Pokemon Music Analysis/Rambling: Legends Arceus and Nostalgia

Who's your favorite Pokemon composer?

  • Junichi Masuda

    Votes: 1 6.7%
  • Go Ichinose

    Votes: 7 46.7%
  • Shota Kageyama

    Votes: 1 6.7%
  • Hitomi Sato

    Votes: 2 13.3%
  • Morikazu Aoki

    Votes: 0 0.0%
  • Minako Adachi

    Votes: 1 6.7%
  • Toby Fox

    Votes: 3 20.0%
  • Other

    Votes: 0 0.0%

  • Total voters
    15

ninth

Notorious Dump Legend
is a Community Contributor
Howdy, y’all. I’m ninth and I’m extremely normal about Pokemon music, so I’m using this thread to archive my thoughts on the music of the franchise. I’ve already done a post highlighting the excellent soundtrack of Scarlet and Violet (here)[https://www.smogon.com/forums/threads/your-favorite-theme-in-pokemon.3537309/post-10209686], but I figured it might be better to not flood the other thread with overlong essays that crash my browser on mobile. This first entry is going to be a guide to the various composers of the main-series Pokemon games, their signatures and how to spot who made your favorite game music.

Note: unfortunately, the embeds just die a fourth of the way through the post, and despite writing this long-ass post I cannot figure out how to get them working. Apologies to anyone reading on mobile; get ready to learn picture-in-picture, buddy.

Junichi Masuda, one of the founding members of Game Freak, was the sole composer for the first generation of Pokemon. His work laid foundations for what a Pokemon theme sounds like. You can recognize a battle theme instantly with rapidly descending intros, a few bars in the same tone before jumping into a constantly-shifting, hyperactive string of melodies. Jingles like leveling up and using the Pokemon Center were also his creations. Masuda’s music is Pokemon, and anyone who’s ever put together music for the series is drawing from his blueprints.


There’s an interesting shift in some of Masuda’s later work, where more than a few of his battle themes veer into more experimental, electronic compositions. He has almost no arrangement credits starting at Black and White, with the exception of SM’s Solgaleo/Lunala and Elite Four themes, but between Kageyama and Ichinose many of his new pieces sound futuristic and push the boundaries of what we consider Pokemon music.


Masuda’s modern work has slowed as other composers entered the field, and much of it is quite obviously in his Game Boy style but with modern instruments. Poco Path, one of his few new works for the early game of Scarlet and Violet, sounds like you could just transpose it to 8-bit without any difficulty. With his departure for The Pokemon Company in 2022, and the series shifting to more dynamic music in general, it’s unlikely we will hear too many new compositions from the OG in the future. Still, those iconic few notes from the intro will live on as long as Pokemon itself does.



Go Ichinose started as a programmer for Game Freak but was brought on board for Gold and Silver’s soundtrack, and rapidly became a mainstay of the franchise. Ichinose was a key composer and arranger of the 2D era, most notably co-leading the DPP soundtrack with Hitomi Sato, before being absent from most of Gen 6. He returned immediately afterwards and remains a trusted arranger for the biggest, most important moments of the series.

Ichinose’s strength is his understanding of scale and importance — if there’s an endgame boss theme or a final area, there’s a good chance he composed or arranged it. He tackles everything from a lonely mountain with the fate of the universe on the line to a triumphant title fight with big compositions that place you in the moment. You can hear this too in his arrangement of Toby Fox’s Area Zero, where his big echoing drums and unnerving choirs lend scale to the endgame. But sometimes, to create a feeling of impending doom, all you need is piano — an instrument usually associated with peaceful, quiet areas, now a weapon in the hands of the most powerful trainer in Sinnoh.


Ichinose has a couple of calling cards. The first and most obvious is his rapid-fire slap bass, typically used to add tension and throw in another moving part for large setpieces, and also just because it’s cool. His basslines are more hyperactive than any other composer, and it’s remarkably easy to spot once you’re paying attention.


He also quite likes his opening drum fills, a sampling of which can be heard here.

One other feature he uses a lot is this repeating three-note sequence, a melancholy motif that just feels nostalgic. It’s impossible to miss once you pick up on it twice.


I couldn’t fit this in anywhere but one of my personal favorites from him is Alabaster Icelands 1, this foreboding icy theme that could nearly pass as an old Japanese pop instrumental. It’s a refreshing take on the “cold area” music tropes and weaves in the uncertainty of a journey near its end. Ichinose’s work on PLA is super versatile and I’ll be covering more of it in the future.



