Polo

Those badass drums panned left at the start are in their own clique and don't take guff from anyone. But then they're blown away by the storm that is 0:14. This is the oomph that Catapult capitalizes on most of the way. The quieter sections carry a more "buoyant" momentum than the wall-of-sound sections, but they're no less captivating. It sounds like the drum echoes at 0:30 and 3:28 are shuddering in anticipation of the returning BOOM, amusingly. 1:11-1:13 offers some fresh and much obliged cymbal tappin' before we go streamlining. When the lead plays at 1:27 and 3:36, I'm led to believe that key notes were chosen and sustained to facilitate smooth sailing through the electrifying soundscape. The first 4/5 notes are the hook, and the tail end drops 5 notes from the source. The whistle-y synth that pops up at 0:57 and 3:21 carries more off-the-wall notes from the source, probably because it isn't bound to act as the sole focus. And at last the chorus at 1:55 and 3:49 plays by the book, capping off the arrangement/driving it home. Play it loud and play it proud.

The seamless flow of this mix is a godsend. Pure-sounding instruments like the maiden-touched harp, ingenuous flute, and somber cello play what they have to play, unhurried and with no qualms. Meanwhile, the cool breeze-like bell sweeps, easeful strings, and holy choir foster smooth transitions. And the drumwork is either thunderous, campfire-festive, or snackalicious depending on what the soundscape is asking for. Then there's the arrangement. After studying where parts of the source pop up, I appreciate how they're ordered and how the original (but stylistically similar) writing connects them. Here's where I hear the source in the mix: 0:06-0:22 (source) --> 0:11-0:22 + 2:14-2:26 + 4:49-5:02 (mix) 0:39-1:10 (source) --> 2:45-3:20 + 3:50-4:38 (mix) There are no jarring moments, though it sounds like a beat is skipped at 0:30 and some whispering goes on around 4:43. They don't hinder the flow or detract from the overall quality; they're simply quirks that I give a nod to every listen. A masterfully crafted work.

The party percussion has a lovingly intricate startup pattern, which unfortunately is too short and hands the floor to the leads too easily. The leads themselves are an odd match: one moodily sways to and fro and the other shines with a smile that's oblivious to the activity around it. I would've liked a key change somewhere in there, or at least more of the level startup or game over songs (0:02-0:05 and 2:22-2:25 respectively). Still, Dig Dug sure sounds peppy for an underground lurker pumping hot air into fire-breathing Fygars and bug-eyed Pookas.

Temple Trance makes me picture Link zooming his way through a multitude of false walls, mirrors, and alternate dimensional portals in one of the palaces. He's fleeing Wizrobes, Moas (those flying eyeballs), an Ironknuckle statue that looked at him funny, and other spooky enemies while being haunted and taunted by images of the helplessly sleeping Zelda. The source's feeling of "you can run but you can't hide" is seriously ramped up here. The DSP/modulation in just the first several seconds is a mesmerizing hook. It's the first of many instances of a synth given a gradual volume tweak, which in my mind plays the part of a distance marker that approaches and recedes on Link's warped-out journey. At 4:30, he comes to realize he can't for the life of him find his way back, and so he fades into oblivion. Progressive and dreamscapish.

I respect the conscientious choices of 1) soothing instruments, 2) pulling back the tempo, and 3) highlighting mainly the first of every three notes in the source's 3/4 time signature. Together, these aspects craft some cinematic and maudlin funeral music. The flute, bells, and strings work seamlessly together, bonded by their grief. They paint a desolate, foggy land where I remember, and say goodbye to, someone who was close to me. Halfway through, the trailing horn calls out to the departed soul, and at the end it touches the last note so poignantly it hurts. Just... hurts. Chicken soup for the soul right here.

At any given moment, synth/texture modulation is subtle but purposeful, turning the sounds into menacing creatures of the night. A boogeyman guitar, howling strings, snickering rat percussion (love the way it sounds like a closing mouth at 1:41-1:45 and elsewhere), and ambience like cutting wind and ogre breaths are a few pieces that embellish everything alluring about Halloween. Even the beat never drops its lightly danceable groove. By 4:41, the arrangement's had enough of the source being blown around almost inaudibly, so a new electronic synth takes the lead and plays the final part of Magus's theme, accompanied by clapping, popcorn-like percussion. At 5:19, the mix is slowly swallowed by the same poisonous mist that obscures the moon. Looks like it's gonna be one loooooooooong night.

Naruto subs (with source links for quick comparison)... Rock Lee Gaara Jiraiya LT: Not feeling the last one, and I know I've bitched about a past Rock Lee sub looking kind of pixelated/over-sharpened, but it seems like we can't get anything smoother, so let's roll with the rest. Thanks!

