

Prologue to the Darkness

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The anime’s darker moments also provides an opportunity for Kajiura to offer up some stylistically diverse tracks. One example of this is her use of Middle-Eastern tones to render a chaotic atmosphere through “Dance of Darkness.” She also puts in a Spanish flamenco in “Pale Pink Dance,” which not only possesses the energy associated with that lively dance form, but is also suspenseful, fitting that of a showdown between two implacable foes.

Pale Pink Dance

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No Kajiura soundtrack is complete without the epic choruses that ingrain themselves in one’s consciousness, and My-HiME is no exception. Though the “Summoning of Duran,” draws out the aura of mystery and suspense through the vocals, it’s really in “Mezame” that the chorus really thrives. The Spanish guitar from “Pale Pink Dance” leads us into the track and the singer follows shortly after with disconnected phrases that sound distant and mournful before the energy really pours in, first through the synth, then the chorus. “Mezame’s” execution of its chorus section is nigh-impeccable; the way it moves from the somber section to the lilting, anguish-filled arrangement of “Himeboshi” gives it an air of grandeur and encapsulates the epic magnitude of the conflict into a musical experience that’s absolutely unforgettable.

Mezame

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With all that “Mezame,” and indeed, this entire album, has going for it, it’s almost distressing to point out that one. Single. Track. The one that keeps this album from becoming a masterpiece, that is. I’m referring to none other than “It’s Only the Fairy Tale” which does the enjoyable instrumentation a disservice by spouting some of the most heavily-accented engrish I’ve ever had the misfortune of hearing. Yuko Miyamura’s stuffy-nosed delivery simply does not work here and this soundtrack would have been heaps better without it.

It’s Only the Fairy Tale

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It doesn’t change the fact that My-HiME is still my favorite Kajiura soundtrack to date. In taking us through the tumultuous events that transpire during the anime, Kajiura is able to weave a diverse mix of tracks that capture the carefree moods and the moments of sheer tragedy once events are set into motion. Through it all, the listening experience stays engaging and compelling, making this one a rare soundtrack for the ages and one that Kajiura fans should not skip out on.

Rating: Excellent

Tracklist

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Review: When an anime has great music, it can mean several things. The anime could be part of a popular franchise with the resulting large budget. It could be a genuine masterpiece crafted with the creativity and hard work of many people. Or, as Kannazuki no Miko taught me, it could be an overly melodramatic yuri show.

I decided to check out KnM after hearing some samples from its soundtrack and was rather surprised at what proceeded to unfold before my eyes. Containing absolutely everything known to occur in anime, from mecha to cat-girl nurses to love triangles, the whole mix was laughable. Despite this, the series was oddly entertaining in a so-bad-it’s-good way. The last episode even had me holding back emotional tears for Himeko and Chikane, the two girls whom the series revolves around. Perhaps I’m more susceptible to drama than I believe I am, but I like to think that the amazing score Mina Kubota composed had a role in keeping me watching the series to the end.

The soundtrack opens with the aptly named track “Kannazuki no Miko”. This piece does well to capture the true essence of the show; namely, the relationship between the girls and the duty they have been bound to by the gods. There is a melancholy bleakness in the woodwind melody, as if the music is lamenting the inevitable sacrifices the two will make. Near the end of the track, a trumpet proffers its voice, lending a sense of regal beauty to the tragic nature of the piece.

Kannazuki no Miko

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What’s a yuri drama without some angst? Not much. It’s a good thing excessive cheese makes music (as opposed to anything else) better, because KnM’s soundtrack is full of it. The aching utterances of the cello in “Hikisakareru Omoi” convey the agony of a heart in stark despair. Simply hearing the instrument grieve in its solitude causes one’s own heart to be weighed down with pensive woes. The piece perfectly embodies the bitter anguish the characters experience as they rail against the duty forced upon them by fate.

Hikisakareru Omoi

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However, amidst the angst and the impending end of the world, KnM is not without its happy moments. A cheerful setting is expressed in tracks such as “Hikari no Naka de”. The lively beat and the enthusiastic brass make it one of the most lighthearted tracks in the album, creating a joyful atmosphere free of troubles. In contrast to the energetic happiness expressed in “Hikari no Naka de,” “Yuki no Sei” captures the warm peace following calamity with a quiet and restrained piano solo. While the characters’ ability to experience outright joy has been dulled by past hardship, they find tranquil solace in the fact that they are simply in each other’s company for a fleeting moment.