Morikazu Aoki composed and arranged several songs for Generations 2 and 3, including some jingles used in Diamond and Pearl, before leaving Game Freak for Mario & Luigi developers AlphaDream. Also making a lot of one-time themes and jingles, such as Pokedex evaluations and victory theme arrangements, one of Aoki’s main legacies is Hoenn’s iconic trumpets, arranging a number of tracks that use the famous soundfont. I can’t blame him — it’s a nice-sounding trumpet, and it really makes the region’s soundtrack sound important. Route 110 sticks out as a big, joyous adventure thanks to it.

It’s a little harder to characterize Aoki’s work on Gen 2 as many of his works were rearrangements of Kanto themes. He was nonetheless responsible for a number of favorite tunes, including Eusine’s theme and the Battle Tower theme that’s now associated with the Frontier and post-game gauntlets.

Several of Aoki’s jingles have since become recognizable tunes carried into future games. Obtaining Eggs, Berries, and even deleting moves are all familiar sounds composed by him.



Hitomi Sato has sporadic credits before Gen 4, including writing lyrics for a number of bonus tracks on the SMCs, but her big break came in Gen 4, when she took on composing and arranging Diamond and Pearl’s soundtrack alongside Go Ichinose. Sato’s unique style became a favorite, and she has been a regular on Pokemon soundtracks ever since, though usually working on character suites or particular areas rather than whole soundtracks like DP.

Sato brings a free-flowing, jazzy style to Pokemon, with her instruments allowed to step outside of the lines and go where they please. From the chilled-out low-light vibes of Virbank City to the adventurous Vast Poni Canyon, her compositions are distinctly groovy in a way nobody else on the team really tries to approach. Her style also naturally lends itself to infectious earworms like Driftveil City, and there’s a sense of homeliness and familiarity in much of her music.

One thing she doesn’t work on as frequently any more is route themes, which is a shame, because she makes some incredible atmospheres. Sinnoh Route 209 is a beautiful, heartfelt anthem for the region, full of hope and heartache alike. Unova’s postgame routes all use the same theme, and it feels like reflecting on the adventures past and to come, the descending strings like Route 13’s waterfalls gently crashing around you. The bittersweetness of Ancient Poni Path, a lonely stretch in the late game, feels like reflecting on a journey near its end, like watching the sun slowly creep into the horizon.

Legends: Arceus allowed Sato to tap into a new bag, these massive ambient pieces — I’m going to speak on them more in my next post covering PLA, but one of my favorites is “Disaster,” the warping, droning horrorscape that plays everywhere when the skies darken over Hisui.

Notably, Sato also composes a lot of music for connectivity features and non-core gameplay areas; see Pokestar Studios, Festival Plaza and the like. A good deal of the new music on HGSS is her work, covering things such as the Global Terminal (note the similarity to Colress’ battle theme, which she composed), the Nintendo WFC melody, and Mystery Gift themes. She also composed and arranged a bulk of music for the Battle Frontier, including the absolute banger of the Frontier Brain battle theme she co-composed with Ichinose.




Shota Kageyama joined Game Freak as a composer for the Gold and Silver remakes, arranging the majority of Masuda/Ichinoss/Aoki’s originals for the DS soundfonts. His grasp on the sound was immediately obvious, and he followed this up as one of the lead composers on Black and White, writing many of the game’s most iconic themes. After also leading much of X and Y’s soundtrack and arranging remakes for ORAS and the Delta Episode, Kageyama left Game Freak in 2014, but continues to work with them on remakes (LGPE, BDSP) and side games like Pokemon Duel (RIP) and Pokemon Sleep.

If Masuda is recognizably Gen 1 in his composition, Kageyama is similarly intertwined with the sound of the DS era. He’s able to cover a massive range, from the anthemic Castelia City to the ominous Chargestone Cave to the jaunty Accumula Town. He notably has favorite soundfonts he frequents, and it’s most obvious in HGSS where he spams that one guitar and string combo and it never gets old. Kageyama also worked on several routes for BW, most famously Route 10, a homesick theme tinged with sadness and uncertainty, so good that when it was physically axed in the sequels they added an NPC whose sole purpose was to play it anyways.

Some of his most memorable themes are quieter, more emotional ones. Gut punches like “An Unwavering Heart” arguably form the cornerstones of what constitutes an emotional theme in modern Pokemon. Kageyama also re-orchestrated “Farewell” for the Super Music Collection and it’s just heartwrenching. There’s also the beautiful “KISEKI,” with lyrics written by Masuda and Kenji Matsushima, one of the most touching ending themes to any Pokemon game. I still get chills when all of the languages kick in.

