Mass Effect 3’s Musical Mastery (script)

A few disclaimers before we begin:

1. I have no formal training in any of this. I took one class on Music Appreciation in the Before Times and though I do plan on studying music at college again, maybe when the world isn’t collapsing in on itself, for now I am just a nerd with ADHD who has been hyperfixated on this for about two years. *Shep: “Did you say two years?”*
2. At the time of recording this, I’m three and a half months on T. Some of my script was recorded a couple weeks ago, a bunch of it I’ve had to rerecord, and none of it sounds the same. It’s outta my hands, and I’m not even sorry, because this is euphoric.
3. Finally, I will be spoiling the entirety of the Mass Effect Trilogy. I’m writing this with the assumption that you’re at least familiar with the games, their plots, and the main characters. This thing is long enough without having to give introductions and backstory for everyone who shows up. Also note that though I may critique this game in places, as well as the others, I do in fact adore all four (yes four) *MEA clip* games in the Mass Effect universe. This is not the place for bitching about any of them. It’s N7 Day and I wanna share the love, so let’s get on to the praise.

(Intro)

Mass Effect 3 is musically the best game in the series. Probably even the best out of BioWare’s entire catalogue of games. I’m not trying to sound pretentious when I say this, nor am I here to convince you that this game is somehow worthy of being considered high art. It’s a sci-fi zombie third person shooter, *insert gameplay* and it received a shit-ton of backlash when it came out for how the conclusion was handled. But the game’s music is amazingly well developed. Despite whatever narrative shortcomings there are with the conclusion, the composers put together a score that is narratively significant with tracks that develop beautifully.

Not even Starkid can distract me from how much I love it.

Top billings for the Mass Effect Trilogy soundtracks go to Jack Wall and Sam Hulick, who were hired on as co-composers for the first game before other talent was brought to the project as well. For Mass Effect 3, the team was composed of Sam Hulick, Clint Mansell, Christopher Lennertz, Sascha Dikiciyan, and Cris Velasco. Hulick’s works are the ones that I am particularly enamoured with, but the team on the whole composed an absolutely amazing score.

In interviews, Wall and Hulick have mentioned that the soundtrack for the first game was heavily inspired by sci-fi movies from the 80s like Bladerunner, Tron, and a German synth band called Tangerine Dream, and it definitely shows. This calling back to evoke nostalgia worked in the game’s favor, with the soundtrack being praised for its unique sound and even winning IGN’s award for best original score. The game itself may not have aged as well as its successors, but the first Mass Effect’s success ensured the continuation of the series. In Mass Effect 2 the score transitioned from a mostly synth sound to incorporating orchestration, something that Sam Hulick has observed as being more cinematic and an indicator of the series’ maturation compared to the first installment, which carried on further into the third game. Jack Wall, however, has differing opinions. But first I’d like to talk about what, in my opinion, cinematic music is.

I often hear people describing a game’s music as cinematic because it uses orchestration. Mass Effect Andromeda’s score has been referred to as more cinematic than the trilogy because of tracks like A Better Beginning. And yes, this music is beautiful, but I wouldn’t consider it to be cinematic. To me, something cinematic means that it contributes to the overall storytelling of a piece of media. Camera work, sound design, and music coming together to strengthen the narrative. Music is cinematic when it uses motifs and themes to represent characters and places, though these techniques have been used in the world of music for hundreds of years. The repetition of these musical ideas creates connections that an audience can recognize, and it deepens their relationship to the story being told.

Video game music is a far more complicated endeavor, because in general it isn’t trying to keep your attention. These tracks are often meant to fill in silence, add atmosphere, and help influence the emotions that the developer wants you to feel while playing a game. This type of music is referred to as “Incidental” music, and even to untrained ears you can get a feel for how these two differentiate. Unlike cinematic tracks, incidental music often has very little evolution throughout the piece. Movies use this type of music as well, often during action scenes or just to fill in the background. In the context of a game, incidental tracks use their less complicated nature to allow for looping during idle time or during action. For example, a fight in a game might take you ten or more minutes to complete, but the length of the track is only about three minutes in total. The evolution of the track may change slightly depending on the stages of a fight, less intense during the initial battle but ramping up when a boss appears. The development of the music is often dependent upon the actions that the player takes during that fight. One of my favorite instances of this sort of evolution is in Supergiant Games’ Hades. During the boss fight against the big guy himself, the track “God of the Dead” morphs from this relatively even paced theme into a frantic heavy metal line when he returns to full health and the fight proceeds to get fucking epic.

I say this to assure you that I do love traditional video game scoring and I’m not just being pretentious. I wrote most of this script while listening to various soundtracks; however, I am a massive fucking nerd. I really love music that I can put time and energy into thinking about. So this is how I’m making the distinction between these types of music, and how I’ll be referring to them throughout the rest of this video. Incidental is background, cinematic contributes to narrative.

And while I’m here, for those uninitiated, the word “diegetic” refers to sounds that exist within the scene, such as characters talking or gunfire. Diegetic music is music that the characters can hear, vs the musical scoring that only the audience can hear.

As a story based RPG with third person shooting action, Mass Effect 3 beautifully combines its incidental and cinematic tracks. Though, as of 2019, Jack Wall disagrees. Which is what sent me down this rabbit hole to begin with.

In an interview with Sebastian from Obilisk Gaming at 2019’s Soundtrack Cologne, Jack Wall briefly spoke of his work on the Mass Effect trilogy and expressed his disappointment with the third game’s music. First with its reuse of themes from the previous games, and then with the sound design of the prologue mission, which…

*sigh*

I’d like to briefly reiterate that I don’t have any formal music training. But I am an avid consumer of media, and in general it seems like it would be a good idea to maintain a cohesive thematic through line for your series. Music is used in these types of media to connect with your audience. Reusing musical themes and ideas isn’t necessarily laziness, but when done properly it instead creates an identity for a series that a viewer can develop a connection to. When you hear *insert Star Wars bwaam* you know exactly where you are. So when you hear *insert Mass Effect/Normandy theme* you should get a similar feeling. Mass Effect 2’s prologue signaled this shift in musical styling, which took away some of the original identity but subsequently created a new one for the game and series going forward.

