Various - Deathloop (LP) - Blue & Orange Vinyl

If you’ve spent any time stalking targets around Blackreef, you’ll know Deathloop’s swagger starts with its music. The soundtrack leans into a stylish 60s palette, all brass punches, slinky basslines, vibraphone chimes and fuzzed guitars that strut like they own the room. It feels purpose built for Colt’s cat‑and‑mouse routine, but it works just as well on the turntable, where the grooves open up and you can soak in the detail. This Various Artists collection gathers the game’s spy‑fi cues and lounge‑lit detours into a front‑to‑back listen that never drifts into wallpaper. It’s a proper album, not just a souvenir for fans.

The thing that hooks you straight away is how cleverly the writing plays with time. Motifs reappear in new disguises, a cheeky nod to the loop that keeps resetting your day. A brass figure that sounded cocky in one cue returns slower and more suspicious in another, as if peering round a corner. The rhythm section keeps everything moving with clipped snares, sly hi‑hats and that rubbery bass that’s equal parts nightclub and stakeout. When the arrangements flare, you get full colour, with organ stabs and vibraphone runs twinkling over big, roomy drums. The production has grit too, like it’s been kissed by spring reverb and slightly wonky tape machines rather than polished to oblivion.

“Déjà Vu” is the obvious touchstone. The track, fronted by FJØRA and produced with Sencit, became the game’s calling card for good reason. It’s a killer theme, built on a melody you can hum after one spin and a rhythm that sidles up before it snaps. Heard here outside the trailer hype cycle, it still lands. There’s a Bond‑ish glamour in the vocal, a wink in the horns, and a breakdown that tees the chorus up like a sucker punch. If you’re the type who grabs an album for one blockbuster tune, Deathloop delivers that hook and then gives you a whole lot more in the same mood.

What keeps me flipping sides is how the quieter moments sharpen the whole picture. Between the chase themes and the big struts, there are smoky instrumentals that could soundtrack a late‑night drink with the blinds half closed. Electric pianos murmur, a snare brushes the groove, and a lonely guitar sends out twangy phrases that hang in the air. It’s not just vibe for vibe’s sake either. These pieces deepen the world Arkane Lyon built. You can almost see Blackreef’s snow and neon while you listen, hear a muffled party down the hall, picture a Visionary slipping through a side door.

As a player, you’ll remember how the music reacts to your craftiness. On record, you can hear the building blocks of that dynamic system, sections that would swell when you were spotted, parts that lay low when you were sneaking. It makes for a record with a good sense of pace. Side A comes out swinging, Side B peels back the curtain, Side C gets sly, and Side D ties a bow on the whole caper. Even without the on‑screen feedback, the writing has plenty of tension and release baked in.

The vinyl edition is a treat for fans. The artwork leans into that bold retro style the game won awards for, and the mastering gives the drums room to breathe so the brass doesn’t bulldoze the mix. I first grabbed the Deathloop vinyl after spotting it in a Melbourne record store, and it has been a reliable mood setter ever since. If you prefer to buy Various Artists records online, this one pops up often, and it sits nicely alongside other Various Artists albums on vinyl that curate a strong theme rather than a single artist’s voice. For collectors hunting through vinyl records Australia, it’s a no‑brainer addition, especially if you like your soundtracks to stand on their own two feet rather than lean on nostalgia.

Deathloop the game arrived in 2021 with a stack of acclaim for its art direction and overall design, and the soundtrack absolutely pulled its weight in that impression. Hearing it away from the gunplay and banter, you appreciate the craft even more. The writing is tight, the performances feel lived‑in, and the production serves the period feel without turning the whole thing into a museum piece. It’s tasteful but cheeky, polished but a bit dangerous round the edges. If you’ve been circling a copy, do it. Various Artists vinyl rarely feels this cohesive, and this set nails the trick of being both a love letter to a style and a character in its own right.