Kageyama’s transition to the expanded sound palettes of Gen 6 continued to enable his compositional skills, as he wrote many of XY’s fundamental melodies and wrote much of the new music for the Delta Episode. His violin-based work on Zinnia’s suite remains iconic to me, if you couldn’t tell by the profile picture.

I would be neglectful to not mention some of Kageyama’s side game work, most notably on Pokemon Duel, a now-discontinued gacha based on the short-lived Trading Figure Game. One fun aspect of that game’s soundtrack was the varying PVP music depending on your rank and the state of the game. At lower ranks, it would start as a relatively chill track before kicking into a synth-heavy overdrive once any piece got dangerously close to the goal. At higher ranks, the music starts at high intensity and stays there, with Kageyama composing two epics reminiscent of his work on N’s Castle. The game was a broken mess but it was a ton of fun, with plenty of really slick character designs too — I’ll treasure my Deoxys-Speed sweeps in my heart forever.



Minako Adachi wrote a couple of tracks here and there for Black and White, before composing a substantial amount of X and Y’s soundtrack, most notably the Team Flare suite. She took on about half of the arrangements for ORAS alongside Kageyama, before becoming a primary composer for many of the future games of the 3D era. Adachi was a leading voice of Scarlet and Violet in particular, composing and arranging the majority of overworld and wild battle music for both the base game and DLCs.

Adachi’s style is highly diverse, exploring a variety of genres, but there’s often an emphasis on big melodies, as well as wrangling familiar harmonies and shared motifs from other related tracks. She puts a ton of emphasis on making her lead instruments pop out and stick in your mind. Adachi’s battle themes are high-intensity and often represent tonal shifts, and she frequents these off-kilter piano chords and strained electric guitars that make me think she would be arranging for Kirby games in another life. If it doesn’t sound like a Pokemon theme, it might just be her.

Her orchestral arrangements in overworld themes are arguably the modern sound of Pokemon, and it’s where Adachi gets to flex her versatility the most. She goes from jaunty Irish “Shipping Up To Boston”-ass tunes to medieval 11/8 swing to happy-go-lucky vacation vibes without breaking a sweat. I’m going to talk about South Province later, but her arrangement of Fox’s composition is emblematic of what you might hear in a trailer for new games, an anthem for Paldea and Pokemon as a whole.



Teruo Taniguchi is, to my knowledge, not a Game Freak employee, and presently works for SuperSweep. He created a few jingles for B2W2, before contributing SFX for Pokemon Quest and Legends: Arceus several years apart, as well as soundtracking Game Freak’s 2017 release Giga Wrecker. For Scarlet and Violet, Taniguchi composed and arranged the entire Team Star suite to overwhelmingly positive reception — I’m hoping they let him compose more on further games.

Taniguchi’s style is loud and brash, combining rock elements with huge synths to fill as much space as possible. This much is evident as far back as his work on Giga Wrecker, but it really jumps out in his Team Star work, with racing drums and chaotic guitar solos combining for a smorgasbord of a musical experience. He even dips into full-on hardstyle with Penny’s battle theme, taking her Galarian origins to the logical extreme. I wish I had more to write about him, because the few tracks he’s done for Pokemon really are exceptional and unique for the series.



Toby Fox is perhaps better known as the creator and soundtracker of indie smash hit Undertale and Deltarune, with his soundtracks being widely praised for combining storytelling motifs, emotional weight, and absolute bangers. Fluent in Japanese, Fox befriended Go Ichinose over Twitter, and things escalated to a meeting with Game Freak in which he asked to make a song for them and they let him, resulting in the Battle Tower theme. Their relationship strengthened, and Fox later composed for Game Freak’s Little Town Hero alongside Hitomi Sato, before composing a small but extremely significant chunk of Scarlet and Violet’s soundtrack.

Fox operates in a few modes that will be familiar to fans of his other work. Fox’s overworld themes radiate energy, and he makes use of these massive leads that set up crucial motifs. Note Adachi’s arrangement for both South Province and Mesagoza — I think these two actually share a few similarities in their style, and her instruments really do a great job in emphasizing Fox’s melodies.

His battle and boss themes are maximalist, racing journeys through as many motifs as he can cram into the track, with changes in key and tempo not uncommon. In particular, he loves to use these double-time drums to get the heart racing even faster. Academy Ace Tournament, with its triumphant saxophone and full-force guitars, is a fun fusion of his overworld and battle styles: what I’ve linked below is timestamped from a SMC upload, but you absolutely have to listen to the high-quality SMC version because the game rips all sound super muddy.


