It was at least a year ago that I last played "Minecraft" and I was eager to get back into it. It was an integral part of my childhood, and I wanted to relive a small piece of that. The gameplay hasn't captured my interest as it used to. Despite how much time had passed since my last game of "Minecraft", I still remember exactly how to progress. This made my achievements seem trivial. This experience is hard to not compare to the Herculean memory of my younger self. Her existence was defined by her ability to overcome all obstacles. My playthrough of the first part of the game was quick and easy. However, I did not make a mistake, but I overextended the technical capabilities on my laptop. I tried to load the Nether Dimension and I caused the game to crash. I also allowed a low-level enemy my kill before I could see it. I was a pushover and broke the game. I was frustrated and disappointed so I ended the game.
The "Minecraft” soundtrack can, despite its emotional impact, be considered ambient music in the strictest, most textbook sense of that term. Brian Eno, a musical visionary, wrote that "ambient music" was a term used to describe music that is both "as ignoreable as it is fascinating." He described the music as "ambient music" in the liner notes for Ambient 1: music for airports. But, just like Eno, it can be equally as interesting despite its textural and harmonic simplicity. The "Minecraft" soundtrack has rich, minimalistic chords that are reminiscent of Erik Satie or Philip Glass. It also features a context-appropriate blend of traditional sounds and futurism that is similar to Vangelis’s soundtrack for "Blade Runner."
When I first played "Minecraft", I didn't care a lot about ambient minimalism. To be honest, I didn’t choose to listen the “Minecraft” soundtrack. It was simply a result of playing the game. Although it seemed totally random, I didn't realize that constant exposure to the same few piano songs would lead to something important: They became time capsules for my childhood, burying themselves in my brain.
Warm memories are instantly triggered when I go back to those time capsules and hear songs from "Minecraft". I feel the joy of conquering daunting obstacles. I can see the worlds that I spent my time building. I can also recall the great parts of growing worlds have long since been retired from practical utility and are almost certain to be gone as well, unless they were repurposed by someone else to mine other imaginary resources. But, what is more disturbing than the inevitable entropic decay in physical and digital structures? The change that I see in myself, often called "growing up", which doesn't always feel like an easy upward climb. If one only considers my enjoyment of "Minecraft" over the past ten years, it might be said that I have gotten down.
With the advancement of technology there's also a rise of Minecraft servers of every type you can think of.
Growing up is not a bad thing. While I regret not being able to enjoy "Minecraft", I don't grieve my loss of ability to enjoy Macklemore and Ryan Lewis. In that case, I treasure it very much. The best thing about revisiting "Minecraft", is not that things have gotten worse, but that I am choosing to appreciate what has changed. I'm not excited about digging up rocks with my computer anymore. The piano's entry on C418's "Intro" gives me a hopeful, but somber feeling. It doesn't appear in Minecraft - Volume beta. This feeling reminds me of the feeling I had the first time I played "Minecraft", which I now understand to be the feeling of the beginning of a new chapter in my life.