The original Mass Effect theme returns in the third game, during the intro scrawl. To me, it captures the anxiety of coming home again after a long time away, and sets the scene so well. We’ve opened the game with these worried, bassy strings and brass, adding tension and hinting at what we already know is coming. Then our familiar theme brings us back around, before fading out and leaving us with the ambient sound.

The sound design in this first level is so well done, and allows for the impact of the Reapers’ arrival to break through the quiet that’s been established. As Shepard makes their way through the newly formed wreckage of Alliance Headquarters we’re left with the noise of the city: the rush of shuttles and fighters flying through the air and the blaring of Reaper weaponry carving through civilization as we know it.

The lack of music finally breaks when Shepard finds the kid in the vents. It’s muffled by the chaos outside, but the opening piano idea of An End Once And For All plays as they approach; it’s a touch of musical foreshadowing before it suddenly cuts out and we’re left again with the noise of the city.

The prologue culminates in Leaving Earth, written by Clint Mansell, and is one of my favorite pieces of game music ever. Leaving Earth not only highlights the tragedy and horror of the scene, but is a great example of how Shepard is represented musically in this soundtrack by the piano.

It’s an idea that was touched on in the previous two games, with the piano being used to highlight emotional and dramatic moments. Mass Effect 1 leaned heavily on a traditional military band aesthetic, with horns and percussion, to musically describe Shepard. It highlighted the importance of their role as Commander and the model of humanity that they represented. Musically it turns Commander Shepard into *Miranda: “a hero, a bloody icon”*, a contrast to the actual character that Shepard gets to become in the sequels.

In Mass Effect 1 the piano is used in a few notable places. First used during the mission on Virmire just after deciding which of the human companions to leave behind, and then later featured as the main instrument in the Love Theme. The piano also makes a brief appearance after Sovereign’s defeat, just before Shepard reveals that they’re still alive, but that military aesthetic comes back soon after and persists through the rest of the game.

The trilogy’s second game chooses to use music differently, with the addition of orchestration indicating this change in direction. The piano does have some significance, however most of the music in Mass Effect 2 is incidental, playing as a backdrop to combat rather than as a narrative enhancement. The game strongly prefers to let the diegetic noise linger and create tension in its scenes, only using music for these moments a few times. The piano is found in tracks that have little to do with Shepard themself, such as in Thane and Grunt’s themes. And yet, it does make an attempt to highlight some of Shepard’s more dramatic moments. Rather appropriately, the piano’s return at the end of “The Attack” is a short, strained musical idea that plays as we watch the person who we were die in the vacuum of space. But it doesn’t resolve. The last note hangs, waiting, but is met with silence. The old Commander is dead, although their story is far from over. Now we get to meet them for the first time all over again.

The piano is also featured throughout the game with the track, Reflections. While it’s often considered to be Mass Effect 2’s romance theme, it’d be more accurate to describe this piece as a representation of Shepard’s connections to their companions. Reflections plays first on Horizon, just the opening idea of the piece, as the Virmire Survivor comes into the scene, before it shifts into Vigil. Vigil is the Trilogy’s main piece of music used to call back to Mass Effect 1, and… I’ll get to that one. But Reflections comes back later on, before the attack on the Collector Base. Assuming that you’ve romanced someone, either during ME1 or 2, the piece plays as Shepard shares a sentimental moment or evening with the person that they have come to care for.

In Mass Effect 3 the idea of musical representation gets expanded upon and given a chance to develop into something narratively significant. By now, Shepard is a relatively well defined character in their own right, regardless of which path of morality the player takes, allowing them a chance to have their own evolution throughout the game’s score.

Leaving Earth is a perfect example of this representation in action and how it can contribute to the narrative, as it foreshadows the main plot of the game.

The piece starts out with whole note chords, punctuating Shepard’s reluctance to abandon Anderson and the tension they feel as they watch the shuttles aiding in the evacuation process. The blaring brass that has come to be associated with the Reapers blasts through the scene as a scout approaches, accompanied by intense percussion. The piano develops as the anxiety builds before strings quietly come to support from the background, before accompanying in tandem. The rest of the orchestra is then layered over these ideas, and the piano fades into a supportive role, keeping the beat while the music develops and swells, until the orchestra fades back out, leaving us with the piano and it’s final bassy tone.

The piano has overcome the brass.

While I can now easily point to how the piano interacts with the narrative in order to demonstrate how it is representing Shepard throughout the game, I cannot do that with the string section. Because unfortunately for me, strings are a standard element in nearly every orchestra. But, there are a few tracks where it feels as though the strings are representative of Shepard’s companions and their connections to each other. Leaving Earth is one of them, as the strings come in to work together with the piano, it feels indicative of Shepard’s reconnection with their companions in the fight against their greater enemy. The rest of the orchestra represents the allies that Shepard gathers throughout the game, all coming together to defeat the Reapers once and for all, concluding with Shepard dealing the final blow.

Clint Mansell’s work on this track is absolutely breathtaking to me. It contributes to the narrative perfectly, capturing the anxiety and tension in the scene, while also being a wonderful example of musical storytelling in itself. This prologue mission is fantastic and sets the stage so well for the rest of the game.

Which I am now going to talk about in about as much depth. Because I’ve spent two years ruminating on this topic, so I have no choice but to get it out into the world.

So after all of that set up, let’s keep going.

