WARNING: I’ll be delving into some minor Silent Hill spoilers in this post. If you wish to remain unspoiled, cover your eyes when I start using my telepathy to warn you.
I’ve been on a lil bit of a psychological horror excursion lately. With the dreariness of winter having fully engulfed the midwestern US, the good vibes of summer have long since passed, leaving plenty of room for my conscience to drift toward good ol’ snowy melancholy. It’s the perfect time to cozy up in some blankets and let my mind get lost in the fog… Yeah I know, real clever.
Silent Hill is a franchise I only started delving into late last year (and I’m currently writing a giant piece on how much a certain game in the series already means to me), and my god do its games pack quite the chilling, atmospheric punch. But beneath its murky veil of horror plots, traumatic sights, and heart-wrenching psychoanalyses, its music stands out as some of the most eclectic, thought-provoking, and beautiful art I’ve ever listened to. Akira Yamaoka—the series’ composer since its inception—paints such vivid soundscapes that have quickly ascended my list of favorites, and I really want to talk about some of them while the feelings are fresh. Get ready to listen to some bangers.
The Reverse Will – Silent Hill 2
This is a track I haven’t actually gotten the chance to hear in-game yet as I’ve yet to obtain the “Maria” ending, but since I have a tendency to comb soundtracks like a madman regardless of spoilers, I’ve looped this one quite a bit—like, a hundred times a bit. It’s an ending theme unlike any of its more grungy, rock-like counterparts; a warped cacophony of strange, reverse-sounding synth melodies, layered on top of a progressive drum beat with a kick that cuts through the mix like a knife. There’s even a bit of record scratching sprinkled between measures that gives it even more of a trip-hop vibe—a genre that’s practically foundational to the series’ compositional structure. It’s oddly… psychedelic, and not in a trippy, “you’re totally high as hell” way. It’s a track that exemplifies how James—the protagonist—has genuinely lost his mind. He can no longer distinguish between reality and the alluring temptations of Silent Hill itself, dooming his conscience into believing in a ritualistic delusion; once James convinces himself that Maria is Mary—his long-deceased wife—there is no saving him, and that’s what makes this track truly harrowing. It’s the soundtrack of a man who has given in to his guilt and succumbed to temptation rather than cope with his loss, and the further it drones onward, the more you start to realize that you really, really made the wrong choices.
But even without any of that gut-wrenching context, this track rules. Even in a soundtrack that constantly refines its signature, poignant, industrial-atmospheric mix, this track still manages to stand out. It’s hypnotic in its composition, its sound perfectly reflecting an endless loop of guilt laced with the innocence of Laura’s backwards chanting. The beat is steady and catchy, marching forward with no intention other than blind delusion—it’s a harrowing thought to know that all the reflection you did throughout the game was for naught, and the wailing of those trill, violin-like pads represents a snuffed cry for help that will never be heard. If there’s any credits song that perfectly represents Silent Hill 2’s insanity, then this might be the one best suited to encapsulate the tale.
Claw Finger – Silent Hill
The original Silent Hill looks and plays dated in many ways, but its soundtrack certainly holds up. This track plays relatively early on in the Balkan Church, where Dahlia Gillespie spouts some cryptic comments to Harry Mason about how the strange events occurring around them, including his arrival, were “foretold by geomancy” or something. I remember when I first read that line and was like, “This lady’s nuts, and this is totally all her fault, isn’t it?” Well, the first time the soft ringing of Claw Finger’s church bells graces your ears, you start to get a sense that religious fervor might be the main culprit behind Silent Hill’s supernatural state.
The track introduces itself calmly, soft chimes luring you in like a lullaby. Its melody is rhythmic, yet unsettling—it’s evident the once-holy place you stand in has been corrupted by something far more sinister than you can comprehend. It perfectly conveys the sense of unease as you’re left with as Dahlia alludes to Cheryl’s whereabouts with terms Harry can’t possibly hope to understand, as well as juxtaposing a peaceful sound with the confusion of meeting a creepy old woman who obviously knows more than she’s willing to let on. Not to mention how little sense the song’s title makes; in fact, most of the track names on Silent Hill’s OST don’t really correlate well with the contexts they’re placed in. It’s certainly an intentional choice, but was it one made out of pure randomness or purposeful deception? Either way, I love the fact that I didn’t understand anything when I heard this track for the first time, and it’s certainly catchy enough to have stuck in my mind as an anthem of uneasy relaxation. Sometimes I’ll listen to it when I’m writing a spooky scene…
You’re Not Here – Silent Hill 3
Now this, this is an opener.
As much as I adore Silent Hill 2’s introspective horror, Silent Hill 3’s exploration of the horrors of womanhood and the reclamation of one’s identity from abuse are equally if not more compelling on a human level. Heather Mason is an awesome and relatable protagonist, and from its first dissonant chord, You’re Not Here perfectly exemplifies the mental struggles of a girl who simply wants to be free.
This song is straight out of the mid-2000s alt rock scene, and it’s all the better because of it. Its lyrics are striking, directly alluding to the major losses Heather suffers throughout her life; lines like “If you hadn’t met me, I’d be fine on my own, baby | Never felt so lonely, then you came along” imply that if Harry—her adoptive father and the original Silent Hill’s protagonist—hadn’t decided to raise her, her previous incarnation’s suffering may have still given her the strength to eternally struggle, yet his compassion and kindness enabled her to feel the pain of his loss. “You gladly gave me everything you had and more” was Harry’s love. “When you made me feel joy, it made you smile” was his passion as a father.
“But now, I feel your stress”.
Her past has returned to haunt her, following her across time and space to reclaim her as its own; the horrors of Silent Hill and its maniacal cult have relentlessly tracked her down and taken the person who loved and shielded her from them, but she refuses to succumb. Heather takes it upon herself to carry on Harry’s mission and prove to both herself and her late father that she’s capable of being her own woman, free of the ties that bind her to an unfair, horrific past.
… That was a lot, wasn’t it? I find this song much more moving through an analytical lens, but it’s such a strikingly melancholic piece that opens the game up perfectly. It’s dirty, a bit grungy, and full of the kind of energy that makes you want to rebel with caution and fire in your heart.
I feel like I could pick out a bazillion more songs to rave over, but I think I’ll stop here for now. Three is enough for one blog post! Maybe I’ll make this a kind of sub-series where I pick a few songs to talk about every week? That sounds fun… until I get too carried away and write 10,000 words, or so burnt out I can’t even write a single letter. MO-TI-VA-TION!
See ya later!
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