Cursed Piano repackages the arid, drowsy source as a story to be told rather than a drag through the desert. Places like 1:00+ use the niches between key melodic notes as rearrangement space, while other iterations are more straightforward but sorrowful. 1:54-2:23 ups the mood and sounds like a graceful ballet recital. 2:53-3:37 reminds me of one of the early songs in Dragon Warrior 3, for some reason. In the last minute or so, the piano seems to beg: "Do I really have to stop? Please, let me keep going. Just a little more..." It utilizes a slow tempo, up-the-scale runs, and delayed notes as if mulling over its own pains and regrets, searching for some hint of warmth within itself, stalling the inevitable for as long as possible. It's almost a chilling parable for death.

Emoticons.

First, a belated thanks for fixing the "view all" links next to "Latest ReMixes" on the Organization pages. Now it appears those same links in the "Games" subsection are missing the slash mark / between the company and "games" (e.g. capcomgames should be capcom/games like in the tab up top).

From start to finish, Danger in Remlia brims with a lively hop-step, melodically and percussion-wise. It's more emotionally arresting than the source, enunciating the perils of war, or a solo outing for the first time, or the perceived impossibility of rescuing a girl who only appears in dreams. Otherworldly synths, sweeping arpeggios, and the choir are the major transporting keys. The choir emboldens my spirit and warns me that I could join the lost souls who've died defending Remlia if I'm not careful. 3:38 feels so final; it's like I've reached Blackhorn's castle already (which is fitting, since this song also plays during the cutscene before the last boss fight). If this mix were to voice any of Astyanax's thoughts, it would be: "Wait for me, Princess Rosebud!"

This mix borrows the source's starting lead + percussion combo and builds off/around it, eventually coming free of the MOD sounds by 1:49 (although that haunting square wave returns at 2:20). First we get some cutely panned cosmic sounds, then a gently playful bass slap, a gummy bass synth, and some oldschool blips (2:52) to play off the beat, among other things. By this point the key change is more than welcome and makes the tone of the track more uplifting. Because the mix is pleasurably groove-based like the source, the fadeout ending feels natural, but a bit too quick. While not exactly daring as a rearrangement, this mix certainly adds to the original's feel of a meditative/lonely/mysterious trek.

A light, jumpy bass, a humming wilderness pad, and frog croaks usher us into a bog. It feels murky at first, but soon a lot of playful synths start hopping about. Every lead displays its own character: the 1st (0:16, 1:15) is whiny and dopey, the 2nd (0:46, 2:15) is bubble-deep in concentration, and the 3rd (2:45) is a shimmery gold that makes the bog all the more mist-erious. Shakers, cymbals, crashes, and cross-panned industrial tidbits like to emphasize how the percussion is the gearwork driving the mix along. Things end like an airplane landing in the bog, realizing too late that there's no escape. The lead is on high alert as percussion pieces sink in one after another, and then when it's one of the last survivors, it gets swallowed whole by the wilderness. And let's not forget the frog belches. I've been reading a lot of Naruto lately, and I can't help but picture Gamabunta and Gamakichi doing the two amphibious voice-overs in this mix. The first paints the setting and marks the end of each iteration of the source. The second, which only enters at 0:52 - 0:57+, 1:52 - 1:57+, and 2:22 - 2:27+, is my favorite quirky sound in the mix. It makes a few shrimpy pouts, then it livens up like it's saying "wait, wait, what?... Yeah?..." And then it bounces happily to the beat. So cute.

Simply put, this is: - a crafty/deceptive take on the Forest Area - a fade-into-thin-air take on the Ending Theme à la pizzicato - fun to tap/drum my fingers alongside the warm guitar strings, especially the "1-2-3-4, 1234-5" quadruplets (not triplets!) - the ReMix equivalent of a massage: soft, soothing, and hits just the right spots - one of my all-time favorite ReMixes

The soundscape makes me feel like I'm at a stressfully busy air base, set in a desertous wasteland, watching jets rip and roar in a sky-to-outer-space air show. Sound effect-wise, it's thanks to the radio-garbled voice clip, the Doom/Starcraft machinery, and the broken oxygen tank at 0:25 that pushes the mix into full throttle. There's also the overall reverb, particularly on the lead synths, constantly emitting aural heat waves. Even so, it's not all same-y or hectic. The leads flex their vowel enunciations, percussion players pop in and drop out, and even the raw, gritty guitars change some of their notes around to sound downcast at 2:28 and imploring at 4:27. The piano is perhaps the most influential, adding a dash of gentle reassurance amidst the chaos. A head-bobbingly sonic boom-ish take on an otherwise mellow and mysterious source tune.

