"Gauntlet Legends" is, without question, the best game in the Gauntlet series, and an example of a sequel done right. It took what worked in the previous iterations while refining and adding loads of fun new content and gameplay. 

Musically, the game reflects that same evolution. 

"Gauntlet Legends" has an interesting, varied score throughout, but the Title Screen / Character Select theme is especially cool, as it is a relatively complex rendition of the original "Gauntlet" theme. Truthfully, there's another great version of this theme in one of the final stages, "The Desecrated Temple," which is more reminiscent of the mood that the original had (with the addition of Gregorian chanting to make it more eerie) but this particular track exemplifies how versatile the score in this game is:

It wouldn't be "Gauntlet" without some organ music leading the pack, but the pounding timpani in the background is a great addition. The militaristic snare that form the backbone of the percussion is a neat new choice, and make the player feel like they are about to march into an extraordinary series of battles and sieges. The ominous horns and huge chime hits that follow the initial main lick were smart decisions by the composer, as they musically paint the dreary, undead picture that "Gauntlet Legends" embodies.

The deep chorus that essentially moans the next sequence only further further adds to the chilling, haunting portrait that the theme continues to paint, although it has a very faint, heroic air to it. The calming guitar that follows over the snare and chorus is another unique choice, whose juxtaposition only makes the return to the "Gauntlet" theme proper all the more satisfying. 

The rest of the score echoes the supernatural, ominous vibe pioneered in this theme, and adds to an already great game. 

With the alien invasion slowly-but-surely starting to take its toll on the collective psyche of the world, XCOM will need to take the fight to these dangerous creatures and eliminate the threat. 

Here at XCOM, we have a collection of the world's best operatives, trained in xeno-combat and given access to the deadliest weapons and most protective armor ever made by mankind.

​Meet your team. 

The world has not been kind to Mr. Howard. As a youth, he braved the dangerous Trump Wall and escaped the treacherous Mexican wastes to make a new life in America. After joining the American military in a coup to overthrow the dangerous despot, Trump, the aliens invaded and Jorge was selected to become part of the XCOM Project. 

A successful, but reclusive, author living out his days traveling, Darren was one of the first to experience the alien invasion first hand. In a botched abduction attempt, Darren's campsite was sieged by two creatures, at which point he purportedly proclaimed "welcome to the slaughterhouse, bitch" and proceeded to pummel the two xenos to death. Shortly after joining the XCOM project, he was sent on its inaugural mission. Although he achieved no kills during that sortie, he's confident that record will change. 

After Trump declared himself "Eternal Dictator" and led a rabid coup against the former American government, Stefan was one of the first to reject the new order. Using a love for comic book heroes, his approach involved vigilante strikes against Trump's most trusted Grand Moffs. In the years following the overthrow of the "Eternal Dictator," Stefan's combat skill caused him to be a shoe-in for the XCOM Project. 

A former film composer, the recent "abduction mania" began to cause a paranoia that he could not shake. Along with his arsenal of guitars and keyboards, he slowly built one of firearms. After the first abduction was clearly caught crystal-clear on camera, he joined a local, anti-xeno militia. Before long, his skill (and musical repertoire) caught the eyes and ears of the XCOM Project. 

Squaddie Grodzki was one of the first members of the XCOM team. Years before the abduction epidemic, Steve's research and insight into the xeno-threat was unparalleled. Due to his wide range of combat and survival skills, he helped create the anti-xeno combat maneuvers that each member of XCOM is trained in to this day. When the XCOM Project was officially activated due to the abduction epidemic, Steve was on the very first combat mission, where he achieved a solitary kill. The first of many, without a doubt.

While pursuing further education, Rachel was visiting her ancestral castle in Scotland when the first tangible alien abduction cause came to light in North America. Only days later did Scotland face its extraterrestrial fears with their own case of an attempted, dreaded abduction. Rachel, along with locals, entered Castle Callander, barricaded it, and fought off the encroaching beings until they fled. Her quick-thinking, fearlessness and leadership ability earned her a welcome spot in XCOM's barracks.

Not unlike Mr. Wilson, Joseph Prescott earned his living through the art of the written word. In an ironic twist of fate, whilst completing the final installment of a sci-fi series in which a detective in a colonized solar system discovered an impending extra-galactic threat, Mr. Prescott bore witness to an alien scurrying through the streets of Philadelphia, directly out his window. His police report was disregarded as "preposterous," but as more reports began to flood in, he was vindicated. He soon chose to put down the pen and ink and pick up an assault rifle with high-caliber magazines with XCOM.