Hiromitsu Maeba is a Capcom alumnus, presently working as a freelancer as far as I know. His work with Pokemon mainly consists of cutscene and non-repeating tracks, being trusted to set the tone during important story beats. Maeba started in this role in Legends: Arceus and continued throughout Scarlet and Violet, where he also notably composed Clavell/Clive’s suite.

One of Maeba’s key roles is to set the atmosphere, and many of his tracks play during particularly cinematic moments, such as the expulsion from Jubilife Village, space-time distortions, or a cave encounter you’re horribly underprepared for. Even his battle theme for Clavell (Fox is also credited due to the use of the Mesagoza motif) feels like a dynamic piece from a movie scene, euphoric strings and wistful trumpets bringing us on a journey.


Tomoaki Oga only worked on Gen 7 games but nonetheless played a significant role in the game’s atmosphere, setting a tropical tone with pieces like “Salon” and delving into uncertainty and threat much later in the soundtrack. He’s trusted with quite a few endgame tracks related to Lusamine and the Ultra Beasts, as well as arrangements for Archie/Maxie, Cyrus, and Lysandre in USUM.


Hideaki Kuroda took on a number of arrangements in the 3DS era, most notably co-arranging several ORAS battle themes alongside Adachi. Archie/Maxie, Steven, and the Primal Reversion Pokemon are all arranged by the pair, with the Team Leader remixes taking the original theme and pushing the hype to the max. The Primal Reversion theme is particularly interesting for how the original GBA themes phase in and out of the mix, as if the music itself is reverting to the very beginning of things. The Delta Episode’s “Per Aspera Ad Astra” is also mostly his work, a triumphant guitar solo that covers Rayquaza’s ascent to the skies.


There’s a couple of other musicians who only ended up on one or two main series games for a few contributions, but I’d be neglectful not to mention them. Takuto Kitsuta, a HAL Laboratory composer, arranged several remake tracks for HGSS, most of them Kanto tracks that were already redone once. Nowadays he mainly works on soundtracks for side games such as PokePark and Detective Pikachu.

Rei Murayama joined Game Freak in 2018 as a planner, but recently dipped into the soundtrack division for Scarlet and Violet’s second DLC, where he is credited as a composer on much of the Terapagos suite. My guess is that he wrote the two main melodies associated with the turtle.

Keita Okamoto is a programmer for Game Freak, and is credited on one track (Poke Job, arranged by Ichinose) and two jingles across Sword and Shield and its DLC, one of which is just the “found an item” jingle that tape-stops halfway through.

Jun Fukuda, mainly an SFX guru who lent sounds to several games across the franchise including Pokemon Sleep, is credited on precisely one track across SMCs, an arrangement of the Pokemon Center jingle titled “Good Night” from the Sun and Moon soundtrack. Sure, why not.


UPDATE: I can't believe I missed Satoshi Nohara, a programmer and script designer who made a few jingles for Platinum including jingles for receiving Castle Points and BP.

If you've made it this far, thanks for reading! My next post will cover the soundtrack of Pokemon Legends: Arceus, and how Ichinose and Sato wield old motifs and nostalgia to craft some of the best Pokemon music you'll never hear.
 
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I love little analyses like this, identifying all the stylse and such. By the way you point out Sato's Disaster track, but I want to highlight Ancient Retreat. It's a very simple, serene track but I love it a lot separately and in the context of when you most frequently hear it (the climax as a base of operations between outings into the disaster). I'm a big sucker for bells.

I am still iffy on a lot of Master's remixes, but if they ever add Cogita to the game I'd be interested in how they presumably remix this track into a battle theme.


As for the embeds...if I had to guess the forum has a limit on the number of embeds. I'm not sure if there's a way to specifically make something not auto-embed, though maybe it's buried somewhere in the options. It'd probably be best to just specificalyl embed the big highlight tracsk and then just link (with a title, preferably) the remainder.
 
I love little analyses like this, identifying all the stylse and such. By the way you point out Sato's Disaster track, but I want to highlight Ancient Retreat. It's a very simple, serene track but I love it a lot separately and in the context of when you most frequently hear it (the climax as a base of operations between outings into the disaster). I'm a big sucker for bells.

I am still iffy on a lot of Master's remixes, but if they ever add Cogita to the game I'd be interested in how they presumably remix this track into a battle theme.


As for the embeds...if I had to guess the forum has a limit on the number of embeds. I'm not sure if there's a way to specifically make something not auto-embed, though maybe it's buried somewhere in the options. It'd probably be best to just specificalyl embed the big highlight tracsk and then just link (with a title, preferably) the remainder.

