One thing you should know about me is that no matter how much praise and enthusiasm I may heap upon a work of art, I will try to avoid labeling it as a “masterpiece” without good cause. To me, a true masterpiece is an incredibly rare treasure that defies artistic analysis, transcending our restrictive standards of beauty and resonating with powerful messages that we can’t begin to articulate. They cut right through our walls of cynicism and ego to strike the core of our humanity, and no matter how many times we observe these pieces, they always awaken in us that sense of pure wonder and deep fulfillment. The Little Prince is a masterpiece. Spirited Away is a masterpiece. And, if I may be so bold, Majora’s Mask is most definitely a masterpiece.
I could probably write an entire book centered around why I think this game is the Zelda series’ greatest achievement, and I’ve already spoken about how the amazing cast of characters sets it apart from the other 3D Zelda titles. But one vital element that I never give Majora’s Mask enough credit for is its wordless storytelling. While most of the characters have excellent dialogue that beautifully captures their complex personalities, the scenes that have always stuck with me over the last 20 years are the ones that lack dialogue. The heavy silence that descends upon Ikana Canyon when Captain Keeta imparts his final request is both chilling and heartbreaking, as the profound emptiness and lingering regrets that plague this weary general are carried away on the whistling wind. When time runs out and the Moon crashes into Termina, the raw horror of the moment is perfectly captured in the apocalyptic imagery and the brutal symphony of destruction playing in our ears, without a single word uttered until the very end. However, even these incredible moments can’t quite hold a candle to the scenes with Darmani and Mikau, not only because the transition to death is handled with such gentleness and grace, but also because the scenes are accompanied by one of the most soothing melodies I’ve ever heard: “The Song of Healing.”
In a bit of an ironic twist, once we step outside the game and into the online fan community, we discover that the song responsible for the most brilliant displays of wordless storytelling in the Zelda series is one of the few with well-established fan lyrics. In January 2005, a writer on DeviantArt named Elliot Grey uploaded a lovely poem that quickly gained attention when multiple individuals across YouTube began using it for vocal covers (Zelda Universe included). Now, 16 years later, most people in the fandom regard these as the “official” lyrics for “The Song of Healing,” despite them not being canon.
But while I agree that Grey’s poem is a wonderfully evocative tribute that embodies the spirit of the original composition, I think that its overwhelming popularity is detrimental to other aspiring writers who have penned their own lyrics for the song. After all, when one star shines brightly in the night sky, it can be difficult to see all the other beautiful stars that sparkle around it. So for this final installment of my Lyrical Spotlight series, I would like to pay homage to a lesser-known but equally fantastic set of lyrics written by the phenomenal artist known as RebeccaETripp.
If you’re a fan of video game music and the various remixes that indie artists post online, then chances are very good that you have stumbled across Rebecca’s YouTube channel at some point or another. But one time is really all it takes, as you find yourself emerging from a dreamlike trance an hour after starting up her playlist of wonderfully serene orchestral works, which she describes as a mix of “video game, classical, new age, drone, world (especially Celtic) and synth/electronica genres”. She employs an eclectic range of instruments and draws influence from multiple cultures across the world to compose richly atmospheric pieces that intrigue and delight; for example, her remix of the Shadow Temple theme is themed around death as viewed through the lens of Buddhism, so she incorporates Tibetan cymbals, bells, woodwinds and throat singing to emulate a cavernous shrine where primal terror and spiritual awakening go hand-in-hand.
Here in Rebecca’s “Song of Healing” cover, however, she has chosen to scale back the instrumentation considerably and opt for a more ambient, meditative backing track unlike anything we’ve ever heard for this song before; as a result, her amazing lyrics are allowed to take center-stage, brought to life by her pure, gentle singing voice. She paints an otherworldly portrait of an ethereal paradise, where a mysterious entity is beckoning to a lost soul known only as the Wanderer. This entity, who based on her speech and mannerisms seems to be an ancient guardian spirit of sorts, recognizes that this soul has endured terrible suffering and encourages them to meditate; by doing so, they can come to accept their trauma before casting it off like an old shell, allowing them to grow and flourish.
What I like most about these lyrics is that, while they closely align with the theme of healing as it is presented in Majora’s Mask, they remain accessible to those who aren’t otherwise familiar with the game. Rebecca mentions that she wrote this in part for a friend who was dealing with incredibly stressful health problems at the time, and I think they do their job beautifully both inside and outside the boundaries of the Zelda universe. Paradoxically, this song and its numerous remixes across the Internet have always provoked an intense emotional reaction, making me weep with grief and contemplate the tragic events that unfold in Majora’s Mask. But thanks to this vastly underrated artist, for the first time, “The Song of Healing” has left me with a lingering sense of inner peace.
If you found Rebecca’s rendition of this iconic melody appealing, then I encourage you to pop on some high-quality headphones, kick back with a nice hot beverage, and lose yourself in her massive playlist of Zelda remixes. And I sincerely hope you enjoyed this mini-series of mine; I’m passionate about all aspects of music, but there’s a special place in my heart for the poems that are so elegantly woven into the fabric of the tunes we know and love. Whether you feel the same way or not, please feel free to share your thoughts in the comments below, and thank you for joining me on this little expedition. Until next time!
This is the final article in a Medli’s Melodies mini-series that pays tribute to the clever, funny, thought-provoking, and even inspiring lyrics that fans have written for the Zelda songs we know and love. If you would like to catch up on previous Lyrical Spotlight articles, please check out the list below.
- Deep in the brume of juniper and fern
- The tragedy of man, the conqueror worm
- The king of thieves, Sakon
