As a teenager, I pilgrimaged to the Nintendo Store in New York City with my parents as part of a family vacation. My most distinctive memory of that visit is of “Terra’s Theme” blaring inside, and of my father, a gamer but certainly no RPGFan, whistling the iconic melody. That’s the compositional power of Nobuo Uematsu: his melodies are catchy and poppy enough to get on board with immediately. They sow associations with times and places both in-game and out. You can trace the complexity of Uematsu’s soundtracks ramping up from Final Fantasy I through V until, with Final Fantasy VI, he cemented a level of sonic storytelling never heard before—and rarely heard since. Even listening now, I can see the Magitek armour plodding through the snow, see the Figaro brothers flipping a coin for who must become king, see Celes singing on the balcony. The music of Final Fantasy VI is hugely ambitious, operatic, and inseparable from one of, if not the, greatest JRPGs of all time.
As a quick note, I’ll be using the modern translations of track titles, because nobody wants to read about ‘Tina’ and ‘Mash.’
“Omen” opens with coalescing organ notes in clear Dracula fashion, before sliding into a medley of themes from key story moments. By the time the album plays through and loops on itself, the brilliance of the foreshadowing and tone-setting in “Omen” becomes fully apparent and suitably impressive. Much of the beginning of Disc One (of Three) is rife with anxiety in a Shakespearean fashion, highlighted in “Awakening” and its soft rendition of the melody from “Terra’s Theme.”
Things then move into a series of character themes that, as a whole, are arguably the best in all of Final Fantasy. The self-assured intrepidity in “Locke’s Theme”; the noble, trumpeting march of “Edgar and Sabin’s Theme”; the cool Western whistle in “Shadow’s Theme”; the howling verses in “Cyan’s Theme” giving way to soaring, dignified chords; the elegant synth-contrabass of “Gau’s Theme,” which fleshes the wild boy out with more tragedy and potential than the rest of the game affords him; the taut and hand-wringing circus antics of “Kefka’s Theme”; the hopeful lullaby-melody of “Celes’s Theme” climbing its way out from an unassured beginning. Uematsu imbues these 16-bit clumps of pixels with a shocking amount of character and pathos necessary to the game’s stakes.
Disc One also provides the rocking, bass-propelled “Battle” music and ensuing funk-rock “Victory Fanfare” you’re certain to hear a thousandfold but never tire of. Boss theme “The Decisive Battle” is a real standout with its organ and bass combo underlaid with crunchy guitars. Another favourite is the haunted ballroom track “Phantom Forest” and the unexpected turns it swivels through. “Kids Run Through the City” is a tropey JRPG town theme, yet nails the nostalgic, comforting vibe it strives for.
Disc Two smartly opens with two bangers: the oft-musically referenced “Terra’s Theme” (said once by Uematsu to be his favorite of all his themes) and the slumber-submerged “Coin of Fate”—heads says this song will make you misty-eyed. “Terra’s Theme” doubles as an excellent, propelling overworld theme for much of the game, mixing its forlorn whistling melody with a nonetheless determined, rolling bass. Show it to anyone, and it will sink its catchy teeth into them. In general, Disc Two is the “weakest” of the three, being half-full of incidental and gag tracks and some lesser character themes. The goofy “Mog’s Theme,” now iconic in the series, is aped too closely and too immediately by “Strago’s Theme.” (You wish you were Mog, Strago. Get your own theme!)
However, the heartbroken “Forever Rachel” features some amazing interplay with “Locke’s Theme” that really elevates a potentially forgettable NPC. “Relm’s Theme” stands out for how unique it is, ambiently floating in still waters and stamped with its synth-bagpipes instrumentation. “Setzer’s Theme” would make a good airship theme were it not overshadowed by the very groovy “The Airship Blackjack,” which will forever conjure Mode 7 expanses of mountains and seas whipping by below.
Ahh, the opera. Combined with the visuals and Ultros boss fight, Final Fantasy VI’s Opera House sequence is unforgettable. Musically, “Overture” sets the stage for the reluctant Celes to perform in lieu of opera star Maria—“Aria Di Mezzo Carattere” is that show-stopping performance. Despite the technical limitations of the SNES soundchip, the pseudo-opera vocals in “Aria” are earnest and emotionally arresting, backed by every synth layer possible, including a very FF “Prelude” flavored harp. This song has since been reimagined in seven languages for the Pixel Remaster release, but there’s something universally touching about this original SNES-lish language. “Wedding Waltz – Duel” and “Grand Finale” convey so much movement, far more than the game’s subdued pixel art can.
At last, we come to the World of Ruin. I’ll refrain from spoiling Kefka’s plot because I trust that anyone who’s played this game has the final act of FFVI seared into their memory. Disc Three opens with foreboding and a tinge of panic, expertly conveyed in the strained boss theme “Battle to the Death” (or to translate the more apt Japanese track name, “Desperate Battle”). The heroic movements in the song inevitably give way to its spiraling, hopeless intro. “Dark World” (ominously in JP: “Death World”) is soul-crushing, the funereal bells and whipping wind overpowering the groggy melody. Hope springs anew in the final overworld theme, “Searching for Friends,” which feels like a tonal and instrumental mirror to “Terra’s Theme.” By “Kefka’s Tower,” (JP: “Tower of the Evil God”—Uematsu killed it with these titles!) the stakes are at an all-time high. The anxiety that has burbled beneath the entirety of the soundtrack has had its bursting moment and now must relent to sheer force of will. All that’s left is an incredible final encounter and the two most ambitious songs of the entire Super Nintendo.
“Dancing Mad” in its original form is nearly eighteen minutes long. That’s longer than the bulk of SNES games got for their entire soundtracks. It takes its time swelling up the synth-pipe organ, assisted by deep ringing bells, breathless, ticking melodies, and increasingly distorted and guttural synth-choir vocals. Like the boss battle with the “Statue of the Gods,” the song builds up through four tiers. It’s easy to see some inspirations for FFVII’s “One-Winged Angel” in the second tier, and the penultimate tier is very baroque and deceptively elegant, in juxtaposition with the monolithic horror on screen. The goosebumps-inducing return of the game’s intro chords announces the fourth section, and then a very carnivalesque, Kefka-laugh-filled boss theme ensues. There’s a turn in the final minutes of “Dancing Mad” where the song slows, when the cognitive dissonance of the battle becomes clear: victory is impossible, defeat unthinkable. It’s not my favourite song, but it’s an affecting experience.
As remarkable as “Dancing Mad” is, I must give credit to the nearly twenty-two-minute credits track, “Balance is Restored,” which plays out as a resolution for the sizable cast and a triumphant return home in the classical hero’s journey sense. It revisits all the main character motifs and, in cases such as Celes’ and Locke’s, intertwines them in new ways. It’s weighty, exultant, and encapsulates everything you’ve fought through and fought for. Things wind down then, as the final song in the soundtrack is Final Fantasy’s eternal refrain, the “Prelude,” here somewhat slowed and pitched up from its Final Fantasy IV variation. Still, it feels like you’ve finally come to rest beside an old friend.
I feel confident in saying that no Super Nintendo soundtrack delivers on the ambitious storytelling and emotional scale of Final Fantasy VI, which transcends its technical limitations. It’s Uematsu’s grand opera, rife with unforgettable motifs in much the same way as John Williams’ Star Wars scores, and it would be impossible to imagine one of the all-time JRPG greats without this music.
Final Fantasy VI’s original soundtrack is available for streaming and can be purchased on Square Enix’s Japanese website.
