Final Fantasy VII "Quiet Wish" 4:59

For Nobuo Uematsu's birthday today, we're also proud to present a particularly contemplative Final Fantasy VII tribute, Rebecca E. Tripp's lonesome, ambient odyssey:

"This is my arrangement of "Interrupted by Fireworks" from Final Fantasy 7, originally composed by Nobuo Uematsu. This whole part of the game does indeed feel almost like "a memory of itself" containing all of the simultaneous joy and sadness of Cloud and his friends. I feel the most sad when I think about Aeris/Aerith, whose moments of true happiness, just for herself, were few, despite her naturally sunny disposition.

I think this song might have been the only way I could really communicate something that's been trapped inside me throughout much of my life. There's this impenetrable loneliness that I think we all experience, at least some of the time. For many, human companionship just seems so far away, and all too often that same feeling of isolation heightens during moments of celebration. I believe I composed this song simply to acknowledge that part within myself, who has always wanted to be seen, and yet the emotion was just too "big" to express in words. Almost nothing quite captures it for me like FF7 (particularly this song), and I tried my best to use the components of the remix to explain this "big" feeling: the isolation, the hope, the faith, a distant awareness of community, and a simple desire for them (whoever they are) to be loved, and, of course, grief, tender memories of joy, the suddenness of separation and promise of death, and, ultimately, the vastness of eternity.

I suppose I wanted my loneliness to make others feel less alone. I wholly agree about this whole idea of us all being a kind of mosaic. It's like an interconnected puzzle, in which no single piece could ever fulfill its purpose without the extension and support of the others, and inside which everyone's joy, suffering, achievements, and mistakes are one continuum. Some pieces appear to be more "interesting" or "unique" or "purposeful" than the others, but that's really an illusion: separateness is the greatest illusion of all - of course, we all feel it anyway, because we're inside this illusion together!"

Judge Hemophiliac traveled with Tripp's trip, noting the excellent execution of her careful construction:

"This certainly is a departure from your usual soft-orchestral style. A pleasant surprise!

Sparse, yet evocative. Lonely, but at the same time hopeful.

The ambience in this is oppressive, and likely the biggest contributing factor to the feeling of loneliness. With very little harmonic or tonal material in the lows, the top end is left to carry the burden of the melody. In a way, I feel like this is too sparse, but at the same time you could not create the same emptiness and emotion without being sparse. I would have liked this to get fuller at some point or had more going on in the low-end tonally, but I can't argue with the result. Yes, that's a criticism, but your artistry still comes through regardless. [...] Full dynamic while still remaining sparse and quiet.

I think people will be surprised when they hear this, Rebecca; as I was. Moving."

Tripp's soundscape stays pretty steady, yet it's a heck of a transformation, a diminutive mood piece that binds you in a big way. Now, I've already shared a loud wish of mine with Nobuo, and as a result, he put me in a full nelson at MAGFest. (True story!!! We're both pro wrestling fans! :-D) But my quiet wish on this celebratory day is that we're all united in a love for art and creativity, particularly in appreciation for the positive, outsized impact Uematsu-san's had on our lives. As illusory as it may seem, during the highest highs and the lowest lows, we're indeed all connected, even though we can feel so, so alone, exactly as Rebecca noted. Heady stuff, this music thang. :-)