Sam Hulick was the composer assigned to this mission, scoring the tracks, “Mars” and “A Cerberus Agent”. Mars creates a fantastic sense of anxiety against the forces standing between Shepard and the data that they’ve been sent to retrieve. It starts off with a sense of mystery that quickly turns into urgency, with synths and strings evolving as the battle through the station escalates. When the Illusive Man enters the scene in the Archives, the game couples his introduction with his theme from the previous game, an excellent use of leitmotif. But he’s just playing the distraction. The scene and music changes when the Virmire Survivor finds his agent wiping the data that Shepard came here for.

A chase ensues and I absolutely adore how this piece transforms throughout the scene. It’s a technique that several of the game’s tracks use to score their missions and climactic scenes. It starts out feeling incidental, as though it’s just a backdrop to their race, highlighting the rush to stop the mech, but when the cutscene takes over the screen, the music changes into something to backdrop the narrative. In this case, it’s morphed by James’ crash landing, and when the synthetic gravely injures the Virmire Survivor, a set of loud, discordant piano key notes and strings punctuate every hit against the side of the shuttle. As the scene concludes, we’re met with uncertain strings as we fade out the scene with a melancholy piano line.

A Cerberus Agent is probably my favorite track to pick apart. It’s such a fascinating piece, and I love the way that it transforms from incidental music into something more narratively significant. While using my theory of musical representation, it allows for a deeper insight into Shepard’s psyche. To get into some narrative analysis and dissection for a moment, the player isn’t Shepard. We’re just their conscience. This is a distinction that allows the game to give them a unique amount of characterization in comparison to other RPG protagonists. Regardless of the moral decisions and background, there are key aspects of Shepard that remain consistent. In general, they care about their teammates and their teammates care about them, especially by the third game where relationships have been allowed to develop and grow, particularly with the SR1 crew. By Mass Effect 3 they’ve been thrust into a situation for which they have little formal training, acting as a diplomat in order to gather resources, and regardless of their thoughts on the matter, they do what they deem necessary. They go where asked, they get the job done. No matter what choices you make along the way, Shepard is still Shepard. And the music, using the piano, maintains that characterization. Jumping back to “A Cerberus Agent”, the piano can be interpreted as either Shepard’s concern for the Virmire Survivor’s wellbeing or their anger at failing to defeat the mech before it took out a member of their squad. The final piano idea of the piece is very somber and subdued, playing as the Normandy departs from the planet while Reapers descend through the storm. This wasn’t a success, or at least it doesn’t wholly feel like it.

After leaving the Sol system the squad heads to meet the Council, which is where another fantastic moment plays out.

Mass Effect 3 handles the majority of its musical callbacks to the first two games very well, creating a sense of musical cohesion for the series while also instilling nostalgia without beating you over the head with it. The reintroduction of the Citadel has to be my favorite. Where it was missing from the second game, the station’s theme from Mass Effect 1 plays as the Normandy soars through the nebula and over the Wards, a moment of reprieve from the previous mission’s events. In interviews, the composers have discussed how they intended for the Citadel’s theme to feel artificially beautiful. This was used in the first game to set the stage, creating a contrast between the Alliance military and the galaxy’s politicians, but in Mass Effect 3 it works perfectly with the Citadel’s position within the Reaper War. As James says, *insert “it looks calm, peaceful, but it’s not right” clip*. The Citadel is as constant a presence as the Normandy, you’re always returning to the station to turn in sidequests. But like in the first game it acts as a foil to the Normandy, and each highlights the importance of the other. Mass Effect 3 also brings back the original themes for the Presidium and Wards, both of which play gently underneath the diegetic sounds of their respective levels. It creates just enough nostalgia for both to feel familiar and also highlights how much everything has changed since the first game, and sets up what will continue to change.

There’s no easy way to transition here. But I’m going semi-chronologically, so we do have to talk a bit about Shepard’s nightmares and Starkid, because it’s thematically relevant. These sequences use a sustained piano note to create that almost tinnitus feel, as well as a bass chord. Both of which are from Leaving Earth. Shepard’s anxiety and fears are once again made manifest within the music and the game’s sound design, which helps greatly with my Shepard Is A Piano music theory, especially because I’ll really be stretching with some of these analyses. But after wandering through the shadows long enough, and finally approaching Starkid, it transitions into tense synth mixed with eerie vocals that rise in intensity until Shepard finally wakes up.

The next chapter of the game provides the Commander with a clear idea of what they need to do next. A summit is being held with the Council species heads of state and representatives, and they need to recover the turian Primarch from Palaven. Like Earth, the turian homeworld is burning profusely and the casualties are staggering. If Shepard wants support for Earth, they need to take pressure off of Palaven, and they can only do that by bringing the krogan to the fight. *Garrus: looks like your summit just got a lot more interesting*

The piece named for the mission, “Sur’Kesh”, opens with tense strings and synths before a piano comes in with a few short notes, briefly repeating this idea as Shepard attempts to settle things between Wrex and the Salarians.. The rest of the track is purely incidental, backdropping the coming combat, but it allows “A Future For The Krogan” to stand out.

There are a couple sections to this piece, with the first playing out during this scene at the STG base, and it lets us learn a little bit about Urdnot Bakara before we even find out what we’re allowed to call her. She’s watched her clan sisters die and knows that she’s the only one left, and despite the help attempted to be given to her, she’s still essentially a prisoner. Bakara has no reason to trust any of them, but she has no choice either. This track begins with feminine vocals and airy synths, creating a sense of unease and mistrust on Bakara’s behalf. There are multiple vocal lines within this section as well, as though the memories of her sisters are with her. Bakara is burdened with the knowledge that she is their only hope, and she’s being asked to trust a stranger to lead her people towards a new, potentially better, future.

