Stereo is a stage: the band plays over there and you listen. VR has no ‘over there’ — you stand inside the ensemble, and the first time a trumpet fires three metres behind your skull you jump clean out of your skin. Ask me how I know.
For Glacier Drift we rewrote every rule. No hard-panned shocks, no out-of-nowhere fortissimos, dynamics cushioned like you would for a nervous flyer. Sub-bass became our narrator: danger settles in your ribs a full bar before it reaches your ears, exactly the way real weather turns.
We mixed for motion, too. Players swivel constantly, so the score is pinned to the world instead of the camera — the goal theme always drifts in from the objective’s direction, like an audible lighthouse. Playtesters steered by it without noticing.
VR taught me a restraint I now carry everywhere: if a cue lands at half volume with one ear covered, it lands anywhere.