Staff Reports
In an era where video games are rapidly transforming into a dominant form of entertainment, the advent of indie studios has added an intriguing layer to the industry. Take, for example, Sandfall Interactive, a French indie studio that recently launched a game called Claire Obscur. With a team of just 30 dedicated individuals who connected through the digital ether, the studio has already made waves by winning nine out of the 13 awards it was eligible for at a recent game awards ceremony. While some skeptics claimed the accolades were rigged, this rise is as compelling as the game itself.
What strikes a chord (pun intended) about Claire Obscur isn’t merely its gameplay. Instead, it’s the artistry behind its music that draws attention. The game features a soundtrack that some might describe as “video game elevator music,” but let’s not dismiss it outright. The melodies are filled with a mix of haunting lyrics and dramatic compositions intended to elevate the gaming experience. However, one can’t help but notice that while some songs build suspense, others meander without notably reaching any climax.
Imagine investing your time in a song promising to go somewhere exciting, only to find it stuck in a musical spiral—this can be frustrating. The reviews of Claire Obscur’s tracks reveal a pattern: a tendency for many compositions to repeat themselves without adding the expected crescendo. It’s as if these songs have committed the ultimate sin of music—they forgot to evolve. A well-structured song should indeed have a beginning, middle, and end, just like a solid argument in an editorial, or a good meal with a satisfying dessert (preferably apple pie).
However, it is worth mentioning that not all tracks follow this trend. One particular song, associated with the game’s climactic moments, manages to build toward something substantial. In gaming, much like in politics, creating tension and then resolving it can lead to a riveting experience. This specific track blends dissonance and harmony, much like the ongoing debates in Congress where opposing sides occasionally manage to agree, albeit briefly.
Yet the question persists: what happens when dissonance becomes a defining characteristic? While dissonant sounds can enhance the narrative of an impending confrontation or drama, they can also lead to a lack of coherence if not combined effectively with more harmonious elements. Music is about intensity—raising the stakes and then paying them off. When an audience or a gamer invests their time, they deserve a reward, not just a GDP-sapping loop of repetitive tunes.
In a broader context, Claire Obscur serves as a reminder of the challenges faced by indie games and their musical counterparts. While innovation is crucial, it must be balanced with a sense of structure to engage audiences fully. As gaming continues its inevitable growth, one can only hope that both developers and composers will remember that a good game, much like a solid political argument, is all about the journey taken to reach a satisfying conclusion—preferably one adorned with a touch of virtuosity that leaves players humming along rather than checking their watches.