This piece is allowed to develop later, but there are side quests to be done. Both missions for Lieutenant Victus prefer to use diegetic sound and a modest amount of reused battle music that I swear I’ve heard before but I cannot for the life of me find, to backdrop the action and cutscenes. And then we head out to meet with a team of krogan scouts led by my son. *Grunt: “SHEPARD!”*

The mission, Aralakh Company, and its corresponding track follow a similar structure to A Cerberus Agent. Going from incidental to cinematic within the same piece, it begins by creating an atmosphere of eerie synth, before ramping up for combat. It mellows when facing the rachni queen, and then picks back up with brass reminiscent of our Reaper *bwam* and fast strings highlighting the urgency to get out before the Reaper forces overwhelm the team. And then it seems as though we’re not all going to make it out. The piano plays as Shepard almost hesitates to agree with Grunt’s decision to cover their flank and allow them time to make it back up to the surface. It continues as Grunt fights and as Shepard escapes, and though we don’t see them for the rest of this scene, the piano again allows for that insight into how they’re taking the loss. It’s just a supportive idea at first, with layers of brass and strings overtop of it, before developing and briefly taking over the scene when things are getting rough for Grunt. Shepard’s worried about the loss of an ally, but an accompaniment of vocals then claims the focus as Grunt makes his stand, taking a bitter victory over his enemies.

And should he survive the encounter, Grunt stumbles out of the caves to a proper set of triumphant percussion and brass. Our little tank baby’s a real hero now. *Grunt: Anybody got something to eat?”*

With the cure for the genophage finally ready and a plan in motion to deal with the Reaper guarding the Shroud, it’s time to take the fight to the krogan homeworld. The battle for Tuchanka is the first real turning point. It’s just before the battle that Bakara’s theme is allowed to develop. As she intervenes, preventing the males from fighting each other, “A Future For The Krogan’’ returns. It’s been allowed to grow, as Bakara’s confidence and authority have been restored, with powerful female vocal lines backed by percussion and a few strings that intensify throughout the scene, before the vocals fade out and allow the orchestra to carry the rest of the track.

The mission continues with a few setbacks, but Shepard eventually gets to the Shroud, and has to make a decision.

Before landing on Tuchanka, Shepard was offered a deal. Sabotage the cure, and gain salarian support in building the superweapon that supposedly kills Reapers. Without the cure, the krogan will continue to suffer the effects of the manufactured sterility virus that has all but destroyed their species, and Shepard needs ground support if they have any hopes of helping Palaven and Earth in their battles against the Reapers. But that’s all in order to buy themselves more time for the Crucible’s construction, and the salarians are known for their investment into scientific progress. Yet, sabotaging the cure would mean betraying allies and condemning them to death. It’s the first true test of morality in the game, and the music gives its thoughts on the matter.

As Shepard enters the Shroud, the track “Betrayal” starts to play. It starts with thick, bassy brass, the same steps from “A Future For The Krogan,” then joined by a layer of military style percussion, with tense strings as the tower is about to crumble around them. Mordin declares that he needs to go up to the control room at the top of the Shroud in order to access the manual controls. Then there is the split. If Shepard has been withholding their knowledge of the STG sabotage until now, they can ensure that Mordin is unable to counteract it with a bullet in his back. Otherwise, Mordin sacrifices his life in order to ensure the success of the cure’s dispersal.

If Shepard allows Mordin to finish the cure, then the percussion and brass transform as he takes the elevator up to the controls. The music is heroic, confident horns backdropping his redemption after he perpetuated the genophage to begin with. And as the Shroud does its job, breathing life back into a dead planet, Vigil plays throughout the rest of the scene.

If Shepard shoots Mordin, and ensures that the sabotage remains, the percussion fades out and the track continues with somber horns and haunting female vocals that become drowned out by the instruments. And then a piano arrives to take the horns’ place, playing this same musical idea from Bakara’s theme. Musically, Shepard has taken away the krogan’s hope, taken their future from them. Not only that, they’ve killed a friend in the process. And as the scene plays out, the music fades into silence. There is no victorious return of Vigil. Only Shepard’s silent awareness of what they’ve done.

I suppose I need to discuss the narrative significance of Vigil, now. During the initial planning for the video I ruled out talking about Vigil due to the complications it presents, but in this mission it’s managed to present itself in a way that warrants a bit of clarification.

For the uninitiated, Vigil is a piece of music from the first Mass Effect game that has been inappropriately used throughout the Trilogy. It originally plays when speaking to a Prothean VI of the same name, and it’s a beautiful track, made up of atmospheric synths that create this air of wonder and despite the surroundings in which it plays, hope. Within its original context, as Shepard is caught in a race against time to stop Sovereign and Saren from summoning the Reapers, Vigil tells the team exactly what information they need in order to stop them. Which means that narratively, Vigil represents attaining hope and success in the battle against the Reapers.

However, Vigil was also used as the music for Mass Effect 1’s menu screen. The repetition of hearing the music out of its narrative context creates this meta between the player and the game. Because they associate the music with starting up and launching the game, Vigil then became the track for creating a callback to Mass Effect 1. This was quite glaring in Mass Effect 2. The most notable instances of it being used this way are first when meeting with the Virmire Survivor on Horizon and again when reconnecting with Liara during Lair of the Shadow Broker. Mass Effect 3, on the other hand, has made the attempt to bring back the narrative significance that the track originally had.

Using Vigil during this scene indicates that Shepard has succeeded in securing that much needed hope, something in short supply with so many planets already on fire and even shorter supply on Tuchanka itself. Shepard has created confidence now that the Reapers can be defeated, and along the way has saved a species from manipulation and ultimately destruction. Which is why its absence in the sabotage choice is so notable. We’re left instead with Shepard perpetuating that history-long manipulation, using the krogan’s hope against them, and then ultimately the unease of having to live with the decisions that they’ve made. The salarians’ loyalty was gained, their scientists will be sent to work on the Crucible. But was the cost worth it?

We finish the mission with a final conversation with Wrex and Bakara, and then we carry on knowing that not everyone made it back alive, for one reason or another.

