The bittersweet story of Portal 2 is shaped as much by its music as every character and line of dialogue.
With few exceptions, the game’s music has no lyrics. It’s purposefully designed to be sterile and inorganic as the game’s environment.
Listened to on its own, the music can sound like awful buzzing. In game, it becomes so seamless and temperate that one might fail to notice it.
Launched on a spring-loaded plate, I fly over the muddy-brown water below. Air rushes past. A rough beat grows in intensity as my graceful arc reaches its peak.
The ground rapidly approaches; music builds in urgency. I fire my portal gun twice — creating two connected wormholes. I fall through the floor and out of the wall high above me.
Launched from the wall with great momentum: I fly across the cavernous room, and cheerful notes play momentary. I finally stop on a once-distant platform.
Test chamber completed. The only way forward: an elevator that leads farther into the depths of the vast decaying complex.
As you play through each chamber in Portal 2, every action plays notes that combine into a unique song.
Composer Mike Morasky has also composed more conventional music heard at key moments in the game.
It’s a synthetic beat with many faces: sharp and abrasive as 15 acres of broken glass; a quiet whisper of the past and what is yet to come; synthetic caffeine pushing you forward; the songs of forgotten machines.
Jonathan Coulton and rock band The National also contributed to the soundtrack.
Joy. Sadness. Love. Hate.
The unforgettable soundtrack is a vital ingredient in the recipe that makes this one of the highest-rated video games of all time.
