Organic Intelligence XXVI: Dungeon Synth

In this month’s antidote to the algorithm, Joel McIver slaps on the corpsepaint and buys a 50p keyboard to give us a run-down of the non-more troglodytal world of dungeon synth

You know when you put on some horrendously violent metal album, and it starts with a bit of creepy ambient music before the 'proper' songs begin? If you record a whole album of those spooky intros, without any guitars or other difficult-to-master instruments, you'll have made a dungeon synth album. 

It's a great title for a genre of music, for several reasons. First, you could make the music with a real-life keyboard synthesiser if you wanted to, but you actually only need a computer and a bog-standard soft-synth program to compose and play the stuff, so that’s what most people do. Next, the vibe is definitely dungeon-y, all unnerving textures, whispers and wails: the point is to be understated rather than epic, so don't expect Middle-Earth-sized choirs. Instead, imagine yourself running around an 8-bit computer game in 1986, poking goblins with a big old sword and battling zombies in graveyards. Who doesn't love all that comforting adolescent nonsense?  

It's interesting to note that the roots of this music lie in Norwegian black metal, itself a heavily fantasy-based genre of music. The artist names and album sleeve art from both styles of music are similar, populated by crumbling castle battlements, throne rooms, evocative forest landscapes and so on and so forth. There aren't really many prominent dungeon synth artists, partly because the music isn't really suited for live performance, and partly because there's zero money in it. The genre probably won't grow much bigger, and in fact it might even vanish, but so what? Once on YouTube, always on YouTube. Here's five great examples for you to enjoy on your commute.