Feb 24, 2007 19:27
For Assignment #2.
A warning: I come from a musical angle. A lot. Spoilers for the endings of VIII, IX, X, X-2, and XII.
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Layers of Harmony
the End Credits Idol Song as Apropos of the Heroine
Erica Kudisch
Following the advances in technology that allowed the implementation of vocal tracks within console games, Final Fantasy has capitalized on the use of a Hit Single to purportedly enhance the aesthetics of each individual story, and contribute to the development of the central romantic element. Every mainstream Final Fantasy title since VIII, with “Eyes On Me”, has appended this device, and in every incarnation the singer has been a young woman, and the question has been one of love in the face of adversity.
Though it can be said that all songs are songs of love, not all love is crosshaired on romance; however, the pop standards that have been woven into the framework of these games are often used as overt justification for the actions taken by the leading ladies, in the supposed name of love. Every song is implicitly, or explicitly, attached to an heroine. In most cases, it is intended to be indicative of her truest feelings. Through an analysis of the songs and their lyrics, I intend to elucidate some of these connections and why they are often problematic to the overarching message of the game, and to the role of the heroine in the narrative.
Final Fantasy VIII: Eyes on Me, Faye Wong
Within the context of the game, Eyes on Me is attributed to Julia Heartlily, the mother of heroine Rinoa Heartlily. The song is presented first as a piano solo with no lyrics-in fact, Julia laments to Laguna, the song’s subject, that she has not the skill to write lyrics or to sing-and then as either a jazz ensemble or a country dance. Thus a structural and harmonic analysis is also revealing.
Structurally, Eyes on Me follows one of several popular song tropes:
Introduction: Vaguely dissonant, pseudo-Asian and guitaristic. Subdominants in the orchestral preparation set us up with a pianistic V.
Verse: Pianistic, chordal texture. All an elaboration of the tonic, leading to a V7 of IV.
Chorus: Sweeping orchestral texture, in two similar statements. IV leads us almost immediately back to I.
Transition: Thins the texture sufficiently to return to
Verse: As before.
Chorus: As before.
Chorus: As before.
Outro: As the Introduction, ending on a fading dissonance.
The harmonic language is vaguely romantic in leaning; most changes in harmony are prepared according to tonal tenets, but many of the subdominants would be considered dissonant in a truly tonal context. This is in tune with Uematsu’s overall harmonic language from the game, which I would also describe as late romantic.
In a game so concerned with fate and circuitousness, it makes sense that the song end in the same relatively distinct sound world as it begins. When the context of the story is added, this is further entrenched; the lyrics that Julia eventually appends to the song are of the futility of her mutual love for a man who will nonetheless leave her.
When the subject of the song is transferred to Rinoa, who is plainly desirous of Squall, the futility takes on a lighter meaning. Whereas the case of Laguna and Julia is notably tragic, as Laguna heads off to war, and they have already displayed a connection, Squall is right there beside Rinoa when the lyrics of the song are revealed. Squall is actually a captive audience in that moment to Rinoa’s inner monologue and perceived tragedy. While Julia’s lyrics are literal to her, when appended to Rinoa they become about her not wanting to be left alone, rather than actually having been abandoned. Recalling the song’s (and game’s) emphasis on history repeating, and taking into account that the story itself relies on a time-loop, we can actually infer that Rinoa, in appropriating the song, has changed nothing.
Eyes on Me expresses Rinoa’s desire for Squall to look her way. While she is successful in obtaining this, the song continues to be one of futility. It is also worth noting that the aesthetics of the character of Rinoa were modeled directly on those of the singer.
Final Fantasy IX: Melodies of Life, Emiko Shiratori
Again, the song is used in the context of the game itself and presented first without lyrics; and, indeed, with harmony only implicit. The heroine Garnet/Dagger vocalizes the chorus on nonce-syllables, amid a flock of the free birds that have been symbolically associated with her desire for freedom throughout the game. Appropriately, the song is also one of freedom; Melodies of Life evokes absolution from the grief of a lost love, and though the singer desires never to forget the song’s subject, she feels she can persist with her own life.
The musical language of the song is much simpler than that of VIII, but still more harmonically advanced than IX’s overall modal feel. Harmonically, the song is built on a stepwise falling progression in F major, which has long been popularly standardized. There are no dissonant moments in the entirety of the piece, but otherwise its form follows the exact same pattern as Eyes on Me. Thus we can again infer that repetition is one of the crucial elements of the song.