Hikari no Naka De

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Yuki no Sei

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Despite the show’s heavy focus on the drama between the two main characters and a male love interest, there are still mecha piloting villains hanging about and generally making nuisances of themselves. Battle-scenes ensue, allowing Kubota to show off her prowess at composing action music. “Ankoku no Yami no Naka de” demonstrates Kubota’s ability to write gripping suspense music. An atmosphere of impending and imminent doom is created as ominous swells slowly increase in volume accompanied by the breathy cries of a despondent flute. In the distance, a deep and reverberating beat marches relentlessly onward, emphasizing the futility of escape. As the track approaches its end, the flute begins to frantically splutter as if writhing in the agonies of despair, losing all hope in the face of catastrophe.

Ankoku no Yami no Naka De

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Considering how ridiculous the conflicts were in the show, the authenticity of the battle music is something to marvel at. “Senkou no Kanata ni” begins with powerful string chords that echo into the intertwining silences and resonate into the listener’s very body. The strings act in the stead of percussion, setting up a driving pace. Soon the violins take up a propulsive theme which proceeds to morph into a soaring melody, expressing the strange beauty of perilous conflict.

Senkou no Kanata ni

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Although victory is eventually won after many hardships, it comes with a great price. “Namida to Izumi” manages to perfectly embody the bittersweet ending of the show. There is an overwhelming sense of sorrow as the piece laments the forced separation of the two lovers to the point where the instruments seem to cry out in sympathy. The music enters a hauntingly beautiful refrain of the theme originally expressed in the first track, “Kannazuki no Miko”, demonstrating that events have come full circle. The world has been saved, but at the cost of the seemingly eternal separation of its saviors.

Namida to Izumi

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Simply put, Kubota outdid herself with KnM’s music. Her ability as a composer is written all over this album. It’s an inconceivable travesty that the soundtrack was only sold with the limited edition version of the DVD release (which has been discontinued since). I can only continue to support Kubota’s other, purchasable, enterprises in the hopes that she produces something akin to KnM’s music once again.

Rating: Excellent

Tracklist

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Review: Finding that Satoru Kousaki anime score that works well within the anime is easy; it’s finding one that can be listened outside of it that is almost a fool’s errand. His music, while marvelous when accompanied by the action, rarely has the same impact on its own. The high hopes that build up when I listen to the BGM within the anime inevitably crash when I listen to his minimalistic soundtracks standalone, leaving me disappointed by the experience.

The similarities in the Kousaki listening experiences I’ve had have lowered my expectations when approaching his work. Caution was the order of the day when I decided to listen to and judge Ore no Imouto ga Konnani Kawaii Wake ga Nai’s soundtrack. Initially, Ore no Imouto’s setup as a dramedy didn’t look to be the kind of show that would force Kousaki to go beyond his musically minimalistic mold. But, fresh off composing Working!!’s OP, “Someone Else,” and (likely) providing feedback to and drawing inspiration from fellow MoNACA composer Keiichi Okabe’s efforts on Working!!’s soundtrack, Kousaki still hasn’t let go of the ska bug, and so, incorporates that style into Ore no Imouto’s score. The result: a soundtrack that, while not memorable, is nevertheless differentiable and delightful, standing well on its own while getting the job done in the anime.

You’ll recall that my impressions of Working!!’s soundtrack were lukewarm. Thankfully, Ore no Imouto represents the next evolutionary step in implementing ska into anime BGM. It helps that Kousaki’s compositions show a considerable amount of improvement over Okabe’s. The brass swells in tracks like “Ore no Imouto ga(ry” and the funky rhythms in “Baka Aniki!” all demonstrate familiarity with the style, but that alone wouldn’t have made this album as delightful a listen as it turned out to be. What sets him apart is the amount of development that goes into each track. Kousaki avoids the temptations of putting in repetitively boring melodies by developing them, which keeps the listening experience engaging throughout.

Ore no Imouto ga(ry

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Baka Aniki!

