Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater 3+4’s Soundtrack Remixes Its Legacy

Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater 3+4’s Soundtrack Remixes Its Legacy

Exposure to music, in the right place and the right time, can leave a mark on someone. It wasn’t until the sequel, Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater 2, that the prolific namesake skateboarder and the team at Neversoft understood how many lives the skateboarding game series had started to shape.

“When the first game was a hit, we immediately started working on the second one,” Tony Hawk told Rolling Stone last year. “I don’t think I realized the importance of the soundtrack to the users until after that. I knew how much the music was a part of the game. There was this trove we hadn’t even tapped into.”

In the same interview, former Neversoft developer and current senior director for music affairs at Activision Brandon Young echoed the sentiment. “I was getting letters from parents that would say, ‘Thank you for turning my kids onto the music I was listening to 20 years ago.’ I still have people talking to me about Tony Hawk soundtracks to this day.”

When Activision announced 2020’s Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater 1+2, there were two main concerns surrounding a remake treatment of the pivotal titles. For one, Neversoft was made defunct in 2014, and a new studio, Vicarious Visions, was assigned to carry the torch. Most importantly, people wondered how many songs of the original licensed soundtracks would make the cut. After all, the modern landscape of copyrighted music is a far cry from the late ‘90s.

But 1+2 struck a balance. Only a handful of songs were missing, retaining most of the classics that people were expecting to hear. In addition, the team took the opportunity to add almost 40 new songs, fleshing out the original selection with both old and new picks that fit the vibe with ease. As such, the release was focused on retaining the nostalgia factor, while also introducing modern audiences to new music—as well as a more diverse skater roster.

For me, one of the new songs that stood out was “Afraid of Heights” by Billy Talent. Not only did the song fit the game well, with its euphoric chorus matching the weight of gravity during acid drops. It has also stuck with me since, becoming a permanent addition to one of my playlists. Whenever I listen to it, a part of my brain immediately brings me back to the game, recalling my time nosegrinding rooftops and traversing empty basketball courts. It’s the intended effect—the place where a song is in the right place at the right time.

Similar concerns permeated the lead-up to the release of Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater 3+4. For one, Vicarious Visions, which was under the Activision Blizzard banner, was merged into Blizzard exclusively in January 2021. A year later, the studio dropped its name entirely. Months after the news, Tony Hawk mentioned in a livestream that Vicarious was indeed working on its own take on 3+4 before the merger happened.

“The truth of it is that [Activision] were trying to find somebody to do 3+4 but they just didn’t really trust anyone the way they did Vicarious, so they took other pitches from other studios,” said Hawk. “Like, ‘What would you do with the THPS title?’ And they didn’t like anything they heard, and then that was it.”

In the end, the publisher did decide on a developer, Iron Galaxy Studios. But concerns about the soundtrack were even more pronounced this time around, as marketing snippets honed in on new additions rather than showcasing the balance of 1+2. The result is tough to parse, with only 10 out of the 55 original songs from the joint soundtracks making the final cut.

The premise of giving people new music to discover—a curated playlist, rather than whatever the algorithm decides to feed them that day—is still commendable, especially as video games with licensed soundtracks continue to be a rare occurrence. But the result is missing a crucial aspect: the importance of preserving the original music time capsules as they were intended.

There’s a generational element to music discovery that can and should be contested with new waves and ideas. Newer artists in the nü soundtrack, such as Turnstile, Jeff Rosentock, and Idles, all embody decade-long influences of the bands that shaped the original releases, but aren’t bound by them. Songs like “Damaged Goods” by Gang of Four, “Charlotte” by Kittie, and “2 Minutes to Midnight” by Iron Maiden all make sense within what somebody would consider to be a fitting track list for a Tony Hawk game. But the marriage of old and new allows people to trace back said influences. Existing legacies should be part of the conversation, rather than being outright shut down.

Hawk himself reflected on this when talking about the first Pro Skater game in the Rolling Stone interview. “I’d like to think that it introduced punk as a genre to a new generation, but also keeping the reverence and the roots of it. Punk is a big tent. That’s what the musician John Doe once told me, and I’ll never forget it. My wife and I were kids of the ‘70s, what we consider punk is not what kids now consider punk. When they’re talking about Blink 182, or Offspring, or Green Day, that all came later. We were there for the absolute beginning of it with Iggy Pop and Sex Pistols and The Clash.”

During new interviews around 3+4, Hawk said that, while he wasn’t the only person to decide on the soundtracks, he did suggest bands and picked different songs by artists that were already in the game, to try and continue to foster the sentiment of “keeping it fresh” and “help discovering other music” to people. And while that’s definitely palpable in some of the track selections, this new remake bundle feels like Activision didn’t care to pursue song licenses as much as it did five years ago.

I don’t have a strong nostalgia for these soundtracks, but I do have an everlasting fondness for the tracks in Tony Hawk’s Underground 2, which was my entry to the series. Back in 2020, I wrote about how those songs have stuck with me for over a decade now. Moreover, the importance of the track selection was immediately apparent, even to someone like me who didn’t get to witness how the licensed soundtracks shaped the series over time in the preceding games. Now, I couldn’t imagine a re-release that’s missing even one of the songs there.

Licensed tracks work in tandem with the creative intent of game developers, even if they come from outside sources rather than original work made solely for the game. Recent examples like Hi-Fi Rush and the upcoming Mixtape are curated to evoke specific eras and feelings. They feel like small but significant triumphs considering the tumultuous history of copyrighted music games. Spec Ops: The Line was promptly delisted after losing licenses last year, and while the Toto’s “Africa” moment in Firewatch was small, the experience isn’t the same without it.

As a whole, Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater 3+4 is an uneven remake. The free-roam style campaign of 4 is absent, and its levels have been adapted to fit the two-minute timer. Sure, there’s an option to artificially extend said timer, but the maps are already different, with some being turned into the tournament-type instead. The corporate modern lens that permeates the release doesn’t do it any favors, either. Guest characters bring back the Doom collab of original Pro Skater 3, but in the form of the nü-Doom games, complete with key art to decorate your board and songs from the soundtrack shoed-in, as well as one of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turles… from 2023’s Mutant Mayhem movie, that is. And while real-life advertisements haven’t been a stranger to the Tony Hawk series, nor skateboarding in general, they’re as in-your-face as they can be, strangely being celebrated as a part of the game’s identity in marketing.

Change can be a good thing, especially when its nature is disruptive, meant to make a character roster more diverse or open up doors to new music. Even under the modern age umbrella of corporate licenses and tie-ins, 1+2 embodied that spirit while striking a balance, understanding and honoring the root that led to influences across generations. But 3+4 feels more like a spreadsheet row that had to be highlighted in green. When you approach a remake with little intent to preserve the legacy you’re cashing in from, foreboding not just a semblance of nostalgia but the little remnants of its original spirit, you’re barely left with a tribute. You’re left with almost nothing at all.


Diego Nicolás Argüello is a freelance journalist from Argentina who has learned English thanks to videogames. You can read his work in places like Polygon, the New York Times, The Verge, and more. You can also find him on Bluesky.

 
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