We are not given the lyrics until they become appropriate to the character; at the game’s close, Garnet believes she has lost Zidane, and one year later has determined herself to have the strength to stand on her own. However, he returns to her (with much bravado), thus nullifying the potential necessity of her achievement.
The song takes on additional weight when excised from the game’s context; Sakaguchi, when commissioning that song, was grieving over his recently departed mother. The romantic/sexual dimension of the song then pales for the filial; Garnet has become queen, and succeeded her mother. When we first meet Garnet she is already in the process of this bereavement-Queen Brahne is no longer herself-and when Brahne actually is killed her daughter looks upon her with forgiveness. Perhaps, then, the song is not about Zidane, but about the matriarchal weight thrust upon Garnet’s shoulders, and the loss she feels the need to recover from is not that of her beloved.
Final Fantasy X: Suteki da ne?, Rikki
Musically, Suteki da ne? (Isn’t it wonderful?) is a great departure from the former two idol songs. It is pitched in a minor mode, does not have an English version, and the use of dissonance is markedly higher, in accordance with Uematsu’s Okinawan pitch-language.
However, the lyrics are same old, same old, love and loss. The singer’s angle in this particular case is one of never having had the man in the first place-which is a use of dramatic irony, considering that Tidus does not, in point of fact, exist.
Again, Uematsu makes no headway from the same exact song-trope as the prior two. However, the chorus actually requires modulation from the verse, and is pitched in a major mode with emphasis on the tritone (the raised B on “sutekii da-a ne” and “ikita-a-I-i yo”). In the cases of the other songs, where the implication of a modulation to IV was powerful but fleeting, Suteki da ne’s modulation to a parallel major is deceptive, especially with the addition of that raised B.
That the song is presented to us during a love scene does not escape me, and is strongly ironic. For once, the words flow not directly from the mouth of the heroine-in this case, Yuna’s mouth is otherwise occupied-and yet she sings of the simple pleasures of her life all being a dream. The directorial application of this song is thus more advanced and useful in characterization than in the previous titles, as well as dramatically sound.
Final Fantasy X-2: 1000 Words, Koda Kumi
(Real Emotion is not considered to actually be Yuna’s for purposes of this essay).
As the implicit purpose of X-2 is to undo, or at least pervert, everything that was done in X, so follows the choice of song. 1000 Words, presented diegetically in a “let’s all stop the fighting” scene, is effectively used to conjure Tidus back from the dead, and does so by reinstating the conventions of consonance and western tonal harmony that had been eschewed over the course of X. This is simply done, with no subtlety, and with extreme bearing on the transformation of Yuna’s overall character.
The structure and harmonic language of 1000 Words are strikingly similar to those of Eyes on Me, though the song’s message is a good deal less passive. Through her connection to Lenne, Yuna has become an active instrument in her own desires, and the urgent lyrics and orchestral constructions of the song beckon her love to return to her.
However, in order to preserve tension, and because of its actual dramatic role in the story, the chorus does not properly cadence, and the song fades as opposed to resolving at all. This is in tandem with the game’s two possible endings; either Tidus hears Yuna’s call, or he does not.
Final Fantasy XII: Kiss Me Goodbye, Angela Aki
In perhaps the most gratuitous and out-of-place musical moment in the entire game, a fully tonal love ballad surfaces out of an otherwise chromatic soundtrack, during the ending. XII was not about romance by any stretch of the imagination; in the process of the game, the ensemble cast eschews all forms of personal desire, severing romantic, fraternal, and filial bonds with notables living and dead in favor of preserving the livelihood and future of the world.
It is thus difficult to append Kiss Me Goodbye to either Ashe or Penelo, though Ashe seems the more likely choice, and even more difficult to presume that there is a transitive target for the song’s yearnings.
The song only makes sense when applied out of context. It was not written by the game’s composer-this is plainly obvious, when one takes into account the technical finesse of Sakimoto’s language as opposed to Uematsu’s-nor was it integrated thematically into the story in the way of every other song in this analysis. I would argue, then, that it not be considered a reflection of the heart of any character. Kiss Me Goodbye is another one of Square’s cash cows.
With the increased presence of the heroine as romantically distanced from the hero, the use of idol songs takes on a more sophisticated and pointed significance. Rinoa’s dimension as other than a plot device is hidden in the song’s connection to her mother. Garnet’s loss takes on a newer, and more moving, meaning when it is observed to be a person other than Zidane of whom she sings. In gauging the songs used to characterize Yuna, this shift is marked by the excision of all musical originality and lyrical subtlety. And the extraneous nature of Kiss Me Goodbye characterizes no one, for good or ill, subconsciously reasserting that the story was not about romance.
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