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Strong examples of development can be had in both “wktk” and “Akihabara March,” which would have been dull affairs if all they did was have the brass bursts sound out for the entire duration. “Wktk” uses the celebratory ska sounds from the brass section to start things off before transitioning to a piano solo that has a dash of the funk in the first half and dispenses with a snazzy display of ska piano music in the second to keep me rapt at attention. “Akihabara March’s” steady beat is repetitive, but full of flair. Good enough, but Kousaki’s development through the soloists, starting with the trumpet and ending with the saxophone, injects the piece with a happy, whimsical sound to complement the peppy marching rhythm.

wktk

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Akihabara March

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Though ska is what dominates Ore no Imouto’s soundtrack, other styles get a chance to shine too. One of the better examples of variety Kousaki offers up is in “Shinsou no Reijou” which has a wonderful waltzing atmosphere. The piece opens up with a nice, dainty violin part which segues into a piano melody so overflowing with grace and elegance that it shines with warmth and dignity.

Shinsou no Reijou

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The character themes are just as good in showing Kousaki’s compositional diversity. No free guesses as to what genre “Kuroneko no Tango” is aiming for since the title is a giveaway. Its strutting harmony radiates confidence, allowing the piano, violin, viola, and bandoneon to take their turns at crafting a melody filled with a hint of haughtiness, thereby capturing Kuroneko’s inflated sense of superiority. “Osananajimi,” depicting the earnest childhood friend Manami, is slow and simple, with a harmonica melody that’s easy on the ears as it cultivates a rustic, relaxing aura where one can simply let go of day to day drama and concerns and bathe in contentment.

Kuroneko no Tango

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Osananajimi

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You’ll notice that so far, all I’ve done is heap praise. Here’s the catch: for all the development that goes on, for all the stylistic variations that Kousaki puts in, none of this is particularly memorable. Ore no Imouto’s music has the unfortunate effect of glomming together into a giant blob. The large tracklist and similarities between the ska tracks are responsible for this problem. It’s telling when the most memorable track on this entire album is Yukari Tamura’s enthusiastic, upbeat delivery on “Meteo☆Impact,” which fits into the mold of an opening theme to a stereotypically cutesy magical girl anime. The energy that it brings along with its catchy melody renders it an unforgettable listen. Beyond that, the BGM’s stylistically indistinct melodies makes it hard to differentiate one track from the next, making it hard for me to listen to the album straight through.

Meteo☆Impact

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That said, it does mark the first time Kousaki has put together a soundtrack that’s enjoyable on a standalone basis. Listening to Ore no Imouto is a pleasant, even delightful experience. It just lacks that melodic hook that would make me want to listen to it more often. Now, whether Kousaki wants to craft a soundtrack with said hook, and in doing so, possibly jeopardizing the miscibility that his works have within the anime’s other attributes is something that only he can answer.

Rating: Good

Tracklist

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Review: Of the composers who’ve entered my radar in 2010, none have made a bigger splash than Yasuharu Takanashi. I was first exposed to his excellence in his Fairy Tail soundtrack, which featured a dazzling synthesis of Celtic tonality and rhythm set to rock. As delightful as that combination is, many would say that his forte lies in composing soundtracks to horror anime; my brief forays into Jigoku Shoujo’s score have supported this statement. In Shiki, Takanashi once again demonstrates his ability to weave a compelling horror atmosphere while conveying the scope of the tragedies that arise during the course of the anime.

Through “Day and Night,” the scenes for the tragedy are set. Its introduction, played using the glockenspiel and acoustic guitar, bear a melancholy tone, but it’s the vocalist’s entry that really nails the bleak mood. Normally, such a wispy, halting delivery would be cause for concern, but here, it works well in revealing the depths of the despair that settles upon the village. This atmosphere is further amplified by a grim violin passage that wouldn’t feel out of place at a funeral, reflecting the aura of death that hangs over Shiki’s setting. A calming chorus section comes in the second half and one might easily think it a reprieve from the haunting melody that preceded it if it didn’t feel so much like a benediction for the fallen. Its presence is soothing, carrying with it an air of acquiescence towards one’s fate and lingers there before the violin returns once more, with its mournful dirge.

Day and Night

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If “Day and Night” captures Shiki’s emotional side seeped in despair, it’s “Pendulum” that depicts the horror. Its dissonant chant is downright eerie, carrying an ominous tone fitting of some dark ritual. The piece isn’t content to let just one voice draw out the horror; gradually, more vocal parts enter the picture and the piece, with its heavy rhythm running through the background, crescendos, growing more threatening with each passing note, bringing a murderous atmosphere to the fore. And then there’s the creepy chuckles near the end which add to this chaotic air, until the ponderous melody, complete with an organ playing a haunted house theme, leaves one with no doubt that the village of Sotoba (Shiki’s setting) is doomed.

