WHAT EVERYONE SHOULD BE TALKING ABOUT THIS WEEK
On its 25th anniversary, how Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater helped revolutionise mainstream punk rock and the music industry’s relationship with gaming.
Words: Dan Harrison.
The year is 1999. The Backstreet Boys are pleading for you to quit playing games with their hearts, Limp Bizkit are doing it all for the nookie, and somewhere in the depths of Neversoft’s California office, a bunch of (probably) sleep-deprived developers are putting the finishing touches on a little game called Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater. They’re about to drop a cultural atom bomb that – rather unexpectedly – will help radically influence the landscape of post-millennial alternative music.
THPS carved a permanent half-pipe into the collective consciousness of a generation. But while the game itself was bags of fun, it’s the music that really felt to grab the imagination. For many young gamers, it was the equivalent of discovering a cool older sibling’s record collection, a window into a world of music that felt dangerous, exciting, and utterly irresistible.
As the franchise celebrates its 25th anniversary, Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater’s influence on music and gaming culture continues to resonate. In 2020, Activision released a remastered version of Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater 1 and 2, developed by Vicarious Visions. The remaster not only brought back the original soundtrack that defined a generation but also added 37 new tracks, proving that the series’ appeal – and its soundtrack – remain as potent as ever.
At the heart of this pixelated revolution was the man himself, Tony Hawk. Not content with merely being the Michael Jordan of skateboarding, Hawk decided to moonlight as a musical curator, handpicking tracks that would serve as the sonic backdrop to millions of virtual ollies, grinds, and, inevitably, spectacular wipeouts.
As Hawk told Loudwire in a 2019 interview, “Skateboarding was counter-culture, so [skaters] were interested in a different kind of soundtrack.” This philosophy resulted in a masterclass in musical curation, a perfect blend of punk aggression, ska bounce, hip-hop swagger, and rock’n’roll attitude. This wasn’t easy listening; this was a rallying cry for misfits, outcasts, and anyone who’d ever felt the urge to stick it to the man.
The undisputed anthem of the early THPS universe is ‘Superman’ by Goldfinger. Those opening chords became the unofficial sound of virtual skateboarding, a Pavlovian trigger that could make even the most coordinated gamer’s fingers twitch in anticipation.
John Feldmann, Goldfinger’s frontman, couldn’t have foreseen what he was unleashing when he penned this ska-punk earworm. As he told Loudwire in 2020, “That song has been the biggest song of my career… I wrote it in 1997, having no idea what it would become.” If only he’d known that your little ditty about a doomed relationship would become the soundtrack to millions of button-mashing sessions and failed attempts at landing a 900.
But ‘Superman’ wasn’t flying solo in the THPS musical universe. It had a whole squad of audio superheroes backing it up. Primus’s ‘Jerry Was a Race Car Driver’ became the unofficial anthem of speed runs, its frenetic energy perfectly matching the chaos of hurtling through a virtual skatepark at breakneck speed. The Dead Kennedys’ ‘Police Truck’ brought a different flavour to the mix. Nothing says “stick it to the man” quite like skating to a punk anthem about police brutality – a history lesson in counterculture, delivered at 100mph while trying to nail that perfect grind.
As the series progressed, the soundtrack evolved, becoming a veritable treasure trove of musical discovery. Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater 2 introduced Papa Roach’s ‘Blood Brothers’, a nu-metal assault that perfectly captured the angst and energy of the early 2000s. It also featured Rage Against the Machine’s ‘Guerrilla Radio’, a track that made suburban kids feel like revolutionary heroes from a band who had a track record of it. And let’s not forget the metal version of Public Enemy’s ‘Bring the Noise’, a genre-bending masterpiece that showed just how eclectic these soundtracks could be.
THPS3 brought CKY’s ’96 Quite Bitter Beings’ into the mix, and by the time THPS4 rolled around, even rock royalty AC/DC were getting in on the act with ‘T.N.T’, proving that the series could seamlessly blend classic rock with its punk roots. Tracks like ‘Cyclone’ by Dub Pistols from THPS2 and Millencolin’s ‘No Cigar’ became unexpected anthems, etched into the memories of players.
