Of all the strange and wonderful dimensions that exist within the world of Control, perhaps the most compelling is the one that bridges developer and player: the score. More than just a collection of ambient tracks or combat riffs, the music and sound design of Control Ultimate Edition form the very architecture of the Oldest House, a sonic blueprint that guides, unsettles, and ultimately elevates this supernatural adventure into a masterpiece of atmospheric storytelling. It is an auditory experience that is not merely heard but felt, a fundamental force as tangible and powerful as the Service Weapon itself.
From the moment Jesse Faden steps into the brutalist, shifting labyrinth of the Federal Bureau of Control, the soundscape establishes itself as a primary character. Composed by the renowned band Poets of the Fall under their in-game alias, the Old Gods of Asgard, and supplemented with haunting ambient pieces by Petri Alanko, the score is a masterclass in tonal dissonance. It seamlessly blends eerie, ethereal melodies with pulsing, industrial rhythms, mirroring the game’s core conflict: the cold, logical rigidity of a government agency violently colliding with the chaotic, unknowable power of the paranormal.
The score’s genius lies in its dynamic and reactive nature. It is not a linear soundtrack but a living, breathing entity. During exploration, the music often recedes into near-silence, replaced by the oppressive, almost sacred quiet of the Oldest House. The sound design takes over: the distant hum of fluorescent lights, the echo of Jesse’s footsteps on cold concrete, the unsettling, distorted whispers of the Hiss that seem to emanate from the very walls. These are not random effects; they are meticulously placed auditory clues. A faint whisper might hint at a hidden path; a change in the ambient hum could signal an upcoming threat. This forces the player into a state of hyper-vigilance, listening as intently as they are looking, making them an active participant in the unraveling mystery. The silence itself becomes a tool of tension, a canvas upon which the slightest sound becomes a terrifying brushstroke.
Then, the Hiss入侵 (invasion) begins. The shift is jarring, brilliant, and terrifying. The serene, if unsettling, quiet is shattered by the distorted, rhythmic chant of the Hiss—a cacophony of overlapping voices that sounds like a corrupted mantra. This auditory signature is one of the most effective in modern gaming, an instant signal of imminent danger that is psychologically unnerving. As combat erupts, Petri Alanko’s compositions surge to the forefront. Driving synths and powerful percussion kick in, not as a generic action theme, but as an extension of Jesse’s abilities. The music swells as she launches concrete slabs with her Launch power and peaks as she seizes control of an enemy’s mind. The score becomes a feedback loop of empowerment, its intensity directly tied to the player’s actions, making every victory feel like a symphony of controlled chaos.
Beyond the ambient and combat states, the score delivers some of the game’s most unforgettable moments through set-pieces. The "Take Control" sequence is rightfully legendary. As Jesse embarks on the Asynchronous Suit mission, the Old Gods of the Asgard’s powerful, rocking anthem erupts. This isn't just music playing over gameplay; it’s diegetic, it’s part of the narrative. The song’s lyrics about seizing destiny and breaking free perfectly mirror Jesse’s own journey from a lost, searching woman to the confident, powerful Director. The pounding rhythm synchronizes with the relentless combat, creating a euphoric, almost dream-like state where the player, like Jesse, feels unstoppable. It is a perfect fusion of gameplay, narrative, and music, a moment of pure video game alchemy.
Conversely, the Ahti sequences use music to completely disarm the player. The Finnish janitor and seemingly true master of the Oldest House provides moments of bizarre respite, his personal mixtape of Finnish folk music and tranquil tunes replacing the oppressive sounds of the house. These moments are deliberately incongruous, offering pockets of warmth and weird peace that deepen the world’s mystery. Why does this music have power here? Ahti’s songs suggest a deeper, older harmony underlying the Bureau’s chaos, a rhythm that only he understands.
The Ultimate Edition itself, bundling the base game with its two expansive expansions, The Foundation and AWE, further showcases the score’s versatility. The Foundation trades the industrial noise of the main building for the deep, geological hum of the Astral Plane. The music here is more primal, with deep bass tones and crystalline melodies that evoke the feeling of ancient stone and the raw power of the Nail. In AWE, the score takes a darker, more horror-inflected turn. The investigations into the Altered World Events, particularly the echoes of the Bright Falls AWE, are underscored by tense, suspenseful strings and unsettling drones that pay homage to the survival horror roots of Alan Wake.
In conclusion, to experience Control Ultimate Edition without sound is to experience only half of its reality. The score is the invisible director of the player’s emotions, the hidden language of the Oldest House, and the rhythmic heartbeat of Jesse Faden’s transformation. It is a testament to the power of audio in interactive media, proving that what we hear can be just as impactful as what we see. It doesn’t just accompany the adventure; it defines it, guides it, and lives within it long after the final credits roll. The sound of the Hiss chant, the roar of "Take Control," and the sacred silence of the corridors are not easily forgotten. They are, like the Objects of Power themselves, permanently etched into the memory, a supernatural adventure conducted not with a baton, but with a meticulously crafted and utterly unforgettable score.
