Why Ridge Racer Type 4 Has the Best Soundtrack of All Time

I know this is a bit out of left field…

But the whole point of this blog is that I get to talk about what I want to talk about without worry of who else might care about it. So let’s get right into it!

So what makes Ridge Racer 4 (AKA R4) so special?

On the surface, it’s just a run-of-the-mill PlayStation game, but when you look closer, you’ll find that R4 is a classic sleeper hit with a surprising cult following. Racing games have been around almost since the advent of video games, with their present day iterations being either arcade-style games like Mario Kart, or in-depth racing simulators like Project Cars, or things somewhere in between like Gran Turismo. I would place R4 within the Gran Turismo category, but with its arrival being the tail end of the 90s, it’s not quite the technical feat we’ve come to expect these highly-detailed car showcases to be.

There are two aspects that make this game so special. The first is the surprisingly tight gameplay with satisfying controls, and the second (which I argue eclipses anything else about the game) is the soundtrack. The sheer elation experienced while playing this game is amplified tenfold by the spectacular soundtrack. Racing games are known for having good music, especially of a certain synth-jazz variety, often complimented by pianos, drums, and a touch of brass, but in my opinion, R4 stands head and shoulders above them all… and I’m far from the only believer in this.

Alright, so what makes the music so special?

Admittedly, there is a certain intangibility to the wow factor that the music brings, but I’ll do my best to express why this album is so significant. I think that the crux of this x factor is the music’s ability to convey what the freedom and tension driving really feels like inside. From the bombastic tracks that make you feel like you’re driving the party wherever you go to the somber, soulful tracks that make you feel a laidback sense of focus on your target, this music feels like it was composed by someone who knows why we like to drive, and why we like the feeling of racing a competitor through narrow bends on a winding course.

I can think of few soundtracks that feel like they are looking me in the eye and saying “Hey. I get it too.” Am I waxing poetic about something really insignificant that is basically just headcanon? Maybe. Does that change how good this music actually is? Not one bit. Listening to certain tracks gives me such a strong sense of nostalgia, which is a feeling that I’ve really come to enjoy more than I ever thought I could. I can picture myself on my friend’s couch discovering how to utilize the drift mechanic in the game for the first time. I can picture myself taking my Autumn drive to Port Townsend, racing through the falling leaves on Highway 101. I can picture myself darting around town, learning just how much there is to love about the art of driving. Those experiences have made a permanent imprint on my brain and they wouldn’t be as sweet without music that somehow expressed everything I would feel through the connection my hands and feet made to the steering and pedals.

Music is so commonly beloved for expressing feelings that we can’t seem to put into words for ourselves.

Some albums give detailed accounts of what heartbreak feels like, others express the ecstatic joys of love, others the angst of a world that seems to bend itself against you, and so on. People attach meaning to these works and their artists not only because it causes them to feel something, think about something, or understand something, but also because it resonates with them. These feelings beg for the cathartic release of knowing that not only does someone understand what we are feeling, they feel it too.

There’s a certain peace that can only come through knowing that someone feels what we are feeling.

This feeling of being so seen, so known, and so connected makes up such a tremendous chunk of what being human is about. We desire to know and be known, whether we can admit those urges or not. Music that connects to experiences we’ve had allows us to experience that, perhaps not in the way of a one-to-one interpersonal connection, but in a way that provides a different kind of meaningfulness. I imagine that putting music out there can feel like saying “Hey, this is what I feel. Is anyone else getting this?” because I know that hearing the music that resonates with such impact gives me the feeling that says “I see you, and I feel that same thing too.” I find myself wondering “Is the composer in my head, or did I get in theirs?”

What I love about R4’s OST is that it conveys so much about this euphoric, melodramatic rush almost exclusively without words. Every meaningful part is done without lyrics, allowing you to really focus in on what the music itself is communicating. It sharpens your focus, deepens your introspection, and amps up the energy of every moment it needs to.

R4 perfectly nails the highs and lows of motorsport in a way that seamlessly adapts to one’s own subjective experience.

I don’t think I will ever truly get over the perfection of this OST, and honestly, I hope I never do. I somehow nonsensically feel that I’ve felt every beat, every riff, every melody, and every part of this OST in the pavement I’ve rolled grippy rubber over. There are some works that we feel become parts of ourselves in life, and somehow, this “lowly” PS1 video game soundtrack has landed itself among the greats in my mind. If you’ve made it this far, I implore you to please go give the R4: Ridge Racer Type 4 Official Soundtrack a listen.

Thanks for not reading.