PaRappa the Rapper 2

Having soldified their position at the top of the “experimental” commerical gaming heap in Japan, NanaOn-Sha were able to let their hair down with PaRappa 2, moving past the idyllic picture-book narrative of the original game in the process. What this presents as is split between two equally disconcerting plot threads: the first a militaristic invasion of PaRappa Town by noodle enthusiasts, prompting late-game armed resistance by the protagonists, and the second a quest by PaRappa to be come a more “mature” lover. Look no further than Master Onion in a sleazy red tracksuit instructing PaRappa through the TV on his brand of romantic gestures (still mostly related to karate) as PaRappa tries them out on his enthusiastic best friend PJ.¹ Interspersed are scenes of PaRappa and his girlfriend Sunny’s respective fathers scrambling around on the ground, having accidentally shrunk from one of PaRappa’s dad’s inventions. The developers assuredly understand how ridiculous the scenarios are now, even compared to the off-kilter Um Jammer Lammy, and they sprinkle in non-sequiturs and little gags to add extra flair, from Master Onion going on a tangent about his legal problems to primary antagonist Colonel Noodles dropping nasty innuendo.² Even when they’re not necessarily going for a laugh, the stages still draw the player’s attention with dynamic visuals, such as with a galactic PaRappa looming over the earth during the even verses in the song Big.

More noticeable than the wonky flourishes is the excellent music. Masaya Matsuura and his team evolve from the interpolation-based³ choppy beats of the first game, which were bops but already outdated in the late ’90s, to lush, free-flowing compositions. Sections rarely loop when they can adjust over the course of a track, giving the impression of musicians wandering in and out of the studio between licks. On the first stage, “Toasty Buns”, a Clavinet squiggles in the left ear while a wah-wah laden guitar lays the foundational rhythm in the right, each while additional guitars, errant sax, synth noises, and string stabs drop in as needed to plug holes. This overall configuration drives the groove for most of the tracks, sometimes with the activity level swapped between the Clav and the guitar as on “Sista Mooesha” or a Rhodes taking over on the left in “Big”. On the latter, the odd verses restrain themselves, hanging behind the beat against sixteenths on hi-hat and off-beat accents until the rappers launch into space. At this point, a timpani roll ushers in fawning orchestral strings as the electric piano resonates in both ears, scaling up with a pitch generator screaming towards the upper octaves. With the space clearing out, the chorded instruments ease back in, the drums having replaced its syncopation with driving ride and wood-blocks. This description still doesn’t do justice to the layout of the soundscape, so effortlessly weaving in counterpoints and raising up the rappers above. Although the other songs don’t quite match “Big”’s ethereality, even the ’80s George Clinton squelch of “Hair Scare” and the clipped glissandos and stacked basses of “Noodles Can’t Be Beat” thicken themselves through skillful layering.

For fans of Um Jammer Lammy, there’s plenty of Lammy and the other members of MilkCan to be found in the backgrounds, and it’s not rare for her to directly interact with PaRappa and the masters. [src]

This aids the rapping too: PaRappa 2 increases the rhythmic complexity over its predecessors by leaning on the music’s dense grooves. Syncopation plays into virtually every song in PaRappa 2, and it drives the skill ceiling up for the series’ signature freestyle mechanic. This combines with newer laid-back flows that don’t pin themselves to the beat quite as heavily, making even rapid sixteenths swing a bit. The strictly aligned eighth notes of the first PaRappa give way to these more realistic raps and help sell the freestyle fantasy the game aims for. Elevating this are four difficulty levels that now scale and chop the individual lines into more complex arrangements, not only escalating the challenge but also illustrating what variations on the regular lines stack points, guiding players towards the elusive Cool rankings.

As an additional major improvement, the game finally offers more minute feedback on each line through three gauges at the bottom of the screen. These rate your performance on your adherence to the stage master’s rhythm, your additional material, and the groove, or where you fall in relation to the beat. While these add much needed clarity on how exactly the game works under the hood, the overall timing detection algorithm has undergone tightening as well, for better or for worse. While consistent play is more achieveable now, what the game is really looking for is swung off-beats: if you can hit them (and mix up the buttons you use, within the guidelines set forth by the masters), then you’ve achieved the skill ceiling. It’s not necessarily a satisfying progression for someone looking to push score play, even if freaking out on the mic once you’re handed the reins in Cool mode has its novelty. What has more intrigue is the multiplayer mode, which takes the form of back-and-forth HORSE between two players on a line. Each player gets a chance to build up their health on the normal rhythm of the line, and then they take turns whittling down each other’s points, with successful raps rewriting the rhythm for the other rapper to follow. This adds some level of strategy (do you go for the all-out freestyle or hew close to the beat to win the war of attrition?), but it’s ultimately bounded by who can follow the off-beats and spit heat and who can only flail on the mic.