The next Priority mission doesn’t have much worth noting. The music is almost entirely incidental, and in order to give impact to the more intense scenes, the game decides to take a page from Mass Effect 2’s book and rely on diegetic noise to create tension. The core track that plays throughout the mission, called “A Cerberus Plot”, doesn’t change much, though it briefly morphs from incidental to slightly more cinematic during the confrontation with Udina and the Virmire Survivor. After the Council has been handled and Udina dealt with, the scene changes to an exchange between The Illusive Man and Kai Leng, the bastard who just caused the death of Shepard’s friend Thane. Their short conversation is underscored by a very brief musical idea of low, airy synth and deep horns reminiscent of the Reapers own motifs. It’s Kai Leng’s leitmotif, and is an indication of the indoctrination that has taken over Cerberus and foreshadowing for the events to come.

Breaking from the main plot, the thing that draws me in to the Mass Effect games is the development of Shepard’s relationships and the sense of camaraderie between the squadmates. For Mass Effect 2, the track that represented those relationships was “Reflections”. In Mass Effect 3, it’s the track “I Was Lost Without You,” written by Sam Hulick. This piece plays during the more intimate moments that Shepard gets to spend with their companions. It’s a lovely piece, with bittersweet piano highlighting how precious these moments are amongst all of the danger and chaos pervading Shepard’s life otherwise. It’s first appearance is during Shepard’s visit to the hospital to see how the Virmire Survivor is doing after their run-in with Cerberus on Mars. The next instance is when Liara comes up to Shepard’s cabin to get input on their entry into her failsafe time capsules. After the attack on the Citadel, the squadmates collectively come to the conclusion that they need to take a moment of respite while they can before they’re thrown back into the fire. “Lost Without You” makes a reprise with a couple of Shepard’s friends and their love interest during their brief visit to the station. It’s not exclusively a love theme, though it is especially notable during the confessions, and provides some levity and peace to let nerves settle before they’re shattered.

*insert Banshee scream*

Cris Velasco and Sascha Dikiciyan are the composers responsible for the majority of the game’s mission themes, including “The Ardat-Yakshi”, the piece that plays throughout the mission in the monastery. It does an amazing job of creating a horror movie-esque atmosphere, using discordant synths and ear piercing frantic strings to make this mission particularly nerve-wracking. It changes slightly as we progress, the strings and horns transforming into something less airy and more akin to the incidental music that we’ve been fighting to throughout most of the game. Samara’s reintroduction to the story perfectly reuses parts of her Mass Effect 2 theme music, her unique instrumentals almost soothing and welcome after being haunted for the last few minutes. It’s brief, the mission’s music returning shortly after she leaves to run ahead, but still excellent.

The mission concludes as Samara’s daughter, Rilla, sacrifices herself so that her family and Shepard’s team can escape from the monastery before more Banshees arrive. As they make it to the upper level, away from fighting, the music changes. A steady piano plays beneath the synth before Samara swears to uphold her oath. Regardless of Shepard’s potential intervention (and why wouldn’t they) the piano plays a repeating note before settling into something more akin to the piano from Leaving Earth. It feels in part as though Shepard is feeling some lingering tension from the reveal of the Banshees, then coupled with the stress of (potentially) losing an ally.

As the scene concludes, the music fades out, settling into the diegetic noise of the snowy winds and the crackling of the building on fire. With the mission arguably a success, we continue.

Shepard is directed towards the quarians next. With the largest fleet in the galaxy, the quarians would make formidable allies in the fight to take back Earth and the other fallen homeworlds. But they’re already locked into an effort to take back their own home planet, Rannoch, which was lost during the war against the Geth. If they’re to join the Reaper war, they need a place for their civilian noncombatants to live while the rest go where they’re needed. Unfortunately, their fight isn’t going so well, with the Reapers broadcasting a command signal to the Geth ships that has significantly bolstered their defenses, but Shepard agrees to help them.

The fight to weaken the geth forces gives us our first direct musical reference to a character, as Hullick recounts. The only character whose theme they actually made a callback to in the third game’s score was Legion. The motifs that played during his introduction on the derelict Reaper in Mass Effect 2 are brought back when Shepard encounters him on the dreadnought, with the horns remaining but the other ideas turned into layers of airy synth. This alteration to the original theme feels to me like an indication of Legion’s faithfulness to the Commander, as things associated with the Reapers typically take on a much thicker and bassy sound within the score. This was very much the case during the original theme, especially within the context of those Mass Effect 2 missions. First with a derelict Reaper as the mission location, and second with the Geth Heretics being the target. In Mass Effect 3, Legion’s theme returns yet again, after Shepard has helped him with wiping out a server of heretic geth. The theme plays leading up to and during the reveal that Legion has transferred programs from the server to the nearby platforms, joining their consensus and becoming allies as well. I’m quite impressed with the way that the theme has transformed from its original ME2 form into something with a deeper narrative significance, and how its application to the third game retroactively gives deeper meaning to the music in the previous instalment.

Priority: Rannoch is a whirlwind of a mission and the music does so much to enhance the emotions. Vigil makes an appropriate appearance at the beginning, as Tali is finally given a chance to properly take in the view of a home that she never thought she’d have a chance to see from the surface. It’s such a restorative moment for her, the music backdropping this with our familiar theme and the message that it represents. Later, the game continues to shine with its reuse of music from the previous games. The music from Mass Effect 2’s fight against the Proto-Reaper blasts through the scene as the scout hidden in the Geth base rises, morphing into the track “Reaper Chase”. It’s perfectly exhilarating, and after managing to kill the bastard on foot, with the help of an orbital strike, we hear the synthy bass of Sovereign’s Theme from the first game as the scout speaks to us. The music then shifts for the climax.

