REV!EW:

• Riding an Animal with Large Paws:

The soft, pulsing chords drift carelessly but with purpose above a soft, deftly articulated and masterfully compressed cello bassline. Playful children’s bells create counterpoint in mood over what feels otherwise like a militaristic march, albeit the sort one would sooner identify with dwarves in [copyright of the Tolkien Foundation] than anything of Our World. The title couldn’t be more apt, though utterly unpredictable in detail; I can only begin to imagine what sort of a mythic, quadrupedal, fire-breathing beast is pacing so softly yet so regally through my Kingdom. A stern minor progression drones in the background, though the piece sounds modal instead of simply Aeolian, trudging along at a leisurely 120 B.P.M. over a Medieval soundscape. (Though the piece is technically a march in Em, the frequent introduction of major-sounding flutters overhead, like birds, usher in the use of regal borrowed chords, most noteworthy of which is the A Major in the twenty-fifth measure, allowing the minor melody to briefly flit in and out of the unmistakable E Dorian Mode: a true stroke of compositional genius.) The only stylistic drawback is the unimpeachable “click” each time the track repeats a cycle. The application of reverb or a note sustained across the bar-line might help us to overcome this disruptive speed bump in an otherwise seamless ambience.

• Our Hideout Behind the Waterfall:

Mystifying, high-pitched winds quickly find their footing in a lush, aquatic romp before returning to their home in the sopran(in?)o skies. All I can advise here is an E.Q. that emphasized the midrange rather than the high tones, which retain a piercing quality more suited for horror than adventure. This piece is short enough and dramatic enough to be the album’s closer, though I must sympathize with the composer’s intuition about its strength as a Middle Movement. Were it simply expanded, perhaps for up to ten minutes, its unequivocally cool, Disney-sounding string/wind riffs would satisfy the anticipations they so coquettishly inspire in the listener, yet at present they only retain the serenity of a haiku: providing us a taste of adventure before suddenly disappearing for a very long time.

• It’s Always Fun with You:

This is fun if you like drinking tea and hanging out with anthropomorphic owls in fairytale woods. The piece follows the same instrumental paradigm as its preceding tracks, using pizzicato cello to lay the groundwork as winds embellished with light but powerful, distinctive glockenspiel glimmers sing a song without words that proves Kierkegaard wrong in denouncing the wordless power of music, all in a few short, nonsensical but sincere phrases. The composer entertains her guests in the manor (pun intended) she knows best: starting with a simple but iconic melody, carved from a fluid chord progression that is teased long before it is revealed, in a masterful web of harmonic counterpoint, a communal call-and-response chorus that, with a gently rustling cymbal crash, sets the stage for the Guest of Honour: an indulgent Cello Solo.

We can all expect many great things from this promising new soundtrack artist, whose music is not without a healing quality and innocence we need as millennial gamers. I eagerly [and S!NCERELY] await further dreamscapes.

Lin Ji.