I'm glad you mentioned this track! Bells are a common motif in Sato's arrangements — the way she uses these big ones, in the right key but just off from where you'd expect them, is a great way of expressing the feeling of a temporary sanctuary, a place to rest while preparing for the end.

And it's funny you mention Masters remixes: if we go by his Twitter, today is Shota Kageyama's birthday, and he's one of the music leads for Masters alongside ATTIC INC.'s Haruki Yamada! I definitely get why Masters remixes are hot-and-cold for a lot of people: especially early on, they had a habit of just veering off melody-wise and making their own continuations of various themes, which not everybody will be expecting nor particularly wanting. One of them that I think works well is Wally's theme, which takes Adachi's criminally short original and fleshes it out into a full-length anthem.


I also like some of their original pieces for Masters: this one that plays when fighting a particularly strong generic NPC is a favorite of mine, with the Zinnia-esque strings (despite that, it's Yamada arranging this one, not Kageyama).


There's also the time they snuck a PLA plot point into the soundtrack a month early — that's for my next post...
 
My issues with the early masters remixes is I think they just sounded bad. The way a lot of people felt about the USUM Rainbow Rocket remixes (which I dont entirely agree with) was how I felt about them. The latter ones are general better, I presume as the composer(s) found their groove, but it's still hit or miss.


Also I think their Colress remix got rid of the countdown and I just can't get past that.
 
Alright, so I can't post with more than 15 embeds at a time, so I'm going to break these up into multiple posts so that it's readable on mobile. Game is game.

Legends: Arceus, Nostalgia, and Leitmotifs: Part 1


For my next edition of “long-winded writing about Pokemon soundtracks” I’m going to take a look at Pokemon Legends: Arceus, and specifically how it samples and pays homage to the Diamond and Pearl soundtrack through its own music. The integration of the originals into PLA’s score makes it one of the most narratively interesting soundtracks, with a common theme of nostalgia and lost memories weaving into the compositions.

PLA’s soundtrack is primarily led by the original team responsible for Sinnoh’s original score, Go Ichinose and Hitomi Sato. They arrange and sample both their own and each others’ contributions, to the point that the lines between them sometimes start to blur. But you can frequently tell when something’s an Ichinose arrangement (slap bass, overall massive sense of scale and importance) and when something’s a Sato composition (jazzy and homely, a lot of freestyle instrumentation). The instruments used are overwhelmingly traditional and analog, plenty of flutes and acoustic guitars and violins, fitting of the time period the game’s set in. This makes the use of contemporary tools like synthesizers and audio manipulation particularly notable — keep an ear open for when those come up, because it’s almost always relevant.

After character creation, we’re greeted with the first proper track by Hiromitsu Maeba, a CAPCOM alumnus and new addition to the sound team who mostly scores cutscenes and flourishes across this soundtrack. Maeba opens PLA with the same key as the DPP opening, but “Transition” quickly veers off into a shrill flute and an ominous, unresolved progression, off-kilter and alien, an omen that this isn't the Pokémon you’re familiar with.



Laventon’s theme opens with typewriter-esque clicking and provides some semblance of familiarity across the game — he’s the Pokémon Professor, he’s giving you a task to fill out the Pokédex, you’re eating potato mochi with your friends. Hitomi Sato’s more traditionally familiar skills are deployed very early on here, a way to make sure you’re not too alienated, there is a place for you here.




Jubilife Village has multiple versions. The one you’ll hear at the start is almost entirely new, a wistful theme with a flute melody coming in and out. It simultaneously evokes a resting place and homesickness — you’re somewhere you can live, but you’re not home. This isn’t Jubilife City. Galaxy Hall tempts you with the first few notes of the theme of Rowan’s laboratory, before you meet Kamado and realize that he isn’t necessarily a friendly face either. At this point in the game, you’ve yet to run into a full motif from the original games, only glimpses.





Overworld music is one place where I feel PLA slightly fumbled to integrate the music with the gameplay: because you’re constantly in and out of combat with wild Pokémon, constantly being spotted by Paras, you never get to hear these themes in their full glory. Each of the four major biomes have two themes, one by Ichinose and one by Sato, and both themes have variants that play after quelling the noble of the area. Worse yet, the overworld themes only play during the daytime, and all areas share identical dusk/night/dawn music. I do want to highlight Sato’s midnight theme, though, with its chimes giving way to a mysterious atmosphere that sounds like being lost in space, peaceful and anxious at once. As the sun breaks across the horizon, she closes out the piece with a jazzy outro as the light returns to the world.




