The Acoustic Ecology of Video Games

To Hela and back

The video game Hela is not due out until later this year, and in the lead up to that release, the developer has been posting videos, most of them short glimpses of gameplay. Hela is described as “a cozy co-op adventure where you play as a tiny mouse exploring a magical world inspired by the forests and wilderness of Northern Sweden.” It’s not natural, at least not in the sense of being realistic. Reads the description appended to one or more of those videos: “It will be up to you to help a kind witch care for the land she has protected for generations, while you explore, experiment, and create your own adventure.”

And among these promotional videos is a expansive, continuous, three-hour segment showing some of the mice characters resting out in nature. The point is less what you see, as the camera remains in the same position throughout, than what you hear. Sounds of running water, bending trees, and birdsong fill the air. Given the immersive nature of this sort of game, the advance taste of the world of Hela makes a certain amount of sense. There is, in effect, an acoustic ecology to modern video game playing. One can gauge the health of a given game — in the sense of its world-building cohesiveness, its level of detail, its version of realism — by just listening to it.

Hamburg Glitch

From Hamburg, Germany–based keinseier

Very nicely done, slow-build, ambient-infused glitch track from keinseier, all the better because it’s a live video, a precise work-out on the Tonverk, a polyphonic multi-sampler, with each step in plain view. Listen as the held tones give way to a rising momentum, dotted with these little short-circuit snaps of firecracker disruption. More from keinseier, based in Hamburg, Germany, at keinseier.bandcamp.com.

Rudy Rucker’s Software Embodiment

OMAC Your Enthusiasm

The sheer messiness of flesh and blood (and data and robotics) is essential to Software’s role in the birth of cyberpunk as a genre. The first of the Ware books, Software arrived in 1982, two years before William Gibson’s Neuromancer, four years before Bruce Sterling’s Mirrorshades anthology of cyberpunk short stories, and a full decade before Neal Stephenson’s Snow Crash. Now, there is plenty of software in Software, but ultimately the operative term is the first half of the title, not the second. What’s really at work in this first book isn’t a tale of mere technological singularity — in which data rules supreme, outpacing human cognition, blah blah blah — but quite the contrary, one in which embodiment is explored as the essence of life. How punk is that?

That’s from my new essay about Rudy Rucker’s classic early cyberpunk novel Software, which turned out to be the first of four books in a tetralogy (or quartet) that ran for nearly 20 years, from 1982 to 2000. The essay is part of a series on hilowbrow.com, “OMAC Your Enthusiasm,” in which the contributors write about “a favorite sf novel or comic from the Seventies (1974–1983).” Below is the full list. The ones in blue have already been published. Check them out at hilobrow.com, starting with editor Josh Glenn’s introduction. The “OMAC” set of essays is a kind of sequel to 2024’s “Vurt Your Enthusiasm,” in which contributors wrote about “science fiction novels and comics from the Eighties (1984–1993, in our periodization schema).” For Vurt I wrote about writer-illustrator Howard Chaykin’s comics classic American Flagg! (the exclamation point being part of the title). Eagle-eyed readers of disquiet.com (or my Instagram account around the same time) might have noticed I was (re)reading a paperback of Software back in November.

Scratch Pad: Scores, HTML, Reading

From the past week

At the end of each week, I usually collate a lightly edited collection of recent comments I’ve made on social media, which I think of as my public scratch pad. I tag on what books I may have finished reading. Knowing I’ll revisit my social media posts, I’ve found, serves as a positive and mellowing influence on my online activity. I mostly hang out on Mastodon (at post.lurk.org/@disquiet), and I’m also trying out a few others. And I generally take weekends off social media.

▰ I posted: We live in the golden age of movie scores (that is, movie — and TV — scores being released as albums). But that means we also live in the golden age of recognizing just how much most movie scores sound alike, or more to the point alike within a type.

And Ethan Hein replied: “In grad school I learned that the homogeneity is partially due to regular risk aversion but also due to the rise of very detailed temp scores. The music editor makes an entire placeholder score by remixing and editing existing scores and then the composer has to just SBD it (Same But Different).” And then he added something particularly interesting about a later John Williams piece for Star Wars: “A guy in my PhD cohort wrote his dissertation about the Duel of the Fates sequence in the Phantom Menace. John Williams wrote the score, they recorded the London Symphony Orchestra at Abbey Road, but then they made over a thousand edits to the sequence.”

▰ I asked: Anyone have trouble getting Bandcamp embeds to work in self-hosted WordPress and then figure out how to fix the problem? Thanks.

And then: Michael Donaldson, aka Q-Burns Abstract Message, aka editor of the excellent Tonearm, sorted it out for me: “it’s been a while but I seem to remember the WordPress code never worked for me — I always had to just use the regular HTML embed code in an HTML block.”

▰ Finished reading two books this week: Dashiell Hammett’s The Maltese Falcon and Camden Joy’s 35 Days of Fe, about the Souled American album Fe (I bought the book at the Souled American concert last week).