I may have more than my fair share of complaints when it comes to the Nintendo DS Zelda titles, but I would be a pretty lousy critic if I didn’t give credit where credit is due. When it comes to music, Spirit Tracks truly knocks it out of the park. Rich with vibrant strings, spirited woodwinds, and dynamic percussive beats, the music smoothly blends Celtic and East Asian influences to create a soundtrack that captures the lively essence of its predecessor The Wind Waker, while still possessing its own unique spirit. Plus, the incorporation of the DS microphone into the gameplay was a novel (if rather frustrating) way to make playing the game’s core instrument, the Spirit Pipes, a bit more interactive.
But while the entire soundtrack of Spirit Tracks deserves a hearty round of applause, there is one criminally underrated piece that I feel deserves some extra recognition. In under two minutes, this masterfully composed song manages to add a whole new layer of emotional depth to an otherwise standard final battle sequence, cementing its status as one of the greatest power anthems in the entire Zelda series.
After the disgraced Lokomo Byrne nobly sacrifices himself to help Spirit Zelda reunite with her stolen body, Malladus the Demon King makes the split-second decision to usurp the vessel of his hapless lackey Chancellor Cole, much to the horror of the latter. The resulting abomination is a grotesque, volatile beast that Malladus himself acknowledges is too unstable to control for very long. As Zelda summons the divine power of her bloodline, Link must prevent Malladus from harming her by deflecting the flaming rocks he hurls in their direction. Soon Zelda completes the ritual, reasoning that if they combine her power with that of the Spirit Pipes, they will expose Malladus’s weak point. Thus commences the most grueling flute session in the entire game, after which we get to enjoy the captivating Sacred Duet.
I think what I find so appealing about this song is the eclectic range of instruments at play. We appropriately begin with just Zelda’s vocals and Link’s pipes to carry the tune, but then the five Lokomo Sages gradually join in to enrich the melody: Gage on the cello; Steem on the biwa; Carben on the flute; Embrose on the timpani; and Rael on the shawm. As if that wasn’t a strange enough selection already, early development sketches indicate that a sixth sage was in the works, and she was apparently meant to play an instrument used in Indonesian Gamelan music. I have no idea whether or not this addition would have completely derailed the final product (pun intended), but in the song we ended up with, these seemingly incompatible instruments work surprisingly well together. Their voices combine to produce a majestic, uplifting hymn that strengthens the fortitude of our heroes and prepares them to exorcise the evil once and for all.
But perhaps the most important aspect of the Sacred Duet is its emotional impact. In most other Zelda games, the final battle is a grim, lonely endeavor for our hero Link. Though he may be accompanied by a companion and/or Princess Zelda, it usually comes down to a one-on-one struggle between Link and his mortal enemy. Even in Ocarina of Time, where it is made clear that the six Sages have been closely monitoring the confrontation with Ganon, their presence can’t really be felt until the very end. So the fact that the Lokomos directly contribute to the Sacred Duet demonstrates just how integral they are to the outcome of the final battle. Buoyed by the support of the Sages he has encountered on his journey, Link strides into the battle arena with a feeling of triumph, confident that he and Zelda will succeed in purifying the land and abolishing the nightmare that plagues Hyrule once and for all.