Obsidian Fieldlands is the first area you get to explore. Before completion, all you hear is an eerie, echoing piano riff and a melancholic, deep violin reflecting the harsh reality that you’re alone in a hostile land. Ichinose puts together one of his most lonely, almost sad compositions. It’s almost reminiscent of Twinleaf, but there’s pieces missing, you can’t quite put it together. Once you quell Kleavor, though, a wind instrument is added, and you hear glimpses of Twinleaf Town and Route 201, because you’ve become familiar with this land, and you recognize where you are. It’s touches like these that symbolize your mastery of this place — you’ve been here before, you can survive, you can thrive. Every overworld theme does this, adding little flourishes of the places you’re familiar with once you quell the Noble. It’s like your memories are coming back to you bit by bit, reminders of the places you explored all those years ago.





The theme of the Lord’s Arena is obviously intended to evoke the DPP opening movie, with the chimes spelling out the Azure Flute melody but never quite getting there. Simultaneously, the Dialga/Palkia motif comes in the form of intermittent twangs. It’s a reminder that Arceus is here, and these nobles are blessed…but something’s wrong, this is not what Arceus intended, the hole in the sky is not divine design but something else entirely.




The Heartwood is located in the southeast Obsidian Fieldlands. A lush green forest, its theme (Sato/Ichinose composing, Ichinose arranging) starts modestly, piano and sparkly chimes dancing from left to right. Then the piano comes in, a familiar chord, and you see the mossy rock, and — it all makes sense. The memories come rushing back. You’re in Eterna Forest, where you helped a woman and her Blissey through the grass, where your Eevee became a Leafeon, where you ventured into an abandoned mansion chasing playground rumors of a Pokémon inside the TV. When the second loop starts, and the original melodies are spelled out, it’s just further confirmation. An ever-so-slightly detuned flute still gives it an air of unfamiliarity, it’s not quite Eterna Forest yet, but it’s so, so close. This is one of the themes that still catches me off guard, forces me to clench my jaw and hide the goosebumps on my arms, one of the first true and direct shots of nostalgia in the game.




Hiromitsu Maeba appears intermittently in the PLA soundtrack, mostly scoring cutscenes and brief flourishes. Notably, he produced the music from within space-time distortions, a warping ambient theme that calls upon the harmonies of Dialga and Palkia. Something is horribly wrong here, modern items and Pokémon from other regions are spawning and they’re all aggressive, and somehow those two are a major factor.




The first clan settlement you encounter is Adaman’s Diamond clan, and Sato’s theme intentionally evokes Oreburgh City, the first Gym city you visit. You meet more ancestors of your modern-day friends, people who while not quite fully embracing Pokémon are willing to coexist with them. It’s not a town, not even close, but it could be one.




At this point you’ll be spending time in and out of your hub in Jubilife Village. The theme transforms here, suddenly detouring into a much more familiar melody for a moment, the Jubilife City you might have used as a hub. The Village theme remains, with more drums and chimes, and it feels like you’re making this place your home, piece by piece, as the locals warm up to you.




The Cobalt Coastlands don’t delay. You’re fully in the groove of things by now, and a new territory is no problem, so Ichinose drops you directly into a guitar interpolation of Route 210. There’s less subtlety, because you know where you are, and you’re getting increasingly comfortable with the land, defeating everything in your way. After that, things get quite interesting. Melodically, this is one of the most obviously Ichinose tracks: you’ve got a variant on his repeating tri-tone at 0:21, and there’s plenty of melodies that just barely resemble passages from his other works, but nothing that sticks around to constitute a solid motif. It’s like trying to recall a memory that’s just outside of your grasp, reaching for a test answer that you knew but just can’t write down, and if that isn’t a theme of Arceus, what is?




There’s no particular swimming theme in Switch-era games, but Sato’s Cobalt Coastlands 2 is just about the closest thing. Interpolating her work on another coastline settlement, Coumarine City, this is also one of the most recognizably Sato tracks, with jazzy chords anchoring a slow-paced, almost tropical in nature. As you’re out on the coast and traveling across the water, it’s almost peaceful, the strings and keys taking it easy and going off at their own pace.




At about 1:10 in “Firespit Island” (which, considering it houses a prominent Arcanine, I can only assume is a Pokémon Cypher 2013 reference) you hear a sequence that just barely resembles the legendary theme, just for a moment. With the whole theme meant to evoke Stark Mountain, it imparts importance upon the location, a reminder to come back here later because there might just be a beast lurking in the volcano.