*“Does this unit have a soul?”*

Playing underneath the following conversation, with Legion uploading the Reaper code to allow the geth to fully self-actualize, is a mix of synth textures and horns. The music shifts depending on whichever path is taken. And I… don’t have capture for the background because Mordin’s death was painful enough to force myself through, and I really did need the music from that scene in order to support this script.

But now I have to draw the line, so we’ll start with the Bad Decisions that you can make before finishing with the Good Choice.

Placed in the standard Paragon slot is the decision to upload the geth code, allowing their forces to return to full strength, and dooming the entire quarian race to be killed off above their lost homeworld. Legion sacrifices his own code to allow for the self-actualization of his people. Tali is immediately overcome with the grief of watching her entire species die, their ships crashing to Rannoch’s surface, and she throws herself off a cliff. A short piano motif plays just before she does so, Shepard’s reaction to the loss of the Migrant Fleet, before the music becomes swelling horns and strings. Then the music fades out, and there is only diegetic sound for the rest of the mission.

In the standard Renegade slot is the decision to kill Legion and stop him from allowing the geth to self-actualize. He attacks you, refusing to give up the chance to create a new future for the Geth. Tali stabs him in the back, and with this the music immediately cuts. You shoot Legion three times before he finally deactivates, asking Tali the question that sparked this conflict to begin with. There is only diegetic sound for the rest of the mission.

If you did your sidequests and you have squad member loyalties from the previous game, then the final choice is given to rally the quarians into standing down and ending the war via an allegiance between the two sides. Tense flutes and woodwinds play beneath Shepard’s speech, and as Legion prepares to sacrifice himself for the betterment of his people, the music changes. Vigil returns, and it plays throughout the rest of this mission. Where there is nothing but this startling silence in the other two options, with the music cast away by the losses suffered, Vigil brings with it that same message that we established before. Just like on Tuchanka, it represents the future, this one founded in peace, and provides a comforting resolution to the conflict that we’ve faced throughout the entirety of this arc.

*transition*

With almost everyone alive and the centuries long war over, our success brings with it the narrative throwing us into the deep end. Though we saved Rannoch, Reapers have arrived on Thessia. The asari councilor summons Shepard to the Citadel to inform them of a secret artifact that she believes can aid in tracking down the Catalyst. During their meeting we hear a bit of foreshadowing, with the track “Prothean Beacon” playing under the dialogue. On Thessia, we don’t hear any music until we reach the temple, allowing the sound of the invasion, fighting, and enemies to create a sense of urgency that is all at once subdued by the return of our piece. Airy, chime like synths are layered on top of each other, a subdued sense of mystery now that Shepard and their team are away from the battle. In the track there’s a low piano chord that plays under the synth and atmosphere, Shepard’s connection to the Protheans via the cipher they received three years ago guiding them towards the artifact they came looking for.

And then it all goes to hell when Kai Leng returns, bringing with him that Reaper infused leitmotif. The Illusive Man’s theme appears with the bastard himself as he takes the time to argue at Shepard again. The previous track returns after he leaves, transforming into an incidental piece to underscore the following combat sequence, though it’s all but drowned out by the sound of Leng’s gunship and his bitchass making snarky comments. The plot happens, and the music briefly vanishes as the gunship shoots out the supports. The temple floor begins to crumble beneath them. The leitmotif returns one more time, and as Leng gets away, the music transforms into somber strings. As Shepard is forced to watch the planet become overrun by Reapers, their mission’s failure weighs down on them. The piano that plays isn’t part of the main track. It’s been added on, highlighting and capturing Shepard’s state of mind. Frustration and disappointment captured by just a few chords.

It all goes quiet in the scenes that follow. Thanks to a Traynor Ex Machina, not all is lost just yet. Our favorite comm specialist managed to extrapolate Leng’s potential location. A facility called Sanctuary claiming to be able to save people from the invasion.

Sanctuary’s music is a missing track from the OST, but is mostly incidental with a motif that seems to have been lifted from Aralakh Company to create the air of danger and mystery. Aside from this subtle musical idea, the mission uses primarily diegetic sound, employing the silence to enhance the question of, what the hell happened to everyone they brought here? Poking around at some terminals gives us our answer, thanks to Miranda. Her father is the one in charge of Sanctuary, and he has been using the people as test subjects, converting them into Husks and other Reaper forces. Shepard fights through his failed experiments as they make their way through the facility, until they finally catch up to Miranda during the mission’s final scene. She’s been injured, and as the scene resolves, we hear a reprise of Mass Effect 2’s “Reflections.”

Miranda lives or dies, depending on how much trust you gave to her throughout the game, but this piece plays out for the rest of the mission. Shepard’s connection to their old ally is represented in the music and gives them resolve as they get what they need in order to finish things.

With the final act in sight, I think it’ll be good to do a quick runthrough of the game’s DLC content. A bit of a breather before we head into the inevitable.

For the most part, the DLCs are just… okay, as far as the music goes. But I tend to give them some slack, given the type of content that they are. If I’m not wrong the DLCs are developed apart from the main game, like how Citadel DLC was done by the Montreal studio vs the main studio in Edmonton. If they could reuse themes and get away with not having to write even more music, they would. And for the most part it works.

Going in order of how I personally play through them, From Ashes is up first. I personally found it cute that they took the old Eden Prime music from Mass Effect 1 and used it as the main incidental track for this mission. It helps to give the old track some more identity in the process. I find it strange that they chose to remix Aralakh Company during Javik’s Revival, but it’s… it’s fine. It’s music. And the remix of the Prothean Beacon theme during the first contact protocol on the Normandy does feel more appropriate. Overall, pretty okay.

While it’s my second favorite DLC to play, the music in Omega DLC is unimpressive to me. As far as I can tell, there are only a couple incidental tracks with little in way of evolution, and a single moment of interesting narrative piano if Shepard takes the Renegade action to override the life support systems in order to take down the force field barriers. I played as an Engineer for the capture footage you’re seeing, so I took the Paragon option of overriding everything without making sacrifices to see if anything interesting would play out. It didn’t.