The arrangement's bold dynamics promise a surprise around every corner, through every transition, and in every section. First, the piano starts as fragile as a flower, soon growling a grudge, meandering in a state of uncertainty, and then going "!" before the strings rain down like evil minions. It only gets more chaotic from there. Some of the synths act like Eve's bastard children: slimy, stretchy, bubbly, mutating... and badass by extension. The declarative brass swells leading Influence of the Deep seem to hand the reins to more than one instrument in order to balance the load. Speaking of which, the strings and piano are made for each other, playing off the other's parts for maximum intimacy. All the while, emotions ride the semi-climactic builds and crashes, and impromptu percussive quips transfer/transform the energy of the mix more wildly and proficiently than mitochondria ever could. Twice more does the piano dominate. At the halfway point, it's subdued but purposefully contemplative. In the end, it's like a forgone/indecisive conclusion that invites the listener's input. PMS discombobulates, but in a good way.

One problem with that: the OCR-tans don't have any game appearances. That was one of the reasons you shot down the Nice Work guy.

Bass beats and claps set the bouncy ground at the start, saying "check it, we got attitude." The ear-ringing whistle and pizzicato following them give the mix an urgent invitation akin to "now gather 'round and listen to my story about my beloved nigga." A reed organ supports the chorus like a parent offering adequate space for his/her child to explore the world around it. The windpipe-like synth at 0:40 seems sly but serious, as if cautioning "there's more to this story than meets the eye." The solo guitar halfway through offers a couch-lounging break to reflect upon things, and the piano appearing after that is a new bass solidifier and mood lightener. Even the octave rise from the source is saved for the end, bringing the sense of niggahood to a closer level. All the while, the beat flows on, confident in its danceability and quietly grinning to itself when it learns another person has been caught up in its contagious net. The lyrics are so well put together that even when they're slightly asynchronous with the beat, they smoothly pour their energy (in rhyme and tone) into the next words. Many lines are both clever and hilarious, but the ones that really speak to me are: "Till every Roman soldier bow downs" - a heartfelt wish and goal of every Gaul, to be sure. "I waste half a language" - sounds like Obelix cusses up a storm as he struggles out of his Roman prison cage. "Tallest blade of grass is the first to get shit upon" - life lesson right there. Not just the words, but the vocals are equally all over the map, panned left, right, and center as they playfully change tones and pitches with abandon. A wacky masculinity haunts the chorus, Obelix starts with a lungful of helium before running out of breath (don't worry, he's just "wasting half a language" ), and even Julius Caesar deigns to note his source of discomfort with a haughty wrinkle of his nose. And of course I love every smartass quip, grunt, laugh, moan, and ad-lib sound effect that rides on the mainstream rapping. They're the donut sprinkles of the mix, coloring the camaraderie both raw and pure. The lightsaber-ish "bzz-bzz" when Star Wars is referenced, the hurriedly echoed "12-pack of maxi pads!", the howling during Dogmatix's part, the guttural "Amon~ Ra~", the yells of "IT'S ASTERIX!", "dinnertime" instead of "day or night" near the end... smiles all around. They practically comprise a separate song in themselves. While it's not crystal-polished in terms of production, I've grown to love every idiosyncrasy that Niggaz 4 Life has to offer. zyko and Ubik had a ball crafting this mix, and I enjoy listening to it. Now every time I reach the bonus level in the NES game, I laugh and sing the lyrics of this mix. One love indeed. <3

For me, these elements make the mix: Dual electric guitars (start) - Simultaneously mellow and upbeat. Clapping drums (0:06) - Seriously, these drums sound like claps. Weird but cool. Cross-panned drum quotes (every so often) - Gotta admire how they fuel the mix's momentum. Bass (0:12) - A vibrant, balancing heart. Golden synth (0:36, 2:16) - It sounds like it came from an electric guitar touched by King Midas. Crashing Boom Bang attack (1:17, 2:59) - a.k.a. drum+cymbal clash, it's a welcoming bomb to drop out of nowhere. Piano (1:25) - Such icicle-cool improv. And these are the things I can't get into: Unharmonica (0:11) - Something about the way it warbles loosely makes me feel icky. Brass (1:00) - Despite its noble intentions, it plays its notes in a plain/tacky manner. The breakdown into slow silence (1:46 - 1:52) - It saps the mix of energy and drags my mood down with it. Trombone (1:53) - There's a slight breath right before it starts playing, which is obvious in the silence of the false ending it follows; a risky first impression. It also gets overpowering, especially near the end. The arrangement on the whole - This isn't the ReMixer's fault; I never got into Plok's Main Theme to begin with, and if the ReMixer wants to keep/expand upon the feel of the source, you can't argue with his choice.

