Aside from the 56 track OST (3 discs), you’ll also get 20 pages of liner notes, a behind the scenes DVD detailing the creative process of the game’s score, and a set of character cards. It’s quite the package.

The soundtrack itself is a diverse mix of composers and performers spanning five different countries. It includes music written by Hiroki Kikuta (Secret of Mana), Andrew Aversa (Monkey Island 2: Special Edition), Cris Velasco (God of War trilogy), Inon Zur (Dragon Age series), and more with performances by the Eminence Symphony Orchestra and Choir.

You can find a handful of sample clips on EminenceOnline.com as well as a photo gallery showcasing that sweet, sweet packaging. I highly recommend checking out “Blood Thirst Concerto” (embedded below).

Buy the Soundtrack: EminenceOnline.com

In talking with a lot of gamers, I’ve discovered that there’s actually somewhat of a distaste towards fighting games. Many people feel that they amount to simply smashing buttons, and if there is a strategy to it, it’s simply “Use X move at Y moment.”

Either that, or they view them as so impenetrable it isn’t even worth the effort, that studying frame data and practicing moves for hours in Training mode is devoid of fun. So I thought I’d write about my journey with the fighting game, my transformation from hater to lover, and hopefully get people to give them a second thought.

I, like everyone my age, started with Street Fighter II. I had friends who owned the game, saw it in arcades, and it was pretty much everywhere. I was almost immediately turned off. I was bad at it, and I don’t like things I’m bad at. I figured out how to do a Hadouken and that was the extent of my learning curve. I didn’t play another 2D fighter for years. Not much of a start, huh?

Down the road, I discovered Tekken 3. I stuck more to single player games before that, but I discovered I enjoyed unlocking the bits of story at the end of each character’s Arcade mode. I ended up spending many hours with the game. It was the story that drew me in, made me give the game a shot, and I discovered how complex the game was. This complexity was tempered by my naivete though, and it quickly devolved into me using the same power move again and again. If it won, why not use it? And so a spammer was born.

This mentality continued on for years. Soul Calibur, Guilty Gear, Marvel Vs Capcom. I always approached them with a similar tack. Find the most powerful move, and use it as often as possible. Against a CPU, this is a surprisingly powerful tactic. And because of this, I viewed fighting games as a curiosity at best, not worth the time to put into them. What was the fun of beating the computer over and over with a single move?

It wasn’t until I sat down with a couple of guys and Street Fighter 3 that I finally understood what was wrong with this philosophy of gaming I had cultivated. They quickly showed me the problem with spamming. After the third or fourth time (If that) I hit them with a move, they adapted. They punished. They showed me that spamming would not work, because they now knew what was coming. I was telegraphing everything. Even the most basic strategy was lost on me, because I realized I’d never been learning. I was just clearing everything out of my way with a sledgehammer. When the hammer was taken away, I had no knowledge of finesse or strategy.

I quickly resolved to be as good as they were, to know what to do in every situation. I didn’t anticipate quite how difficult that would be.

I began to try out different moves. Things I thought were useless. Inputs I initially thought were too hard. I discovered things like Anti Airs, combos, and the advantages of rushdowns vs. turtling. I learned in some games, there is a use for the Super-Bar beyond doing a big flashy move. That you don’t need to finish the fight with your super move. That damage is damage, whether it came from a special move or a light punch.

I began to visit Shoryuken.com (which if you are interested in fighting games, is an amazingly useful resource. Also check out Dustloop.com for Guilty Gear!) and listen to the experts talk. And even though I thought I was attaining competency, I realized that I had dipped my feet into waters that were deeper than my comprehension. It was at this point that I became disillusioned with fighting games.

I had plateaued. I had understood the basics, and thought that’s all there was to it. But now I began to find out about things like jump canceling, instant air inputs, dash canceling, and Roman Cancels. Words that didn’t mean anything to me before, but would soon become part of my everyday lexicon.

When I realized the kind of precision required to play 2D fighting games, the kind of skill in execution, I wanted to give up on the hobby immediately. I wanted to throw my hands up and say the games were for a blessed sort, and my fingers could never be up to snuff. But the one, almost universal response was to “just practice”. This kind of thing can be absolutely infuriating to any neophyte, and I would have none of it. But the games kept calling me back, especially as I was able to convert some of my friends. Eventually, I learned there’s a certain joy to pulling off these incredibly complex moves.