A gold-medal Olympic wrestler, Joseph McCauley was increasingly disturbed by reports of suspicious beings in his neighborhood. While training for the upcoming games, the unthinkable happened: Every person in his development, including his wife and children, disappeared without a trace. Swearing revenge, he signed up for the military. Before he could sent to boot camp, he was stopped by an XCOM agent and inducted into the secretive Project. Full-Nelsons have taken a backseat to frag grenades and rifles, but McCauley is still a force to be reckoned with. 

Actor-turned-activist, Joseph Walter had been paranoid about the extraterrestrial threat for years. Constantly bemoaning the world governments for not "doing enough" to put planetary defenses in place while instead squabbling over pointless terrestrial disputes, Mr. Walter caught the eye of the XCOM Project, who hurriedly inducted him. Deployed on the inaugural combat mission, Joseph Walter achieved three kills, but suffered battle-wounds in the process, sending him to the hospital for 6 days. 

Dear Commanders,

I know it's been some time, but all preparations are nearly in place to get our coordinated defense of Earth started! 

I had asked the interested parties where our XCOM Base should be located, but thought it would be best to ask again with a legitimate poll, which you'll find below.

Our options are...

1) North America: All aircraft and aircraft weapons cost 50% less to purchase, build and maintain.
2) Europe: Laboratories and Workshops cost about 50% less to build and maintain.
3) Asia: All projects in the Foundry and the Officer Training School cost 50% less.
4)South America: Autopsies and interrogations are completed instantly.
5) Africa: Monthly XCOM funding increased by 30%

As I previously mentioned, I typically go for North America, as the lowered cost of interceptors and satellites can go along way to curbing panic and striking first against the malevolent invaders. But the choice is not mine. It's ours. 

And now, a more pressing matter: The day of the week that works best for the majority of us. Yes, time will be an issue, but we'll tackle that when the... time... comes. 

I'm aiming for maybe one or two hour-long sessions a week, but we'll see adapt to the needs of the Council (you guys!)

Lastly, if you know anyone else who might be interested in joining in on this destined romp, feel free to let them know about it! 

While all of the "Weekly Soundchecks" so far have been focused on video game music, this entry is going to shake things up by featuring a fairly unknown (in the U.S., at least) television theme song! 

"Star Fleet" is an odd duck, and one I discovered entirely by accident. For reasons I could never be able to totally explain, I was binging through 80's cartoon theme songs during my Freshman year of college, and after hours of things I knew like Thundercats, and others I did not ("Vytor: The Starfire Champion," featuring a singing Peter Cullen. Yes, the Peter Cullen that is Optimus Prime) I eventually uncovered this gem, which was like discovering a hidden trove of treasure in an ancient tomb that's been looted centuries ago. 

The first thing that struck me about "Star Fleet" is that it's not a cartoon. It's this: 

If the above images strike you as some sort of mix between the legendary Thunderbirds and anime, you're right on the money. 

Originally known as "X-Bomber," this Japanese production was inspired by the marionette-and-miniature sci-fi works of Gerry Anderson (which include the aforementioned "Thunderbirds," and others such as "Captain Scarlet") with the kind of flair that only a Japanese interpretation could produce.  After its run in Japan, it was brought to the UK and localized as "Star Fleet," where it was met with tons of praise from kids and fans of Anderson's beloved shows. 

The closing theme was my first exposure to the franchise and also what started my obsession. I'm now a proud owner of both the soundtrack and the full series' DVD release, and couldn't be happier.

The music is composed by Paul Bliss, who uses nothing but synths to create the surreal soundscape. In a rare move, the opening to the show features no vocals, and instead opts to have the "traditional" vocal theme play during the credits. 

The reasoning is, most likely, that the song is so God-damned awesome they wanted to put it at the end to make the kiddies would watch the entire episode and then be sure to tune in next week. 

Let's give it a go: 

This is the version found on the official soundtrack (on whose "fan feedback" section of the site I make a grand appearance). While it is definitely remastered, it's all for the better and still maintains what made the mono-version so cheesily great. 

There's little to discuss about the "hows and why" in regards to what makes this work so well. The space-opera lyrics, the power chord in the middle, and the 80's synth-levels at full glory all combine to form the greatest of anthems. 

In fact, the song is so good that Brian May (of Queen) and Van Halen decided to cover it. 

Don't believe me? Do yourself a favor and watch Brian May's floating head serenade you below.*

* = This video is the short version, the song on the actual "Star Fleet Project" EP is around 8 minutes long and features an elaborate guitar solo in which Van Halen's guitar strings break.

Remember: Only they can save us. 

The "SEGA Ages" series was a poorly executed attempt to rejuvenate classic SEGA franchises for the Playstation 2. 