These songs were gateways to whole new musical worlds for a more mainstream audience just getting to grips with wallet chains and skate pants. THPS was effectively slipping gamers their first punk record and saying, “This’ll change your life, kid.” And change lives it did. Suddenly, those who thought ska was a type of fish were skanking in their bedrooms. Teens who couldn’t tell punk from funk were diving headfirst into the back catalogues of Bad Religion and NOFX.
In an era before Spotify algorithms and YouTube recommendations, THPS became an unexpected tastemaker. It was a time when finding new music meant more than just clicking ‘shuffle’ on a playlist. It meant skating through a virtual warehouse, pulling off an impossible combo, and thinking, “Damn, what is this song?” The THPS soundtracks were like the ultimate mixtapes, curated by the coolest kid in school (who just happened to be a professional skateboarder).
For many in 2001, beyond music TV and rock magazines, there were few avenues to discover these niche acts. THPS filled this gap, becoming a crucial platform for musical exploration. It brought alternative music to the masses in a way that was incredibly accessible, especially for younger audiences. While FIFA games would later become known for their influential soundtracks, THPS was the true pioneer in using video games as a platform for music discovery.
Take Bodyjar, for instance. This Australian punk-rock band might have remained unknown to many if not for their inclusion in THPS3. Suddenly, their track ‘Not the Same’ was blasting through TV speakers across the globe, introducing a whole new audience to their high-energy sound.
The impact on the featured artists was equally seismic. Greg Graffin of Bad Religion, a band whose intellectual punk-rock seemed an unlikely fit for a skateboarding game, told Rolling Stone in 2019, “I started noticing a lot more younger people at our shows… I think a lot of that was due to the Tony Hawk Pro Skater game.”
But THPS didn’t just impact the artists; it shaped an entire generation’s musical tastes. Players absorbed these soundtracks through osmosis, the tracks blending into one long, cohesive playlist that became the backdrop to countless hours of virtual skateboarding. Ask any THPS veteran, and they’ll likely be able to hum the entire soundtrack of their favourite instalment, even if they can’t remember what they had for breakfast this morning.
The game’s influence extended far beyond the confines of consoles and CRT TVs. It changed the way the music industry viewed video games. Suddenly, getting your song in a game wasn’t just a nice bonus; it was a legitimate marketing strategy. Record labels started seeing games as a way to break new artists, and artists started seeing games as a way to reach new audiences, evolving into full radio stations in GTA, or entire games focused around the soundtracks like Guitar Hero and Rock Band. It was a symbiotic relationship that would shape the industry for years to come.
As Scott Pease, THPS lead producer, told Loudwire in 2019, “We weren’t really taking our cues from other games, but more looking to skate culture for inspiration.” This approach set the precedent for countless sports video game soundtracks to come. Everything from the Madden NFL and Need For Speed franchises to handfuls of extreme sports titles would look to THPS as an example of what was possible for music within a video game.
THPS landed at a perfect moment when louder, alternative music was already gaining mainstream traction. Acts like the previously mentioned Limp Bizkit were gracing music magazine covers beyond just rock titles, signalling a shift from the indie-dominated mid-90s back to heavier sounds. While film soundtracks like American Pie were also making waves, THPS provided the backing to hours of play – ultra-catchy hooks and sugar-spun, razor-sharp rebellion, blasted on repeat was always going to stick. The pop in pop-punk more than did its job in the earworm stakes.
Looking back on 25 years of THPS, it’s clear that its impact on music was nothing short of revolutionary. It created a shared musical experience that transcended geographical boundaries. Whether shredding in Sheffield or pulling off combos in California, players were part of a global community united by a love of sick tricks and even sicker tunes. The game turned button-mashers into mosh-pit aficionados, soundtracking a cultural shift, introducing a generation to the raw energy of punk, the aggression of metal, and the attitude of rock’n’roll.
Yet, as influential as the THPS soundtrack was, it may have inadvertently contributed to a certain stagnation in alternative music that took years to shake off. The iconic nature of these early 2000s tracks set such a high bar that punk and louder music often found itself stuck in that era, struggling to progress beyond the sound that had become so popular. The halcyon days partly ushered in by THPS became both a blessing and a curse, a golden age that proved difficult to move beyond.
Twenty-five years on, the THPS soundtrack remains a time capsule of turn-of-the-millennium alternative music. It’s a nostalgic trip down memory lane for some, and for others, an ongoing education in the art of rebellion. Either way, it’s a legacy that continues to grind on.
Leave a Reply