What it really does come down to is practice, because it’s all about muscle memory. At the high level of play of a tournament, your brain shuts down. Adrenaline floods your body, you’re surrounded by screams, and everything you thought you knew goes right out the window. I’ve talked to many tournament players, and this is a pretty common occurrence, especially when you’re new.

That’s where muscle memory comes in. You remember that jump in combo you practiced 1000 times this week? Well, you may not, but your fingers do. Once you start moving, your hands do the work. These games are about forcing these combos and inputs so deeply into your brain that they are instinctual.

Dave “ShaolinJesus” Corvin once saw me playing Last Blade 2 on the dreamcast, sitting in Training mode, practicing moves, seeing what linked into what. He said, almost incredulously, “Are you studying that game?”

To which I replied with a simple smile, “Yes.”

I don’t think he really saw why someone would want to do that and a year or two ago, I would have agreed. It seems like work, right? But it’s no different from a basketball drill. It’s about polishing yourself, getting all the kinks out, and forcing yourself to learn. Learn that move 10000 times, so when you need to pull it out, your fingers won’t fail you.

I am still learning to this day. I’m trying to do all the trials on Street Fighter IV, and it’s maddening. By the end of the day, my thumb is raw (I don’t have a stick, unfortunately), my brain is frazzled, and I am beyond frustrated. But I am better, and everyday I learn more. That’s the most important thing about these games to keep in mind. There is a steady progression. If you are willing to practice, I don’t care who you are, you can get good. And when you are playing with your friends, and you pull out that c.mp xx qcf.lp FADC c.HP into Ultra, there is an amazing feeling of pride.

I just don’t think anyone gives these games the chance. They think like I once did. It’s just about hitting the buttons right and using the most powerful moves. And I would like to change people’s minds about it. Because once you start swimming in these waters, you’re not going to want to get out.

The Sega Dreamcast was the greatest system that never really had a chance. When most systems die after a year and a half, it is because they are terrible systems with horrendous game libraries (see 32x, Atari Jaguar). The Dreamcast had arguably the greatest first 18 months of any console in history. The unfortunate thing is those 18 months were all we got.

Why did the Dreamcast die?

The Dreamcast faced three nearly insurmountable obstacles, any one of which would have been enough to derail most systems. The first obstacle was EA. Still bitter about the failure of the Sega Saturn and unsure of the Dreamcast’s potential, EA, the largest publisher at the time, decided not to release games for the Dreamcast.

This meant that some of the biggest franchises, such as Madden and Live, were not going to appear on the Dreamcast. Sega and 2K Sports did an awesome job of filling this gap with amazing sport games, but for many people Madden is football. No Madden meant lots and lots of people sticking with their PS1 and waiting on PS2.

The second obstacle was the hype for the PS2. When the Dreamcast was released on 9/9/99 most people were playing Playstations. Sony was the undisputed leader with no one else even close. For a generation of gamers, Playstation meant video games. Sony was in such control that everyone was anticipating the launch of the PS2. In fact, the hype generated by Sony for the PS2 was enough to convince people that the next generation did not start until Sony released the PS2. This perception caused a lot of people to consider the Dreamcast as competition for the PS1 instead of the PS2. Sony convinced people that the Dreamcast was a toy, and the PS2 was the future.

People always say that everything always comes down to the games, but if you were to compare the first year of Playstation 2 games versus the games that were out on the Dreamcast, the PS2 library doesn’t even come close. The PS2 launch really only had 3 games: Madden 2001, Timesplitters, and SSX. Compare that to: Soul Calibur, Power Stone, NFL 2K, NBA 2K, Skies of Arcadia, and dozens of others. Even with a superior library, the Dreamcast was still demolished by the perception that Sony had created.

The final obstacle was Sega itself. After much success with the Sega Genesis, Sega managed to dilute their brand name by releasing way too many systems. At one point you could go to the store and purchase: a Nomad, a 32X, a Sega CD, a Genesis, a Game Gear, and a Sega Saturn. Having so many systems confused retailers and consumers. By the time Sega got it right with the Dreamcast it was too late. People no longer trusted Sega consoles. They had been burned too many times before. The Dreamcast could have dispensed Nacho cheese and free Beer and people would have wondered if they would need 7 expansions and attachments to play all the games for it.

Any one of these obstacles would have been enough to derail a system. The poor Dreamcast faced all three. Is it any wonder the Dreamcast died?