 
Legends: Arceus, Nostalgia, and Leitmotifs: Part 2

Leading with Snowpoint City’s melody, the Alabaster Icelands are the final area you discover, reaching to the very north of Hisui. As always for an endgame area, the brilliant Go Ichinose takes the reins and injects plenty of slap bass into this area, building tension as you realize your journey may soon end. Once all the nobles are calmed…what next? Do you meet Arceus? Do you get to go home? Ichinose builds things up with brilliant instrumentation almost reminiscent of a tragic 80s pop composition, because one way or another, the end is coming sooner rather than later. The shakers explicitly remind you that this is a winter area, but even without them the track fits wonderfully into themes of the hostile cold. This is, in my opinion, one of the best tracks ever made for Pokemon.




As you’re expelled from a place you were ready to call home, the skies reddened and swirling, “Disaster” plays, which features no obvious motifs from DPP. Sato and Maeba combine for a droning, sinister ambience that reminds you that you’re alone again. Hisui might as well be alien territory. Even the battle music is just a more distorted, drum-infused version, a reminder that you can’t escape from the fate you’ve fallen into.



It’s the merchant and his mysterious relative that offer you something resembling rest, a hideaway where Kamado can’t find you. An off-kilter bell echoes through “Ancient Retreat” to remind you that the crisis still looms, but for a moment, you have allies, people willing to back you for the time being.




As you climb the mountain and make your way to the summit, through the stone portal, you catch the first hints of Mt. Coronet’s theme, Go Ichinose’s foreboding melodies signifying the climax that awaits you at the top. A choir fades in and out, a rare addition to Pokemon music and a signal that something is going horribly wrong. An anachronistic, oddly synthetic kick (remember this) enters to anchor rhythm to a rapidly intensifying section, and his slap bass is almost a Pavlovian conditioning tool at this point, telling you that the story is reaching a point of no return.




The first of the creation trio you catch is soundtracked by a slow, orchestral rendition of Dialga/Palkia’s theme by Hitomi Sato, fitting of a showdown with a god. When you return for the second one, though, Go Ichinose enters the fray and something completely unprecedented for the soundtrack comes — a four-to-the-floor, synth-driven headbanger, distinctly European in style, something that would be absolutely out of place anywhere but here. You’re fighting something that has amassed more power than it should have, a lowercase-G god desperately trying to emulate the uppercase-G God, warping space and time around it, and it just makes sense for its theme to be appropriately weird and anachronistic.





Then, the credits. I mean, what else is there to say? Route 209 is one of Pokémon’s greatest compositions, and Sato and Ichinose bring us home with a triumphant arrangement, even daring to bring in 8-bit chirps — ironically an indication of movement closer to the present, to Masuda’s iconic Game Boy arrangements, to the Pokémon we all know. It’s telling that they chose this theme in particular to remix for the credits: they surely knew that this track in particular, at once wistful and optimistic, was widely beloved and would hit all of the nostalgia triggers. You try to screenshot that beautiful painting at the end, only to find out the Switch has disabled it — that memory’s going to have to live on purely in your mind, along with your memories of beating Diamond and Pearl for the first time, along with all the nostalgia for things before capture cards. I wonder, can you recall that photo from memory?




Returning to Jubilife Village now fully brings out the City’s melody, as the people become acquainted with Pokémon and you’ve been accepted back into its ranks. It’s almost home — not quite, but it’s damn close.




Another curious use of anachronistic instruments is Hitomi Sato’s arrangement of the Lake Guardian battle theme. Featuring 8-bit arpeggios and a warping bassline, the beat drop feels constantly on the horizon, a high-tension theme for ancient beings that have lived long before you and will live long after you, perhaps to befriend someone who looks just like you. Strange, watery noises echo back and forth as you stare down the lake spirits: this is a test, not a battle.




At the end of it all, it’s Volo. The inversion of his descendant’s themes is notable, as Sato’s ominous strings playing as he reveals his plot sample Cynthia’s battle theme, while his duel proper primarily samples Cynthia’s encounter theme. It’s a clear acknowledgement that the latter has become a symbol feared by gamers around the world, and after those opening stings, the game even gives you a moment to catch your breath before hitting A and commencing the piano proper. Sato’s arrangement adds in this wonderful call-and-response as a flute and violin duel back and forth, as if all the nobles are uniting with you against Volo’s relentless attack. Her bells, usually employed to portray calmness and familiarity, become like church bells echoing across the pillar, reminding you what’s at stake. And Game Freak made sure this one-time callback wasn’t wasted: Volo’s fight is a brutal 6v6 that represents the only truly difficult Trainer battle until the true postgame.