By rejuvenate, I mean remake the games with less-than Nintendo 64 quality graphics, unresponsive controls, a framerate that begs for death, and then, finally, defame the previously air-tight version of the game with one that is unfairly unplayable. 

While others were somewhat passable (like "Space Harrier," and I mean somewhat) "Golden Axe" seems to have taken the biggest blow. Aside from an intro that adds a new layer to the oddly memorable plot, it goes from hilariously easy to impossibly difficult on a whim (and I use "impossible" with its literal definition) and has a framerate that is so weak in the knees that a scene of a flowing river drags the game down to a fatally slow pace. 

It's apparent that the programmers all failed on the grandest scale imaginable, but there is one person on that cursed team that did their job, and took it beyond even my wildest dreams. 

Using the already stellar themes from the original "Golden Axe" and then releasing them from the odd Genesis sound-chip shackles, the composer was able to show off the potential of these themes with synthetic orchestral versions that are far greater than what the entire "Sega Ages" line deserved. 

This week's "Weekly Soundcheck" features one of my favorite video game tunes of all time. 

While I was enamored with "Sonic the Hedgehog 2's" Special Stages as a kid, it took 2002's "Sonic Mega Collection" on the Gamecube for me to truly appreciate the awesomeness that is "Blue Sphere," the Special Stage from "Sonic the Hedgehog 3," "Sonic & Knuckles," and, in the fusion that's far too powerful for even Gogeta, "Sonic 3 & Knuckles." 

While "Sonic 1" had the hedgehog swirling around in a spinning maze, and "Sonic 2" had the blue lad and his two-tailed comrade running down a half-pipe, "Sonic 3" (along with its semi-sequel and fused form) had whatever character you chose to play as running around a small, checkered planetoid in pseudo-3D, deep in space. The object was to turn each of the titular blue spheres into red ones by touching them in order to get the mythic Chaos Emerald. This was a far more difficult task than it seemed: Aside from obstacles like bumpers, once a sphere turned red, touching it would end the Special Stage in failure. To add to the exponentially increasing danger, the stage would gradually speeding up, forcing you to make quick decisions with lightning-fast reflexes. 

​While this Special Stage's concept and execution were already outstanding, it was the music that stuck with me the most. 

Click the video below to listen! (And if you want to know what it's like to experience the ever-increasing speed, click the prompt in the video for the "true speed" version.)

This song perfectly captures this illusory, dream-like quality that the Special Stage's visuals and atmosphere seem to demand. My favorite part is from :39 to :54.

I can't say for sure what it is about that particular section that resonates with me so much, but it's like a direct current to the center of my nostalgia. There's even a sense of sadness about it. It's as if you're starting to wake during a wonderful dream, and then desperately try to chase it down, finding yourself falling further and further behind. 

And, of course, you gotta just love the tinny clap effect and that sweet baseline.

Aside from the dreaminess, it manages to be both relaxing and exciting simultaneously, just as the Blue Sphere stages themselves somehow manage to be.

I hope this week's edition of the "Soundcheck" finds you in good spirits and, if not, I hope this song helps turn things around. 

Today's track is the Main Table theme from "Jaki Crush," an unusually themed pinball game for the Super Nintendo, never released outside of Japan. 

The "Crush" series is a collection of four (five, if counting the somewhat-unofficial, but definitely horrible, "Dragon's Revenge" on Genesis) pinball games on various consoles, starting with the TurboGrafx-16, moving to the Super Nintendo, then the Genesis, and, finally, WiiWare. 

What sets these games apart from other video pinball games is their dark, dreary, and downright creepy aesthetics, along with shockingly excellent scores. 

For example, "Alien Crush," the first of the series, takes place inside an H.R. Giger-inspired realm of biological entities and alien beasts. "Devil's Crush," the second, is an occult-flavored masterpiece, tasking the player to destroy demons, druids, and other abominations in a wicked castle setting. 

But the one we're concerned with today is "Jaki Crush," the third effort. Its theme is that of Japanese mythology, focusing on a Japanese demon called a "jaki."  The music for the main table, while not as remembered as the "Main Table" theme from "Devil's Crush" (something we WILL be covering in future weeks) due to the relative obscurity, is absolutely comparable in terms of quality, and surprisingly varied. Let us listen: 

The song starts out not as a blood-pumping anthem, but a smooth mood-setter. The first movement puts the player in the right mindset for concentrating on the ball and the various obstacles on the large, single board. What's immediately apparent is the unique instruments used in the composition. Much like "Devil's Crush," "Jaki" has a sound all its own.

