The Story Told Through Mass Effect's Clubs - Part 3
Well, here we are, team. Part 3 of this epic journey through one of sci-fi’s greatest universes—the Mass Effect universe. You might be looking at this thinking, “Good God almighty, there are another 2 of these!?” If so, you’re in luck, because there are another 2 of these! Please follow the links below to check out parts 1 and 2 of this sonic journey through Mass Effect’s clubs.
The Story Told Through Mass Effect's Clubs - Part 1
The Story Told Through Mass Effect's Clubs - Part 2
For part 3, we are reaching the conclusion of the original trilogy, and the universe is not in the best shape (there will be no follow-up Mass Effect: Andromeda version of this article because I just cannot bring myself to force myself through that game). In fact, pretty much every club we have grown to know and love are all but destroyed thanks to a little phenomenon called “the end of existence as we know it.” However, do not get downhearted, there are a couple of clubs still up and running. After all, what better excuse to get your freak on then the end of days?
The Citadel: Purgatory
Now that most of the universe is under siege, one of the last remaining bastions of civilization exists in the centre of council space, the epic space port known as The Citadel. We have visited The Citadel many times by this point of the game and witnessed many of its clubs. In Mass Effect 1, we flexed our Quasar skills in Flux and shook our booties in Chora’s Den…before they were decommissioned for REASONS. Then, in Mass Effect 2, we took some time to chill in the Dark Star Lounge, but that’s now not accessible to us because…well I don’t really know. Maybe they were renovating before the end of the universe bore down on us all? Either way, the one remaining club we have now is the aptly named Purgatory. Thankfully, it is quite the club, with equally outstanding music.
Even before we enter the dance floor, the pulsating bass and beat can be felt straight from the elevator. It makes the whole space massively enticing and the perfect location to blow off steam. The track playing is a piece called "Staggered Injection" by Ekstrak. This is a very odd name, but somehow does portray some of the themes flowing through the track itself.
The key, driving force behind the whole track is the kit. Now, unlike somewhere like Afterlife where the drum beat flew at us with a drum & bass franticness that consumed every particle of sound, this beat is much more focused and deliberate. The kick drum plays a straight 4 to the floor, giving the track real forward momentum, almost like a military march. The synthetic bass is phat and heavily distorted, swallowing up all the aural space it can. However, once again, this serves a different purpose than bass lines from other clubs. It is no drone, padding underneath the rest of the instruments; it actually slots into the gaps left by a more forgiving drumline. What this allows is the track to have all the kinetic energy of a hard-beat track, but without the relentless aggression that comes from the attack of a snare. The bass slips into those little gaps between the 4 to the floor to give the track that off-beat presence that catapulted genres like rocksteady and ska to the dancefloors back in the day.
The pad is instead provided by MIDI-keys that sit at a much higher frequency. This gives the pads a suitable amount of cut through the rest of the noise, without absolutely swamping the overall mix. Afterall, it’s the throbbing bass line we care most about. The rest of the frequencies are filled up with small ad-libs and harmonic touches that help add that little twist of complexity to the overall composition, giving listeners who are really listening something to crack a wry smile about.
Overall, Purgatory’s music is the most accomplished of the Mass Effect club scene. It takes everything learnt from the previous games and dials it up a notch. What this results in is the perfect club track, a piece of music that can absolutely consume every fibre of your being if you allow it, but only if you allow it. If you instead wanted to catch up with friends or drink solemnly in the corner, the music will sit back and give you the reflective space you need.
The Citadel: Silver Coast Casino
Now, with the recent release of Mass Effect: Legendary Edition, a lot of players will have access to one of the best DLC’s Mass Effect offers: The Citadel. This DLC opens up a whole new part of town called Silversun Strip, and in this area is a casino called Silver Coast Casino. The upstairs area of the casino is a small club area that actually plays the song we heard way back when we visited Chora’s Den back in Mass Effect 1; however, that’s not particularly interesting. What is interesting is the music that plays in the casino itself. Because it’s bananas.
The track starts off as pure cocktail jazz. We’re talking about a typical swing beat played in 3/4. The chord comping on the keys is very evocative of those California jazz pioneers like Dave Brubeck’s Take 5, with the double bass gracefully marking the chords themselves. It’s all very sophisticated and easy; however, even here there are moments that start to twist expectations. The flute and tenor sax lines have an air of freeness to them not typically found in this particular flavour of jazz. There are moments where the two instruments beautifully counterpoint each other over this very elegant melody, but soon, they break down and start doing very separate jobs. The tenor line starts running up and down the horn whilst the flute trills this slightly dissonant note, all whilst the backing section starts hovering around one or two very specific chords, evocative of the early days of model jazz. Then, suddenly, this typical cocktail piece that is starting to show a bit of bite completely goes off the rails in the most splendid way.
The track breaks down into a beat that after repeated listenings, I still can’t pick up. It’s like a 7/4 over a 2/4 at times, and it’s completely insane and fascinating. The swing kit is replaced by this incredibly compact drum pattern, the bass starts going off on a walk all of a sudden, and the lead instruments have disappeared all together. Instead, this almost dissonant synth melody kicks in, giving the whole section a jarring artificiality. It has airs of free jazz in its pure ambience, whilst keeping itself very routed in a key hamonic place, representing the only ties this section has with its much more straight laced predecessor. Then, out of thin air, the cocktail jazz is back. No clever progression or transition, just a hard switch back into the 3/4 swing. It’s incredibly bizarre and completely mesmerizing, and I can’t fathom what casino would actually play a track so complex in its rhythmic and harmonic structures.
A space casino, I guess.