Game audio doesn’t get enough attention. The soundtrack, sound effects, and voice acting in a game contribute more to the overall experience than most players consciously realise. Pull the audio out of a horror game and it becomes a walking simulator. Mute the soundtrack in a boss fight and it becomes a chore.

So when AI starts showing up in game audio production, it’s worth paying attention — even if the conversation is less heated than the AI art debate.

What AI audio tools actually do

There are several categories of AI audio tools now being used in game development:

Procedural music generation. Tools like AIVA, Soundraw, and newer systems from companies like Stability AI can generate background music based on parameters — mood, tempo, genre, instrumentation. The output ranges from “serviceable” to “surprisingly good,” depending on the tool and the specificity of the request.

Adaptive soundtrack systems. AI middleware can adjust music in real-time based on gameplay state — ramping intensity during combat, softening during exploration, building tension during stealth sequences. This isn’t new conceptually (games have done dynamic music for years), but AI makes it more responsive and granular.

Sound design. AI tools can generate sound effects from text descriptions, modify existing sounds to fit specific contexts, and create ambient soundscapes that react to the game environment. Some of these tools are genuinely impressive for environmental audio.

Voice synthesis. This is the most controversial application. AI can generate character dialogue from text, including emotional variation and different character voices. The quality has improved dramatically, though it still sounds slightly off in most implementations.

The Australian game audio scene

Australia has a small but talented game audio community. Composers and sound designers here work across multiple studios, often as freelancers. The music in Australian indie games is frequently cited as a highlight — games like Hollow Knight (Team Cherry’s soundtrack is legendary), Untitled Goose Game, and Cult of the Lamb all had audio that elevated the entire experience.

I spoke with three Australian game audio professionals about their experience with AI tools. The responses were mixed but thoughtful.

One Melbourne-based composer uses AI generation as a brainstorming tool. “I’ll feed it parameters for a scene and listen to what comes back. It’s not usable as-is, but it sometimes gives me ideas I wouldn’t have had otherwise. It’s like a creative sparring partner.”

A Sydney sound designer has started using AI for generating ambient soundscape layers. “For environmental audio — wind, water, distant machinery — the AI tools produce decent raw material that I then process and layer. It saves time on the tedious foundational work.”

A Brisbane-based voice director was more cautious. “AI voice synthesis is getting better, but it still can’t match a good actor’s performance. The emotional range isn’t there. For placeholder dialogue during development, it’s useful. For final production, I wouldn’t recommend it.”

The quality question

Here’s the thing about AI-generated game audio: it’s usually fine. Background music for a menu screen? Fine. Ambient forest sounds? Fine. The voice of a minor NPC giving directions? Approaching fine.

But “fine” isn’t what makes game audio memorable. Nobody hums the background music from a procedurally generated ambient track. Nobody gets chills from an AI-synthesised voice delivering a climactic line. The moments in game audio that stick with players — the ones that become iconic — are the product of human creativity, intention, and performance.

AI audio tools are good at filling space. They’re not good at creating moments. And moments are what distinguish forgettable games from unforgettable ones.

The ethics and economics

Game audio professionals are understandably concerned. Freelance rates for game composers have been under pressure for years, and AI tools that can generate “good enough” music for a fraction of the cost threaten to make that worse.

The counter-argument is that AI tools will handle the low-end work — placeholder audio, background ambience, minor NPC voices — while human professionals focus on the high-value creative work. Companies like AI consultants Melbourne are helping studios figure out which audio tasks are suitable for AI automation and which need to stay with human professionals. This is plausible, but it also means fewer total jobs. The entry-level game audio work that helped newcomers build portfolios and experience might evaporate.

For Australian audio professionals specifically, the freelance nature of much of the work makes this more precarious. A studio deciding to use AI for 50 percent of their audio needs doesn’t hire half an audio team — they might not hire any.

Where this lands

AI audio tools will become standard in game development within two to three years. They’ll be used primarily for procedural generation, ambient audio, and iterative prototyping. Human composers, sound designers, and voice actors will remain essential for the creative work that defines a game’s identity.

The studios that handle this transition well will be the ones that use AI to support their human audio teams, not replace them. A composer with AI tools is more productive than a composer without them. An AI tool without a composer produces music that nobody remembers.

The technology is impressive. The questions about how to use it responsibly are harder. Game audio professionals, especially in smaller markets like Australia, deserve to be part of that conversation.