​At 1:02, we go straight into the second movement, which is a very cool evolution of the first movement. It takes a more threatening approach, and has a supernatural air about it. It's hard to pinpoint exactly what feelings this music conjures, or even what images it paints pictures of, but I'd be hard-pressed to find a better example of classic video game music that perfectly nails a sound synonymous with the concept. It's not trying to be cinematic like "Super Castlevania IV" or "Chrono Trigger," nor are its instruments attempting to replicate real ones. It's purely video game music, and nails that exceptionally elusive aesthetic.

​Again, the sounds they use here are very unique, and the heavier drum beat and newly active bass line is a great accent to the now-prominent synth.  

After a brief, tentative bridge that starts at 1:33, the third movement explosively envelops us at 2:03, with all its glory. An elaborate break down of the second movement, the most memorable element is a wildly enthusiastic synth solo, followed by a melancholy backing, finally breaking down even further into nothing but deep drums and quick bits that sound like the Jaki himself scratching a chalkboard before repeating. 

Overall, this track nails a very particular mood, but one as a obscure as the game itself. If you're looking for a fantastic example of "video game music," Jaki Crush's Main Table is what you've been seeking. 
​

Welcome to Weekly Soundcheck, where we check out an outstanding tune from a video game you may or may not be familiar with.

Once a week, I'll choose a song and discuss what's noteworthy about it. The main goal is to appreciate some lesser known compositions, and hopefully help them gain some recognition by spreading the word through here.  

Back in 2010, my family just so happened to be visiting Disney World when the Transformers convention, BotCon, was going to be there, too. Being the Transformers fans that we are (whether we admit it or not) we decided to attend. 

While there, I had the privilege of checking out High Moon Studio's "War for Cybertron" and was blown away by its quality. Someone was taking a Transformers game and doing it right (for once) but I was unable to purchase it as I did not have a PS3 or Xbox 360.

In 2012, "War's" sequel arrived in the form of "Fall of Cybertron." Game Informer's cover story and glowing review made me hunger like Unicron for it, and by then I was lucky enough to acquire a 360. 

"Fall of Cybertron" did not disappoint. Its art design, gameplay and story were a serious take on what was essentially a franchise designed to sell toys, but much like "Beast Wars: Transformers," it made it so much more. 

The audio department was also strong, with a voice cast lead by Peter Cullen himself. And then there was the music. 

"Fall's" score is just as solemn and dire as the game's story, but in a surprising move, focuses almost entirely on a single musical motif. From this motif springs over an hour and half's worth of variation and interpretation that somehow doesn't get old. It's that well done. 

Troels Folmann, the composer, has won the TEC Award for his score for "Tomb Raider: Legend" in 2006, but is mostly known for his work composing the unique themes for film trailers. It's easy to see with "Fall of Cybertron" how he took the methodology of composing  the catchy hooks for trailers and then expanded from there with this game's style. 

​Let us give the main theme a listen: 

The first discernible piece of melody, starting at :13, is the motif that will carry the score on its back. Its dire emotion perfectly encapsulates the critical point in the Cybertronian Wars where "Fall of Cybertron" takes place. The Transformers' home world, Cybertron, is dying after millions of years of bitter civil war, and the player will experience the last six Earth days before the escape to Earth that kickstarts the beloved 80's cartoon. Here, Folmann uses a wide palette of sounds, unafraid of lighter electronic elements despite the heavy synthetic orchestral presence. As the theme continues, the tension builds to a fever pitch, which becomes so intense that a choral backing is required while the main motif takes an even more urgent tone. 

Just for some examples at how the main theme and its motif are re-molded continually throughout the game, use the video below and, starting at 35:10, listen to how completely subtle, beautiful, and even spiritual the motif becomes. Forgoing almost all electronic-sounding elements, Folmann uses nothing but strings to convey a sense of wonder at the discovery of the Autobot's salvation (despite them not knowing it just yet). At 46:08, you can hear how the same motif becomes a haunting, electronic and choral amalgamation during a particularly deadly encounter in the middle of an entirely forgotten city of rust in the Cybertronian wastes. 

While the score doesn't exactly break new ground and may become redundant when listened to outside of the context of the game, it's something to behold in context, with your ears anxiously awaiting the next glorious rendition of the motif to light the darkest hour of whatever perilous situation you need to escape from, with the weight of your entire civilization's survival on your shoulders. 

I have an unusual relationship with "Super Castlevania IV."

When the Nintendo Wii released, one of its most noteworthy features, aside from the motion control, was that you could download classic video games for a small price straight to the console. To me, this was the most important selling-point, as I adored NES and Genesis games. 

