Flute Boy’s Meadow – Malo Mart

This is it, folks. I promised I would start writing about some Zelda songs I don’t like, and so I decided to begin with the king . . . the one song I hate so much I avoid its location at all cost.

Malo Mart.

This song is the theme for a shop owned by a kid who looks like a baby. Its Castle Town branch is painted in colors and designs so incredibly bright and colorful they would make a Brony puke. The customers and sales representative ceaselessly perform a dance that no sober human being would dare be caught performing. And everyone is so. Bloody. Cheerful. All to the tune of this song.
Normally this is the part where I say “jump on in to read about it.” Today I will simply say,

“Abandon all hope ye who enter here.”


Track: “Malo Mart”
Game: Twilight Princess
Purpose: Utter Annoyance Background Theme, Town/Shop
Composers: Toru Minegishi, Asuka Ota, Koji Kondo

Okay, so maybe I’m being overly dramatic here. This song works for what it needs to do. I still hate it. Moreso I hate the fact that it will be stuck in my head for the rest of today. And tomorrow. And probably Wednesday.

The Point
As mentioned before, this song serves as the theme for Malo Mart once its second branch is opened in Castle Town. Malo Mart itself is a mixed bag of things; I see it as a satire of certain discount marts and other such stores in the world today. Think Wal-Mart. Because of its low prices and enthusiastic marketing, this store literally has people begging to buy their merchandise, whether needed or not. Think Apple . . . well, not the price part, but you get my point.

“You bought it, you are smart! You bought it at Malo Mart!”

Beyond that, this is a store opened and run by a child. It’s safe to say the gaudy colors and cheerful tune can both be attributed to said owner. In that matter there is a bit of hilarity to Malo Mart; previously, this shop was so posh and elitist they required you to pay for your shoes to be shined JUST TO ENTER, then you were charged impossible prices for simple items. Now, the same elitist snob who once worked there is now stuck in a ridiculous costume dancing and moonwalking because his store got bought out by a baby. Karma, you magnificent thing you . . .

So, the theme for this shop cannot be the same sort of stuff Twilight Princess usually features. No subdued acoustic guitars. No soft, beautiful strings and woodwinds. This is the ultimate mockery of modern business, and it’s run by a kid.

The Sound
Okay, this song is annoying. With ceaseless sharp whistles, an overly enthusiastic set of fake trumpets, and an unsteady percussion ensemble including a snare drum and claps . . . this song makes me want to tear my ears off and use them to stifle whatever God-forsaken speaker unit is currently playing it. And I am voluntarily listening to it right now. Why do I do this to myself?

. . . Anyway, on a more serious note: overall the theme has that sort of supermarket flare that we expect from overly-enthusiastic marketing campaigns. Plus, a nice touch is the fact that you can hear the sales worker announcing prices and other deals over the spinning loudspeaker on his head (did I really just type that like it’s perfectly normal?) amid all the clamor and bustle of the song.

Speaking of clamor and bustle, that part works too. You get this excitement out of the song (whether you want to or not) that evokes the feeling of a crowded market full of people excited for deals. Wal-Mart on Black Friday kind of stuff, just less violent. Finally, it is catchy. Unbelievably so. This song will linger in your head, ceaselessly chittering its happiness and gaily colored notes for eternity and more. Don’t worry about it; that’s the song’s job. It was made to be so. You are just the poor unsuspecting child stuck with it.

The Verdict
This song does its job excellently. I still hate it with a passion.

The tune is catchy, happy, and carries a certain absurdity to it. Perfectly opposite end of the spectrum from the stuffy overpriced place that was there before. Really, seeing the salesman stuck in that ludicrous outfit and dancing to this awful tune is reward enough for the endless cash you pour into Malo’s coffers to open this place. There, the song succeeds perfectly; it matches the cheerful absurdity of its owner and the whole situation of its opening. This is a kid’s song, through and through.

Additionally, and whether or not this was intentional I do not know, this song is a perfect satire of marketing schemes. Think about it: how do the likes of The Black-Eyed Peas, Nicki Minaj, and Maroon 5 get so dang popular? It isn’t because they are phenomenal artists (they really aren’t) but rather because their songs are marketable. AKA they are catchy as heck and you cannot help but hum them for days after hearing them, to the point where you almost want to go hear the song again just because of how often it plays through your mind. You cannot help but think about their product. And that is how it sells.

Same basic concept here; the music sticks in your head. It is marketable, but then again so are the products. You are praised for purchasing items from Malo Mart because you are smart! You get phenomenal deals here, so buy Buy BUY! Right down to the price of the Magic Armor (598, because 600 just sounds too expensive. Think of everybody ever selling things for $9.99), this place really is the ultimate satire of today’s mega-businesses and their marketing schemes, and my goodness does the music reflect that oh-so-perfectly.

Okay. I’m done. That turned into a half-rant, half-praise of this place, but still . . . hopefully you get the idea. I really, really do hate this song, but partially because I am supposed to. It’s the way it was designed. The way the whole place was, really. Marketable, catchy, go-with-the-flow mob mentality. Gotta love it. Apple should blare this song in their stores worldwide.

So what are your thoughts about this song? Do you enjoy it, or are you like me and wish it would stop hurting your ears? Let me know in the comments! Meanwhile, I will be listening to Ballad of the Wind Fish to flush this out of my head. Feel free to join me.