Andra Ivănescu's Popular Music in the Nostalgia Video Game: The Way It Never Sounded presents unique insights into the various dynamics of nostalgia in video game music, an area of interest to both ludomusicologists and game fans. The challenge of working with fan cultures and personal passions in an academic context is managed well by Ivănescu through her clear enthusiasm for the subject and accessible writing style. She defines a conception of nostalgia that is useful for musicological study as a whole through her adoption of William Gibson's phrase “semiotic ghosts” to describe “the ghosts of cultures past” (6). These ghosts are first outlined in the case study of Obsidian's Fallout: New Vegas and are traced to explore the game's appropriation of musical cultures of the past. Ivănescu's theoretical framework draws on nostalgia's prevalence across music and screen media, which contextualizes nostalgia beyond video games.Nevertheless, the volume is primarily concerned with the “nostalgia video game,” a game that, in Ivănescu's definition, references the “aesthetics and generic universes of media of the past” and emphasizes “the sociopolitical undertones of the genres, styles and individual works referenced” (17). Each chapter examines a different case study of music in the nostalgia video game, from the reflections of race through the car radio in Hangar 13's Mafia III (chapter 3) to the inclusion of appropriated popular music in the dystopian future of 2K's BioShock (chapter 4).The opening chapter, “The Ghosts of Popular Music Past and Video Games Future,” explains the title of Ivănescu's book through a detailed discussion of the appropriation of music and definitions of types of nostalgia (11). The subtitle, The Way It Never Sounded, refers to the appropriation of “pre-existing” music, “recontextualised” for the purposes of nostalgia (9). Discourse surrounding the gaming industry and fan culture are included in this introduction. The reader is introduced to key arguments that define the cultural heritage of digital gaming and suggest the significance of “gamer” as an identity (13). Concepts such as Svetlana Boym's “restorative” and “reflective” nostalgia are applied to both the “nostalgia game” and “nostalgia film,” which are introduced in order to formulate a space for Ivănescu's definition of the nostalgia video game in a concise and convincing manner (15).“Games on Media: Beyond Remediation” presents a sophisticated discussion of tensions between immediacy, which “attempt[s] to disguise or erase the fact that the text is mediated,” and hypermediacy, where the “process of mediation” is emphasized (29). Ivănescu examines the possible self-reflectiveness of the hypermediated nostalgia game as it focuses on the past, becoming a space to comment on past games and player interactions. She then examines this self-reflective behavior within three separate case studies.First, Ivănescu's explanation of Shiro Games' Evoland and Evoland 2: A Slight Case of Spacetime Continuum Disorder expands the understanding of the video game canon in a humorous style. These games present a history of video games, where canonic milestones are framed as ludic achievements. As such, they are concerned with nostalgia for their own media format. Second, Rockstar Games' L.A. Noire is examined as a remediation of film, bringing with it the inevitable conversation of the rivalry between film and video games. This chapter compares film noir and Noire. It draws on film studies to navigate the game's use of both typical classical film noir tropes and nostalgia noir film identifiers (musical features used to connote film noir, even if they are not representative of historical noir film). Ivănescu highlights the prominence of jazz as an example of the latter and the use of a femme fatale character Elsa Lichtmann as an “authentic noir” experience (45–50). Ivănescu undertakes a lyrical analysis of Lichtmann's performances of songs written specifically for the game. Third, the analysis of other Rockstar-developed games, Grand Theft Auto: Vice City and Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas (GTA), provides continuity to this chapter as Ivănescu introduces the notion of using exaggerated music over authentic music to create gameworlds and soundscapes. Whereas the music of GTA has been discussed before, Ivănescu's analysis of GTA alongside Evoland and L.A. Noire complements her focus on music as an agent for self-reflection. This chapter focuses and expands on the literature review outlined in chapter 1. This chapter can sometimes feel as though it moves too quickly as Ivănescu works through substantial—and difficult—topics, such as authenticity and video game criticisms, without quite enough time to interrogate the concepts with the detail they deserve. The case studies can feel isolated until the chapter's