Magic melancholy

Everything has already been said about The Sims, a game that was released at the turn of the millennium and enthralled entire generations in front of their CRT screens ... at least in terms of gameplay. But I'm not here for content, I'm here for opinion! And for me, The Sims was magical. Not just because of its sixth add-on, Makin' Magic, but because of the revolutionary gameplay principle that let me control the lives of digital people and steer them through all the highs and especially the lows.

If you did this, as I did at the tender age of eight, for my Sims this usually meant an existence comparable to that of an average (FDP) Free Democratic Party voter who had achieved immense wealth through illicit means and had to spend his twilight years surrounded by butlers, gardeners, a robot and an undead cleaning lady in an oversized and tastelessly furnished villa. For me, Sims was not only a revelation for the entertainment medium of video games. No, like so many games of that era, it also left its mark on me musically. Sims-players hear nothing groundbreaking, nothing unprecedented, no experiments and certainly nothing unknown. They hear a piano, they hear violins. And I hear my childhood.

Games from the The Sims-series

Die Sims (2000)

The Sims 2 (2004)

For me, what composer Jerry Martin has created for Sims is not just the perfect accompaniment for a very special game, but rather a feeling, a kind of encapsulation of life. Each track creates a different mood, sometimes cheerful and carefree, sometimes pensive and melancholic: Under Construction , with its dominant, deep chords and dancing high notes, testifies to a zest for life, suggests tackling and getting going - life is beautiful and we can do anything. Buying Lumber , on the other hand, is slow, almost crawling across the tonal floor, devoid of energy and always trying to pick itself up. It's not depressing, it's touching. And although these impressions are diametrically opposed, they belong together: no shadow without light, no joy without sadness ... you know how it is.

Now my opinion is obviously nostalgically distorted and my perception pathetically transfigured. But unlike a Anno 1602, where I love every track because Anno was one of my first gaming experiences, my enthusiasm for some pieces from the Sims-score can perhaps be better understood by non-initiates. After all, we're hearing typical new-age piano pieces paired with the classic feel-good sprinkling of a 50s sitcom à la WandaVision. In this respect, the music is nothing really new, but the combination makes it something unique. It's a kind of jam session that seems unplanned and yet doesn't bore. 

To be honest, I've been avoiding this review for a long time because I wanted it to be something special. It should do justice to the work of Martin, who not only gave us some of the most beautiful pieces in video game history, but also unknowingly prompted me to start learning the piano. Sounds cheesy, but it was like that ... or something like that, I don't know. I was very young, impressionable and now have the memory of my dog Corvo when it comes to relieving myself before bedtime.

I realized that it makes no sense for me to discuss each track in detail, because it's the overall work that wins you over. At least if you have the complete work at hand. Going back to the actual score, I would like to point out that the original soundtrack (OST) only contains a small selection of the important tracks. Unfortunately, these had to make way for the comparatively unspectacular in-game radio buzz, which includes tracks such as the banjo intermezzo SIM Hoe Down, the rock imitation SIM Hagar or the fiery, irrelevant Samba SIM - a shame! Because even though Mall Rat and Groceries are two of the more listenable tracks in the score, some of the hits that can only be found in the gamerip.

These include the iconic main theme The Sims, which greets us with its joyful violin melody when we boot up the game, as well as the life-affirming Building Mode 3, the upbeat Buy Mode 3 as well as Neighborhood 4. The latter in particular, with its bossa nova blues, is likely to remain in every player's memory. The bittersweet Building Mode 4 and Building Mode 6 , which combine heartache with seemingly boundless optimism, are particularly absent.

Even if I haven't gone into all the side tracks in this review, everything has been said from my side - at least about the main game. If you haven't heard the music yet, you must (yes, must!) listen to it and be enchanted. And if you'd like to read a few more words from the composer, you can take a look at this article from AnotherMag . It tells you a bit about the process of creating the game and the music. In any case, I'm going to reminisce for a while and gaze dreamily at my piano, which is quietly gathering dust.