The chill groove, spacious soundscape, and production dynamics are lively strengths of Sexy Trunks. Welcoming piano chords, a funky organ bass, and some kiss-tender drum taps paint the exquisite splendor of the casino nightlife. The bass does a tireless job complimenting/adding to the other instruments, particularly the piano. The sax is a cherry-sweet lead, although its beauty gets muddled when more instruments are present. I like how the reed organ has a way of taking the preceding vibe and channeling it single-handedly; it seems like a wise choice to bring it in after the initial instruments. Also, the baton-transferring energy from the reed to the string swells near the end makes me feel like I'm one with the nightlife. The arrangement feels hesitant at times, or like it's fishing for some elbow room. It basically sticks to its groove while taking few risks. Maybe that's why I really like the break/directional turn at 2:51, which starts to say it's time to wrap things up, count your chips, and go home. In a mix like this, the instruments basically speak for themselves.

This sounds like it came out of some warped, robotic, vertigo-dimensional future - which, considering this is F-Zero, is quite fitting. A couple of synths practice their vowel pronunciations, some vibrate as a way of life, others do sneak attacks through volume and panning... it's a patchwork of experimental production that turns out deli-sauce. I particularly dig the expressive breaks at 1:10 and 2:40, as well as how previous riffs/sections act as a countermelodic balance beneath the silvery leads. The beef of the source, entering at 1:33, is played in a sort of off-octave manner (not distinctly higher or lower than normal), ditching the original's grandiose, prize-money-is-at-stake feel for something more along the lines of "Captain Falcon's joyride." He's groovin' to the electronica on his hovercar's stereo, leaping off a cliff/ramp when he gets a hilarious case of Radio Treble Syndrome at 2:08 and crashing back on track at 2:14. Then he crosses the finish line - alone - beating his previous time trial ghosts that come whizzing past a second or two later.

Soft piano chords enter my head. I open my eyes and realize I'm the only customer sitting in a pub. The piano seems unaware of my presence as it idly explores its thoughts on Makoto's electro-nightclub source tune. When it sees it has an audience, it breaks into a spunkier tempo, accompanied by a roll of cymbal taps and a light but firm bass. A quick burst and fade of drumwork from the source teases me with a taste of the energy to come. String swells freshen the atmosphere as gin and other tonics are served to new customers. Jungle-feverish percussion jumps into the fray going "Where's the party? Where's the party?" while a one-note organ, despite its position off to the right, faithfully plays its beats. There's enough listeners by now, so the jazzy piano plays the source more confidently while the percussion baits my taste buds. Wanting in on the fun, a bell-xylophone turns up the "class" factor while maintaining the jazzy, laid-back feel. Deciding that it's time, the drumwork from earlier makes a showstopping, boom-diggity appearance. In its wake comes a set of 8-bit boom-crunches to throw the hardcore boozehounds for a loop. By now everybody knows your name and my name and the name of everyone playing the music. Things are chill, convivial, and altruistic by the time the piano and co. belt out a second helping of the source. Things fade out once I've had too much to drink. Aw well. 'Twas a lively performance. I'll pay the bartender when I awaken...

DragonAvenger touched upon this issue in the review thread, but I'll say it here for good measure. This mix is faithfully labeled "Super Metroid MaridiaRemix" on the surface, but the tagged info only says "Metroid Maridia" (in the file and in Winamp).

The title isn't exactly misleading. After all, there's two areas where Maridia sounds like Red Brinstar (glass tunnel near Kraid's lair, anyone?). Indeed, this mix has a water-worldly feel to it - or perhaps a new age-y feel. The electro-triangle and rising sweeps in the intro detail and expand the seductive likeness of an aquarium. Especially during the quieter sections, there's an abstract beauty left by the candy-sweet synth that comes in at 1:26. The pseudo-choir and the buzzy synth often play the same notes at the same time, but the latter tends to overpower the former. As a result, I'm more annoyed than awed by their combo attacks. Overall, the techno bass and D'n'beats are simplistic, but unhurried in their methods of clear-cut assimilation with the lead synths. Pretty sugar-smooth for an oldie.

FACT: djp's intonation summons maximalist amounts of awesome in 46 seconds. (Also, 0:15 sounds like "Donut, donut, donut...") I like how it acts as a shout-out to the whispering (see what I did there) evident in the original song. In such a bountiful sound field, the flute, strings, and piano gently paint the groove a pleasurable color. (The cello sample has a faint jitter-inducing loop set upon it, but it's only noticeable at the start, so it doesn't detract too much.) One of the pervasive pads sounds like one's ears are ringing (odd choice, but charming). When the flute sings a sad/longing verse at 1:51 and 3:29, I'm filled with awe and wonder. Meanwhile, 2:27 employs some liberal synth and drum synergy, like a complex network of pipes assembling themselves. And I'll never get tired of that hot spring-bubbly bass synth. Finally, it makes me smile when I come across a "speaksynth" that djp gleefully employs in some of his older mixes; here, it pops up at 1:05, displaying style, spunk, and sleekness as it warps its mind and body for the good of the groove.