Leviathan DLC is pretty damn underwhelming and the music even more so, in my humble opinion. It carries the atmosphere well, does what incidental music should, but none of it is cinematic enough for me to make an analysis on. The DLC does what it sets out to do, which is create a bit of mystery and encourage the hunt for this mysterious Reaper killer, though I don’t feel a particularly strong attachment to it outside of my Shepard’s love interest getting very worried about them. But that’s neither here nor there so this DLC… it’s fine.

Citadel DLC is literally my favorite thing ever. Of all time. I strongly believe that Mass Effect is at its best when it’s a secret agent/spy thriller, and oh boy the music does NOT disappoint! Citadel DLC’s music does a fantastic job of setting up Shepard’s shore leave adventure, creating this wonderfully playful mood even as Shepard is falling through a fish tank or getting shot at by mercenaries in a rental car lot. The music composed to be diegetic just enhances the experience as well, knowing that even Shepard can hear the soundtrack to their life as they fight for their own identity. The main Mass Effect theme is tucked into so many of the game’s tracks that it’s hardly even worth bringing up, but it’s so much more pronounced with the track “The Anti-Shepard” that plays when our evil clone appears to deliver exposition. It’s an almost fully synth version of the series’ main theme, and feels like the music is a negative version of the original.

The track “The End of an Era” is a beautiful piece written by Cris and Sascha. It’s bouncy and uplifting, and like so much of the music in this DLC, there’s a notable absence of the sounds that we’ve come to associate with the tense melancholy that’s so prevalent throughout the rest of the game. Strings support the cheery synths and a bit of triumphant brass celebrates our victory. It’s the perfect track to play before we take a real break from the fighting, and Shepard gets a chance to finally enjoy their vacation.

I initially decided that I wouldn’t talk about diegetic tracks, because they don’t technically exist on the score, they exist in the world where the characters can hear them, and the score is what can be analyzed. This would allow me to avoid talking about Liara’s piano piece because it’s clearly not about Shepard, but Shepard is a piano in the soundtrack, so… yeah.

But. I am a Garrus Simp, so of course I have to bring up Shepard’s Tango.

Shepard’s Tango is the track that plays during the dance they share with a romanced Vakarian, and it is such a delight with a bouncy electronic piano and a synth filled violin cutting through the generic club music that we usually hear in the bar. It’s a diegetic piece but it feels as though the player has agency over the music’s development, with Shepard’s Paragon and Renegade interrupts altering the flow of the dance and by extent how the music reacts to them. It’s utterly unique within the score and the series, since this kind of interactivity with the music isn’t available in any other track. So, while it doesn’t have any particular narrative importance and I certainly can’t analyze it, it still greatly enhances the scene and manages to contribute to the story in its own way by letting the player be the one to determine how it all pans out.

Perhaps the most lovely of all the pieces that the Citadel DLC score has to offer is “Lost In You”. Written by Sam Hulick, it’s a perfect companion to I Was Lost Without You. It is a beautifully uplifting track that lacks Without You’s melancholy, with a playful piano and supportive strings. It’s so short but it creates this blissfully sweet, tender moment with Shepard’s love interest. It makes me feel so warm just thinking about it.

The final track of the DLC is titled “Farewell and into The Inevitable”, also penned by Hulick. The scene starts with a steady piano reminiscent of the base game’s “Leaving Earth” and “I’m Proud of You”. A bit of the game’s melancholy returns as Shepard is staring wistfully at the Normandy. As they’re joined by their crew, their love interest comes over to give them a few words of encouragement as strings are introduced to the mix. They play together wonderfully, Shepard and their companions all recognizing that shore leave is over, and it’s back to the fight where hopefully they can end things before it’s too late. The piece ends as Shepard smiles at their friends and the ship that they call home, with a rare bit of optimism, as the piece soundly concludes with a final chord.

*“How can we ever be ready for something like this?”*

With the fate of the galaxy resting firmly on Shepard’s shoulders, they’re able to take advantage of the calm before the storm to spend an evening with their romantic partner. I Was Lost Without You makes its last appearance, and if a longer scene has been animated, then the melancholy of the track subsides long enough for Shepard and their love interest to enjoy their evening, with the piano taking a backseat as strings and synth play for the rest of the piece. Otherwise, a fade to black takes us into a nightmare, interrupting Shepard’s rest with that persisting anxiety and the chords from “Leaving Earth”.

The battle for Cronos Station utilizes the same incidental music that played during the attack on the Citadel, and by doing so it gives this track an identity within the narrative. It stops being simply incidental music, and instead it becomes a piece that represents our fight against Cerberus and its corruption. As we go through the station, the Illusive Man’s theme returns while going through the logs as we receive some new information about the circumstances of Shepard’s death, as well as EDI’s creation. This theme returns yet again when we enter his command center and he appears on comm to continue to spout his bullshit. This is the last time we hear this track in the game. No music plays throughout the conversation with the VI, until Kai Leng’s leitmotif returns, the bastard appearing once again to challenge us. *Insert final Leng interaction*

With Cerberus defeated, all that’s left is for us to return to where we began.

The mission cutscene takes over when we enter the Sol system. Hackett steps into the scene accompanied by military percussion and subtle strings, before a horn section joins in. The percussion briefly fades out as vocals take the focus, then returns accompanied by the rest of the orchestra. This piece isn’t hard to examine, with the traditional percussion representing the Alliance’s spearheading the battle as they take it to Earth, and the rest of the orchestra representing the allies that Shepard has made along the way, all of them coming together to create a united force against our enemies.

This carries on as we head to the Sol system, the full force that we’ve mustered joining us along the way with the track, “The Fleets Arrive”. That Alliance brass persists as the Commander spearheads the fight and they cut their way through the enemy to allow them to get to Earth.

