Why 3am Minecraft makes people cry - 'Liminal' Music
Instead of just thinking ‘how does music fit with the game’, we can also ask ‘how does the game fit with music’?
I’ve spotted a new addition to the ‘categories’ of music usages I’ve been writing about within my Substack.
This may be a personal reflection, but one of which I’ve seen paralleled amongst communities and talked about online. Right under my nose, there is a way that gamers seem to listen to music that I rarely see formally considered - players listening to music ‘liminally’ between checkpoints of a game, immersing themselves in the world and listening to music as it was originally created.
An Origin Story
‘Liminal’ Music
Why 3am Minecraft?
What other examples?
1. An Origin Story
I recently stumbled upon a video about an early-access indie game called Motor Town. It started as a simple driving simulator a couple of years ago where players can perform driving tasks in a thriving world such as drive taxis, haul cargo in a truck, enforce rules as the police etc, but a few weeks ago it morphed into this sprawling role-play (RP) server with a couple thousand concurrent players.
Motor Town allows you to do many things at your own pace, and roleplay like this distract players from reality. Similarly explored in my Webfishing post, these games don’t leave us too busy like we feel exhausted after playing a game, but enough that lets us design our time in the game and give us moments to chill.
Which I like. Because I’m a filthy casual.
My favourite feature within this game is that you can listen radios from all over the world while you are driving (similar to that Radio.Garden app) and you can create your own radio stations too. The fact that I can play a game and drive from A to B listening to anything across the world suddenly makes me feel like I’m there and I’m actually live listening to it.
When I read this games description, the first sentence was "Sometimes the best therapy is a long drive with music"…
And then it clicked - I was able to listen to the music for the context it was originally intended because of the way I was able to listen to it.
2. ‘Liminal’ Music
Refresher for my Advertising, Main, Background, Optional and Gamemotif categories here.
Here’s my new category: Liminal Music. It arises during transitional or in-between moments in gameplay when players aren’t actively completing missions or following a scripted narrative, but instead find themselves in a reflective, open-ended space. It’s in these quiet, purposeful pauses that music takes on a meaning beyond simple background sound, like a long drive between objectives or sat watching an in-game sunset.
I’d say that providing that the music matches the mood, players can hear music in its original context without it being overshadowed by urgent gameplay demands or heavily curated story beats. Therefore, by allowing infinite time and space to enjoy these environments, liminal moments can exist.
Practically speaking, this is important to understand that the game acts as the music curator first, so there’s a benefit to ensuring that there is a music availability for moments like this.
3. Why 3am Minecraft?
Minecraft’s music…man. How does a game of such simplicity envoke such strong emotions? And why do we all remember playing this at 3am? And why does everyone keep saying they cry when they hear the music? We must solve this mystery.
Minecraft’s music stands with an average of over 100 million plays per track on its album, and this track should be familiar to those late night veterans:
I think the most relevant liminal moment I’ve found is when playing late-night Minecraft with friends. Imagine the scene - you’re playing late one night, working on your own fractional projects across your homebase. It’s 3am and all your pals are still online…and then ‘Mice On Venus’ starts playing. Even at the time, this delicate music is the definition of melancholy and its conclusive feeling seems to a common effect - stopping people in their tracks to enjoy the moment.
C418’s ‘Mice On Venus’ is a heartbreaking reincarnation of careless late nights, cooperative ad-hoc adventures and building without blueprints. Amongst the ambience were the voices of your friend’s ‘deep meaningful conversation’, or even your own reflective moment, while we were feeding chickens…or sobbing.
Having the ability to enjoy this music whenever it came on created room for nostalgia, because we remembered how we felt during these moments. If we were busy maybe we couldn’t have time for liminal moments like this. Here’s one of the many videos referring to Minecraft’s music.
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The average Minecraft player age is currently 24, this means that these players were around 10 when Minecraft launched in 2009. By 2012, Minecraft already ranked as one of the most popular games, and even after all these years it has continued to retain its popularity.
For a game without a traditional storyline, it’s remarkable how many memories & emotion people associate with Minecraft. Could the absence of a main narrative have created open-ended, liminal moments that sparked a deeper sense of nostalgia?
Even without the power of nostalgia, these music moments would be less likely if the game was actively keeping you busy. Having the ability to stop and listen to the music is what creates the room for these moments so the music can be heard.
4. What other examples exist?
a) ‘Grand Theft Auto’
As much as I’ve banged on about GTA in recent weeks, there’s a great example in-built into the gameplay. During and between missions - you are able to listen to radio stations diegetically in the world where your player agency creates the context. You do spend a fair chunk of your time travelling between missions, often ending up in random spots when you finish and needing to find your way to the next start point. That setup encourages natural exploration and lets the environment lead you around.
GTA’s huge customisable options enhance immersion in the world and present more purposeful exploration of the world within GTA, catalysing even more liminial moments.
b) Majora’s Mask’s ‘Astral Observatory’
This is a slightly different utilisation of ‘Liminal Music’, as it is more like a ‘Liminal Space’. In the Nintendo 64 game The Legend Of Zelda: Majora’s Mask, there is one area of the game that has a particularly outstanding soundtrack that is loved by much of the community - The Astral Observatory. It’s likely a combination of how different both the audio and visuals are for this area, but the below video of a 10 hour loop of this music has 1.4 million views with comments such as the below. It’s not uncommon for stories of people saying they stayed here for a while out of choice and forged their own liminal space.
Motor Town, Minecraft, GTA and Majora’s Mask are all great examples of how designing natural space between gaming missions allows us to truly listen to music. So it’s not how music fits with gaming here, it’s actually how gaming fits with music.
I think there is a real necessity for us to exist in gaming liminal spaces, the places halfway between boring yet unavoidable - like a commute. It’s real, but when we are enriched by a moment, such as driving over a beautiful view because we’re taking a break from the main storyline, it becomes a reflection of this valuable interaction people have with games.
This Substack has always focused on the space between music and gaming. Each side has its own domain, yet there’s a special magic in the overlap—some of it sparked by those who choose to explore it on their own.
TLDR
Liminal Music is music listened to during those quiet, in-between moments where players aren't rushing missions but are simply existing in the game world. Whether it's cruising in Motor Town with global radio stations, getting hit by nostalgia at 3am in Minecraft or naturally finding your way to the next mission location - these pauses let music shine in its original context.
Turns out sometimes the best soundtrack is the one you hear when you’re doing... well, nothing in particular.