Tropu‘hopu, Secret Paradise/Roque Island, Full Steam Ahead

Track 4-2: Tropu‘hopu, Secret Paradise (Day/Night)

When it comes to music for towns with a tropical-island feel, I always think first and foremost of Costa del Sol from FFVII, haha! Perhaps because that made such a strong impression, I have a slightly twisted feel for RPG music that says “tropical island equals Bossa Nova!”, and that’s why this piece sounds the way it does. (I wonder what the reality is here— what kind of music do tropical-ish areas in RPGs make you think of?)

Bossa Nova originated in South America, and its overall feel is somehow languid, as if the air were flowing lazily past, and I think that works well as the sound for a tropical resort like this.

Bossa Nova provides the basic overall feel, but if you listen carefully, you can hear the various ways I strove to create a sense of consistency for the region as a whole. For example, the kalimba arpeggios blended into the arrangement are reminiscent of the themes for Toto‘haha and Ochette. Please keep an ear out for that when you listen to this piece.

Track 4-4: Roque Island, Full Steam Ahead (Day/Night)

I like the “Full Steam Ahead” in this title a lot, and it’s exactly what I was trying to express musically: the idea that this world is about to modernize following the invention of the steam engine, and that the beating heart of this process makes the whole island pulse. [The original title literally translates as “Roque Island, Heartbeat of Steam.”—Trans.]

The sounds making up the rhythm throughout this piece are samples of actual iron and wood and other substances being struck, enhanced and edited as synthesizer sounds. My goal was to create something that sounded like an engine’s heartbeat. The main melody is played on cello and trombone, both low- to midrange instruments, which makes the sound feel solid and weighty, as if its center of gravity had been lowered.

This trombone solo is played by Nobuhide Handa (@hannobu).

In the night version, by contrast, I tried to convey a sense of the pulse quieting as the island goes to sleep following the day’s work. As the workers rest, the island slumbers; when morning comes, its pulse will beat again—that’s the kind of atmosphere I aimed to express.

Translation: Matt Treyvaud