As we approach the surface, and even as we make our way to the resistance forces on the ground, there’s a noticeable lack of music. The sound design instead lets the fighting take front and center. The track that finally does play, after several minutes of fighting against Reaper forces, is an expanded version of the solitary motif that until now has played whenever acquiring War Assets. It’s a missing track, not on the OST and not even named as far as I can tell. But it pulls together a feeling of all of that work that we’ve put in throughout the game finally coming together, with a strong resemblance to the other military-like motifs that have been associated with the Alliance up until now. Our ass gets saved by Anderson, and the music cuts out, leaving us in silence until we make it to the resistance base.

The incidental track that follows us as we go to our allies, getting in those final intimate moments, is titled London, though it’s not available on the OST. This track is haunting in its own right. It’s a very subtle piece, full of tense strings that get interrupted by a thick, bassy synth note, reminding us of exactly where we are and what it is that we’re up against. We’re surrounded by destruction, watching life as we know it being threatened with extinction. Failure isn’t an option.

As we prepare for the end, Shepard has one last speech to give to their team. Hulick wrote the tracks that play throughout the rest of the game, and this one is titled, “We Face Our Enemy Together”. Most recognizable for being the third game’s start screen music, this track starts with beautiful, reminiscing strings, and grows with the speech. The triumphant military percussion is added into the mix, and then the brass appears. It’s the persona of Commander Shepard translated into the music. Despite everything that’s happened, it’s optimistic. The hope that having a strong team of allies provides is enough to challenge the darkness being faced.

Shepard fights through the rubble of the city again, with the plan in motion now to make it beyond the Reaper guarding the transportation beam so that a team can get to the Citadel, the Catalyst, and dock the Crucible to end this. During the final boss battle, that triumphant War Assets theme plays again. Everything that we’ve been doing has led us to this turning point. We succeed, and we press forward.

And then shit goes down.

If brought along, our love interest is injured and has to be extracted. And then we get blown up by a Reaper. Shepard is bloodied and beaten and close to death but they still have a job to do, and god fucking dammit, are they going to do it. Against all odds they make it to the beam and to the Citadel, joined by Anderson.

When the Illusive Man appears again, our final confrontation with him, his theme doesn’t play. Instead we’re met with this rumbling synth and notes of thick bass. The Reapers have completely taken him over. He’s been indoctrinated so fully and is now so unrecognizable that not even the score can identify him. Whoever he was died long before we came along and finished the job. And after, Shepard reaches the control panel and is able to open the Citadel’s arms. The Crucible is able to dock, and so they take the chance to sit down and relax.

“I’m Proud of You” is probably the game’s most heartbreaking track. Remember how I mentioned that in some tracks, the strings seem to represent Shepard’s companions? This is one of them, and the strings are so peaceful, yet they’re tinged with this sadness that they just can’t shake. Throughout the series, Anderson has been something of a surrogate father figure to Shepard, trusting them implicitly and having every confidence in their abilities. Their relationship has been deeper than just soldiers on the chain of command. As they sit and talk, it becomes obvious that Anderson isn’t going to make it. The strings fade away as he grows still, and dies. Shepard’s piano takes over the tempo that it established, soft key strokes almost echoing in the quiet. They’re so completely alone now, and they deserve a chance to rest and stop being a hero. But the track doesn’t conclude. The music makes you want it to keep playing, to finish the idea it just established, but instead the final piano note hangs as Shepard is contacted by Hackett for the last time.

Regardless of the conversation with the Starchild, and regardless of Shepard’s choice, the piano starts again and “An End, Once And For All” plays. After everything there isn’t a grand triumphant moment for our hero. There’s just them and the weight of everything that’s happened, and the people that they’ve loved and lost. The track evolves as the scene plays out, the piano developing and then joined by strings. When the rest of the orchestra arrives to accompany, the piano maintains a steady beat to keep the tempo of the track. Shepard’s actions reverberate throughout the galaxy, and no matter what the costs this is ultimately a victory. Our Alliance brass returns once again to celebrate this new future that we’ve enabled, and then it fades out with the Normandy’s jump to FTL.

The ending to the track on the OST is a jumbled, discordant mess with no resolution, which to me feels appropriate both for the story and retrospectively, given the reception to the game itself. Perhaps this isn’t the success that everyone dreamed it would be, but it is a victory. And musically, as that piano takes up a supportive role, it’s clear that even if they were the one responsible for bringing it all together, Shepard isn’t the focus of this success. Because the war was a battle fought on so many fronts among so many peoples, and it’s only because of their alliances that any of this was even possible.

This game is not perfect, but I love it all the same. I’m a fan of these kinds of stories, where the intimate details matter so much more than whatever the resolution might be. It’s why I’ve put over a thousand hours into playing this series, and why I’ve spent dozens more thinking about it. Mass Effect 3’s music shines so much because of how it interacts with the story and our protagonist. It’s in the use of instrumental representation, allowing us a glimpse into who Shepard is beyond the choices that we make for them. It’s the way that the tracks evolve with the narrative beyond traditional game scoring, using the strengths of incidental music to support the cinematic moments. Mass Effect 3 learned a great deal from its predecessors, building on the strong foundation that they set for it. It uses tracks from the previous games so masterfully, giving deeper meanings to songs that once were used almost carelessly but that now contribute so strongly to the story, these characters and their relationships to each other. The composition team did such a fantastic job on this score, and it breaks my heart knowing that even the series’ original composer won’t give the game a chance because he disagrees with how it was produced. I really hope that the team knows that what they managed to achieve was something so special. Musical analysis is a bit of a niche interest, especially when it comes to video games, and maybe most people don’t think anything of the score beyond Leaving Earth was pretty. But as far as I’m concerned, Mass Effect 3 was composed almost perfectly.

Happy N7 day ❤