conclusion, but by weaving in many different examples of video game music, the chapter remains easily accessible to those less comfortable with the conceptual discussion but interested in video games and video game music.Ivănescu works through the “moral panic” (75) of video games in her third chapter, “Games on Society: Playable Anxieties.” This chapter begins with an accessible introduction to the infamous debates of violence, aggression, and representations of identity in video games. To frame her discussion, Ivănescu highlights the lack of non-white protagonists in video games and comments on racial issues in Mafia III. Ivănescu analyzes the curated soundtracks and the use of popular music in two games where the player-character acts as an antihero, Mafia III and Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas. This chapter opens up further discussions about race and player empathy as she examines the use of in-game radios in Mafia III to play popular music and reflect the 1960s. Ivănescu's conclusions consider the counterculture of the 1960s (the civil rights movement, women's liberation movement, drug use, and music), which act as a reminder of what was achieved and what still needs to be done, “in video games as well as society more broadly” (88).Ivănescu then swaps focus to gender in video games and the treatment of women within video games and in the gaming industry. Fullbright's exploration game Gone Home is outlined in this section as Ivănescu offers an in-depth explanation of the female protagonist's exploration through a tense and isolated environment. Character development and empowerment is here linked to the Riot Grrrl movement, referencing social and political anxieties. Ivănescu works hard to analyze games that challenge issues of race and gender and include music that develops the game's character and strengthens player empathy. This chapter furnishes the reader with tools to discuss further issues of gender and identity in the nostalgia game. Because of the breadth of this research, Ivănescu covers substantial research questions in a short chapter, but, rather than losing focus, she lays a foundation for further study.The fourth chapter, “Temporal Anomalies: Alternative Pasts and Alternative Futures,” returns to the introductory case studies of Fallout and BioShock. Ivănescu attempts to flip the nostalgia game on its head here, looking at the music of the post-apocalyptic game series Fallout as “a warning against restorative nostalgia, against repeating mistakes of bygone days” (111). The game series offers a list of 1950s novelty songs that were used to trivialize Cold War anxieties, but Ivănescu argues that Fallout comments on the anxieties of 1950s America by playing these records within an apocalyptic environment, creating a musical juxtaposition. The chapter draws upon research from William Cheng and William Gibbons, and Ivănescu again highlights the use of in-game radios to reflect moral player choice and sympathy within the world of Fallout; the player is given a piece of technology in each Fallout game, known as the Pip-Boy, that has various roles such as providing the player with inventory and combat management, as well as functioning as a radio. The BioShock series returns as a discussion point for the nostalgia of place and time, specifically 1920s America, but within a fictional world that appropriates music for lyrical commentary. Issues of representation, satire, and propaganda return here and provide another case study whose lyrical analysis uncovers hidden anachronisms, such as BioShock Infinite's barbershop quartet cover of “God Only Knows” (132). Moral judgments, propaganda, and a fight for the listener's ear link well with the anxieties of chapter 3.The conclusion of Ivănescu's book is contained in “Memories of Mediated Pasts and Hopes for Mediated Futures.” Ivănescu now argues that the nostalgia video game does not attempt to appropriate the past but instead serve as a commentary on nostalgia and ideologies of the past. Though the book deals with some commonly discussed game music texts, such as GTA, and research topics, such as immersion, they are given a fresh outlook through Ivănescu's innovative ideas on the nostalgia game. She returns to her introductory arguments and summarizes the significance of nostalgia game soundscapes to deeper musical meaning, alongside stylistic appropriations, rehearing the past rather than remaking it. This book is a swift journey into the nostalgia video game as a place for semiotic ghosts and what that means societally, culturally, and historically. Ivănescu makes a difficult subject easy to digest, and the book is perfect for both students and academics interested in the area, providing a gateway to further musicological research on, for example, semiotic ghosts within historically informed recreations of past music.