Welcome to Critical Hit, where I (or someone else on the PC Gamer team) celebrate and lament all things videogame music, audio design, and the ways our favourite games make our ears tingle.
I have not been able to stop thinking about Big Walk since I finished the game alongside six of my friends last month. What I had anticipated to be a relatively okay, quick-dirty-fun co-op game unfurled itself into one of the most thoughtful videogames I've ever played, and easily my favourite of 2026 so far. I cannot even begin to explain what a fantastic job developer House House has done at creating an incredibly special, unreplicatable experience that has had me and my pals continuing to talk about it in the weeks since we rolled credits.
While so much of its exceptionality lies in its puzzles (and all of the little moments in between), one of the biggest things I fell in love with was its music. It's a surprisingly sporadic facet of the game—Big Walk doesn't have a soundtrack that accompanies you everywhere, and you can go some real chunky stretches of time without hearing any music at all.
But in the little pockets of the world where it reveals itself, having it cut through the silence makes the moments you spend with it feel even more special. Spread across almost 30 tracks, Australian duo aksfx play around with these delightfully ethereal, pulsing beats and jumping vocals that sound like they should be mildly unsettling on paper, but the execution leads to this delightful feeling of exploration and airiness.
Tons of Big Walk's music is scattered across radio stations that you have to go and seek out, or simply stumble across as you're exploring and shooting the shit with your pals. These are some of my favourite locations in the game—the radio stations are fully immersive, spatial audio experiences thanks to each one being surrounded with speakers that let you really hear each and every component.
Not only are they moments of respite to bask in for a bit, but they're the perfect backdrop to punctuate cute moments with your pals. Coming across a radio station right as the sun is rising and taking a second to watch it happen as the notes delicately echo around you feels like something straight out of a slice-of-life anime's penultimate episode, the one that makes you bawl your eyes out.
And you can even take these pieces of music around with you if the silence isn't quite your thing. Big Walk lets you strap the radios to someone's backpack, turning them into a walking boombox/audial beacon. It's a lovely little choice on House House's part—I took great pleasure in carrying one such radio around with me for hours, and when we finally deposited it I actually felt a little bit sad.
For me, though, aksfx's magnum opus comes from Big Walk's theme itself. It's the first thing you hear when you boot up the game—jumping vocals evoke this odd sense of nostalgia before you've even ventured into the lobby for the first time. And when you've rolled credits 10 or so hours in? It hits even harder, and has me tearing up just a little bit every time I listen to it.
The cosiness it adds to the overall experience, and the fact that just a few vocal chops can get the waterworks going? Well, that's what videogame music is all about, isn't it? Making us feel things, both in the moment and even detached from its original context thanks to the memories it brings along with it.
There are so many reasons to love Big Walk, and its music is certainly up there as one of my biggest. Much like the game's concept, puzzles, and little three-blobbed players, the game's soundtrack may be simple at first glance, but its execution brings so much depth that I hadn't anticipated.