Pendulum

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Just as you think the end has come, “Crimson’s” heartfelt piano melody hearkens to happier times, granting a reprieve from all the darkness. The track is seeped in contentment, traipsing along without a care in the world, and in the process, conveys that brief, intimate, and charming moment.

Crimson

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Unfortunately, it’s just far too short as “Eau de Vie” returns us to the action with a heavy dramatic track suggestive of covert actions taking place with the goal of bringing about Sotoba’s doom. Here, you’ll notice that Takanashi recycles the general melodic structure from “Day and Night,” setting it to a faster tempo so as to convey the scope of the Shiki’s (the show’s chief protagonists) nocturnal activities. Once again, the chorus serves to heighten the creepy factor that, along with the strings, form a dynamic rich in grim and foreboding tones while maintaining a mournful air in the face of the tragedies which continue to mount with dizzying speed.

Eau de Vie

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The extent of these nightly activities are fully manifested through a tension-filled “Muddy Water,” which seems to draw inspiration from Shoji Meguro’s Persona soundtracks. This track utilizes a heavy dose of synth early on as well as a moaning sound to nail the horror, but that’s nowhere as notable as the beatboxing that follows shortly after. I’m not quite sure why Takanashi went this route aside from it being a popular device to illustrate the chaos and uncertainty that the humans find themselves in as the shiki’s plans roll into action. The electric guitar and bass feature heavily here and there’s even a bit of R&B (hence, the comparison to Persona) to add to the confusing fabric. All this gibbering matches with Shiki’s atmosphere, but it’s a bit too in-your-face for my liking and not something I’d listen to without the context.

Muddy Water

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The mini album then closes out with the introspective, yet emotional “Mosaic,” which, once again, takes the melody from “Day and Night” and sets it to a piano and glockenspiel duet. This arrangement works out well, bringing out the extent of the despair and the loneliness that afflicts humans and shiki alike. The internal struggle manifested through this piece’s lonely theme is a perfect reflection of Seishin Muroi’s ongoing depression, captured poignantly through its tragic aura that continues to linger. There is a bit of closure, but the conclusion it depicts is rather depressing, which is not a surprise in light of the unfolding tragedies as shiki hunts man and man himself becomes a monster.

Mosaic

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It’s just a shame then, that we’re not getting a standalone soundtrack that fully encompasses, in music, the events that transpire in Shiki. Takanashi’s efforts in weaving a horror atmosphere and unveiling the tragedies have been solid thus far, and I thirst for more of what he has to offer up.

Rating: Very Good

Disc 1

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Disc 2

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Review: Possibly my favorite show of all time, FLCL is something very close to my heart, so, unsurprisingly, I find it difficult to review its soundtrack with the editorial impartiality that it deserves. That said, no praise is ever unwarranted, nor is any OST without its faults, and that is certainly the case here.

Much of the compositional credit for this soundtrack goes to The Pillows, a Japanese alternative rock band. Formed in 1989, The Pillows have proven time and time again that rock music can be deeply affecting and a lot of fun without turning the distortion to 11 or resorting to unintelligible primal screaming. Their songs are marked by careful layering and thoughtful two-guitar interplay that is almost unheard of in contemporary Western rock, showing surprising levels of sophistication without exhibiting the tiresome repetition and lazy songwriting that plague recent rock songs. Unlike those of many English-speaking bands, Sawao Yamanaka’s vocals sound honest and genuine, never angst-ridden or whiny. Those elements, combined with their good-natured, soul-searching lyrical style and overall persona, match the tone of FLCL perfectly.

Ride on shooting star

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The Pillows’ representation on these two discs consists of full songs and edits/remixes of selections taken off the albums Little Busters, Runners High, and Happy Bivouac, the final three albums of their so-called “golden age.” Notable immediately is the one song The Pillows specially composed for the show: “Ride on shooting star.” Lasting barely over two-minutes, the song is a blunt explosion of brash energy and punchy riffs that nary stops for a breath. Though it lacks a true guitar solo (a rarity for a non-edited Pillows tune), the song is simplistic and effective without overstaying its welcome. Interesting to note is the liberal use of extended interval chord tones in the melody and the harmony, characteristic of Yamanaka’s songwriting style at the time. There are lots of major sevenths and sharp ninths to be had, and, boy, are they fun to pick out.

