Marcel Winatschek

The Needle Finds the Boss Theme

Chrono Trigger’s score lives in a specific part of my head where the music and the world are the same thing—where Yasunori Mitsuda’s compositions are inseparable from the particular sadness of a future that’s already ended. I’ve heard it on speakers, on headphones, on laptop audio, and it does the same thing every time. But there’s an argument that music like this deserves a different kind of attention. The kind that requires you to handle something physical first.

Black Screen Records, a label out of Cologne, has been making that argument in the most direct possible way: pressing video game soundtracks onto vinyl. Their catalog runs from the recognizable to the pleasantly obscure—Tommy Tallarico’s Earthworm Jim Anthology, the VA-11 Hall-A: Cyberpunk Bartender Action soundtrack, the Oddworld: New ’n’ Tasty score. These aren’t games that generated serious mainstream soundtrack interest when they came out. That specificity is what makes the project interesting.

The vinyl-sounds-better debate is largely beside the point. What records do that streaming doesn’t is force a relationship with the object—sleeve art, the ritual of flipping sides, the commitment to sitting with one thing. Game music, which was written to loop indefinitely and live beneath attention, comes alive differently when you’re required to sit with it deliberately. The VA-11 Hall-A soundtrack in particular—synth-heavy, melancholy, built for a fictional dive bar at the end of the world—seems to require exactly the warmth and grain of an analog medium. The crackle is the right atmosphere.

I’ve had game soundtracks running in the background of my studio for years. The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt, Chrono Trigger, Far Cry 5’s surprisingly strange Americana score. Music written to carry you through a world tends to work well when you’re in the middle of making something of your own. Black Screen Records understands this.