Not too far into owning the console, my friend Tim suggested downloading "Super Castlevania IV," and sung its praises. After a month or so, I caved and purchased it for myself. It was odd, since I'd never really heard much buzz about this game, despite being such a fan of the series. It was always "Symphony of the Night," never "Super Castlevania IV" when it came to rose-tinted remembrances. 

Either way, I started the game and was immediately turned off by its music and graphics. It just didn't click for me at all, but I trudged on. I brought up my concerns to Tim, and he said that I was going to reach a certain point and then I would "understand everrryyyyythinggggg" (he has a flair for the dramatic.) 

I pushed onward, following his advice when, as predicted, everything changed. I thought I reached the final stage, only to have it revealed that I was merely half-way done. This fact was ushered in through then-revolutionary special effects, such as the Super Nintendo's Mode 7. Finally, after nothing clicking, it all locked perfectly into place and I was hooked. 

When telling friends who have not yet played the game to give it a try, I always mention how it will start out slow but that they'll "understand everrryyythinggggg" soon enough. 

Now, "Super Castlevania IV" may be my favorite of the "classic-styled" Castlevania games. It has an enjoyable difficulty curve, just the right length, a hella great Map Screen and, my God the music and graphics. Once the game clicked, my erroneous views on those subjects quickly aligned themselves properly. 

I didn't know it at the time, but I was being the worst kind of Castlevania fan upon my first exposure to this bonafide classic: I was locked into some absurd mindset where if there was something that differed from the norm I was used to in regards to the series, then it must be garbage.

Thankfully, I was able to overcome that detrimental mind-malfunction and fully-understand just how fantastic this masterpiece was. Likewise, the musical score that I had initially shunned has skyrocketed towards one of my absolute favorites.

As we'll soon discuss, the major difference with the score here is that it nearly completely abandons the "Castlevania sound" in favor of foreboding atmospheric work, delivering one of the most ominous musical scores in the history of the franchise. It's an especially unexpected direction, as "Castlevania III: Dracula's Curse" essentially perfects the "Castlevania sound" that was pioneered by the first two games in the franchise. 

In terms of plot, however, things couldn't be more "back to basics:" Dracula has returned to the earthly plane, and Simon Belmont needs to destroy him. The Japanese version makes it clear that this a remake of the first game, but the American version is much less clear. If we take the American version as canon, then Simon is over 100 years old when he maniacally charges into the castle, and wantonly destroys everything in his path. I'll take the American version, thank you. 

So, let us listen to this brand new take on a Castlevania score while picturing a 100-plus year-old Simon Belmont mercilessly and viscerally annihilating the hordes of Dracula. 

"Castlevania II: Simon's Quest," is one of the most misunderstood games in the entire franchise. 

For those who don't know, "Simon's Quest" was an unusual departure from the action-platforming roots of its predecessor. While the core gameplay of whip-swinging and spotty jumping was still there, the player was no longer confined to a strict level-to-level system within the walls of the titular Castlevania, but was instead turned loose into the wilderness of Transylvania. Revolutionary at its time (and under-appreciated now) "Simon's Quest" was an open-world adventure with RPG elements and a heavy focus on convoluted and obscure solutions to mysterious puzzles and riddles. 

Perhaps most infamously, the various towns that you visit are populated with villagers who, at best, are liars and, at worst, actively hate you. This made for a surprisingly memorable and oppressing experience that effectively turned up the creepy-factor that the first game pioneered. 

Storywise, Castlevania II is also unique: Set seven years after Simon Belmont defeats Count Dracula, his wounds have never fully healed. He soon finds out through an apparition that, despite the Count's demise, his curse remains firmly in place, causing Simon's precarious predicament while also keeping hordes of unholy beasts and monsters roaming and terrorizing the land. The only solution is to track down the remains of Dracula (collected by his servants in the interim) and to destroy them once and for all in the ruins of the collapsed Castlevania. In a novel inclusion for the franchise, there are multiple endings depending on how long it takes you to complete your task, with the canon ending being a somber and shocking conclusion. 

Famously ripped into by a very angry video game nerd, "Simon's Quest" gets an unearned amount of scorn. Yes, it's confusing. Yes, its night and day system is a bit slow, but at its core, it's a surprising change of pace that remains good fun while adding a surprising amount of world-building and depth. 

Despite the alleged gameplay flaws, the soundtrack has received nearly universal praise, particularly for bringing the world "Bloody Tears," a track that is just as popular as the first game's "Vampire Killer." Overall, the soundtrack is a bit moodier, but still a truly unique collection that helped further refine the "Castlevania sound."

Let's enter Hell house ourselves and, just in case...