As an aside, you might have seen this twist coming if you played Pokemon Masters EX, a spin-off gacha game which paired Cynthia with Giratina and remixed her encounter theme about a month prior to PLA’s release. This one’s arranged by either Shota Kageyama or Haruki Yamada: it’s honestly not a bad game if you care about Pokemon characters, I’ve put in a fair few hours on it myself, but it’s a gacha so I can’t in good faith recommend downloading it lol.




Then he pulls out his ace in the hole, the renegade conspicuously absent until now, Giratina. The PLA arrangement of the generic legendary theme plays, just like when you faced it in Diamond and Pearl. You whittle it down, you nearly lose the battle, but you eventually drain its health, all the while thinking — where’s the Origin Forme? Why isn’t the Platinum encounter theme playing? The monster falls back, a long beep is heard like an EKG monitor flatlining…then the real battle starts. A synthetic kick jumpstarts its heartbeat, and Go Ichinose doesn’t give you a second to breathe as it unleashes a Shadow Force on beat, throwing you right into a chaotic, violent arrangement of Masuda’s original, the bassline moving too fast to catch. Notably, once you defeat it, it flatlines again, indicating that you’ve finally defeated Volo’s hellscape. I have yet to find an upload that includes both the starting and the final flatline; the SMC has both of them but this one is the closest I could get.




A popular theory given credence by PLA is that the white deer is not Arceus at its full power: that it’s just one of the thousand arms of the Original One, a fraction of a being too powerful for us to comprehend. As we approach the Hall of Origin, these weird garbled instruments play back and forth, nonsense sounds that almost resemble voices transcribed to MIDI keys. No mortal was ever meant to be this close to God, and it’s almost like you can’t make heads or tails of what you’re experiencing.




Then you enter the arena, and come face-to-face with Arceus. The theme starts as a straightforward interpolation of the original timpani theme from HGSS, but with each phase, it gets faster and faster, before you enter phase 4 and you get…this. The theme starts glitching out, repeating itself and skipping back and forth, warping, as if space and time itself are beginning to shatter. You face Arceus’ final trial, and it taps into all of its incomprehensible power, and what we recognize as convention and structure are collapsing. The game (your ears?) cannot understand what’s happening. This is deleting files from the system and daring to think things would stay functional. This is biblically accurate Arceus.




Junichi Masuda’s main Pokémon theme appears just once, and you must capture Arceus and wait on the menu for a bit before hearing it. Set in minor key, it’s a solemn rendition on flute, slow and echoing, giving you a moment to reflect on your journey, a unique Pokémon adventure that shook up the formula. You imagine the player sitting atop a mountain playing it, trying to hold onto the memories of their past, a melody that sounds ever so familiar.




Some of the core themes of Arceus are loneliness, the familiar turned alien, and holding onto memories and nostalgia, and this soundtrack delivers on these themes beautifully in a way that subverts what we think of as a Pokemon soundtrack. It’s one of my favorite pieces of art associated with this series as a whole, and I really do hope this kind of conceptual interpolation becomes standard for Legends games. Legends ZA is coming soon (?), and I'm curious how they approach it. As Sato and Ichinose returned to their originals, I'm hoping the original XY team of Kageyama + Adachi + Sato get to rework their compositions again. Personal wishlist is that the final boss uses melodic elements from KISEKI.

Thanks for sticking with these posts. Next up, I'll probably write about how Minako Adachi breaks the conventions of what we think is Pokemon music. Or a deep dive into Go Ichinose's repeated motifs and elements. Not sure yet. I haven't started writing either of those yet.
 
One thing that's always stood out to me about the Legends Arceus soundtrack is how much its approach reminds me of Final Fantasy 7 Remake. Obviously we're not dealing with anything resembling Nobuo Uematsu's orchestral grandiosity, but there's still that underlying musical throughline of alternating between sprinklings of motifs of the classic soundtrack and highly experimental reimaginings, saving the no-frills faithful remixes for pivotal moments when the game really wants to grab you. It sounds kind of ridiculous to start thinking of The Heartwood whenever I listen to Jenova Dreamweaver and vice-versa, but they have pretty similar structures when you stop and think about it.

Maybe I'm just not in the loop but I can't think of many other major gaming remakes/legacy sequels that go for this kind of thing, usually it's a lot more straight-forward. FF7 Remake released a bit under 2 years before LA did, so depending on how early work on the soundtrack started some level of deliberate inspiration doesn't seem entirely out of the question.
 
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