Carnival

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“Carnival” has since become a Pillows classic and is regarded as one of their standout hits. The version included here is an edited and shortened version with the vocals removed. Despite featuring tight instrumentals and impressive guitar synchronization, “Carnival” in its edited state just doesn’t work without its vocals. Perhaps it’s due to the generic chord progression, but this edit somehow feels like a demotion to being pleasing background music. Regardless, this song is an example of the long-running Pillows tradition of inserting tidbits of pleasantly surprising sophistication into their compositions. Here, the entire guitar intro is written entirely in parallel fifths. For those who subscribe to the outdated 15^th-century “rule” of avoiding parallel fifths, I would respond by quoting composer Samuel R. Hazo: “WELCOME TO THE TWENTY-FIRST CENTURY.” While this sort of harmony can come off as strange or off-putting, The Pillows make the intro sound good, and there’s nothing more to be said in this day and age of music. (See this video for an excellent explanation of why people are taught to avoid parallel fifths.)

Bran-new lovesong

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Bran-new lovesong [FULL] [For comparison; not on the disc]

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Whereas “Carnival” was adversely affected by editing, “Bran-new lovesong” is a case where removing the vocals and tightening up the length worked very well. With the vocals removed, one can really appreciate the thought put into the instrumentals, which are too often overpowered by Sawao’s singing.  The song has a very ethereal, “life goes on” vibe that is signature of the Pillows’ work around this time. Shinichirou Sato’s drumming really shines here, while Yoshiaki Manabe’s lead guitar is artfully restrained and subdued. Much of the mood of the song comes from a very interesting I-III-vi-IV progression that is not often heard in many compositions. This song (edited or not) is among my favorite Pillows tunes, as it explores themes like self-realization, coping with loss, and the ups and downs of everyday life.

While I could explore every intricacy of every Pillows song here, I’ll keep it short and say that every one of their songs on FLCL’s soundtrack holds the standard of excellence they exhibited around this time. From the rockabilly “Crazy Sunshine” to the simply excellent “Funny Bunny” to the iconic “Little Busters” and “Hybrid Rainbow,” there are few misses by them gathered here, especially in an unedited state.

Crazy Sunshine

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Funny Bunny

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Little Busters

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Hybrid Rainbow

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Often overlooked on this soundtrack are Shinkichi Mitsumune’s pieces, which fill in the parts where a guitars n’ drums affair wouldn’t have been appropriate. Ranging from soft acoustic guitar and piano numbers to electronica dance pieces, his efforts here are effective and competent, if a bit generic and derivative.

Rever’s Edge

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Pink

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As much as his contributions worked superbly in context and are in no way incompetent, I can’t shake the feeling that his tracks wallow in genre tropes and aren’t very fun to listen to. “Rever’s Edge” sounds like another Elton John tearjerker that never was, while “Pink” is about 10 notches too far on the mindless techno side of things for my tastes. “Memory of Summer” starts out well but is marred by a baffling similarity to a certain song sung by a tea kettle in Beauty and the Beast. “High Risk” just makes me wonder why they didn’t just use a Pillows song instead, while “Weekend” seems to draw inspiration from the soundtracks of makeup infomercials. Despite all this, the inoffensive, ordinary demeanor of these songs is largely why they were so successful in their implementation in the show. These tracks were meant to unobtrusively set the mood in a way where the licensed band couldn’t, and, for that reason, I can only shrug my shoulders and acknowledge they did what they set out to do, without being anything more.

Memory of Summer

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High Risk

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Weekend

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The biggest demerit to this original soundtrack, though, is that it is not an entirely original soundtrack. As fitting and as fantastic as The Pillows are, the soundtrack’s execution feels like Gainax took the easy way out by not creating a brand-new score for the show; much the same experience can be had by just buying regular Pillows albums, which will obviously contain only full-length tracks. That said, the approach taken to the soundtrack took a lot of guts and remains a unique experience to this day. As a result, the discs achieve a level of re-playability that OSTs rarely do.

Another Morning

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Oh, yeah, and I really like The Pillows.

Rating: Excellent