Before 2017, video game soundtracks were largely divided into two camps: the orchestral (heroic, sweeping) and the electronic (atmospheric, pulse-driven). Shoji Meguro, the composer for Persona 5 , looked at both and said, “No. We need acid jazz, funk, and the ghost of a 1970s heist film.”
In a year when the world felt like it was running out of surprises, the Persona 5 Original Soundtrack delivered the only surprise that mattered: the one you never see coming. And it did it with a finger-snap, a leather glove, and a bassline that still hasn't stopped walking. Persona 5 Original Soundtrack -2017-
Because 2017 didn't need another angry record. It had plenty of those. What it needed was a sound that said: You can change the world, but you don't have to lose your cool doing it. The brass stabs in “Rivers in the Desert.” The carnival-organ turned war march in “The Whims of Fate.” The sheer audacity of a final boss theme (“Swear to My Bones”) that is, at its core, a sad, hopeful waltz. Fast-forward to 2024, and the Persona 5 soundtrack saw a deluxe vinyl reissue. It sold out in minutes. Critics called it nostalgia. But it's not nostalgia. Nostalgia is soft, blurry, and comfortable. This music is sharp, clear, and uncomfortable. Before 2017, video game soundtracks were largely divided
That scrapped demo, which leaked on a small Japanese forum in late 2017, tells you everything about the soundtrack's secret thesis: Revolution is not a scream. It's a smirk. And it did it with a finger-snap, a
In 2017, the world was a pressure cooker. Politically, socially, digitally—everyone felt the slow, creeping weight of unseen ceilings and locked doors. That year, a video game about Japanese teenagers rebelling against corrupt adults became a global phenomenon. But it wasn't the turn-based combat or the calendar system that made Persona 5 the anthem of a generation. It was the sound.