2425: Life in the 8-Bit Era

0425_001

I’ve been on a proper nostalgia trip with my old magazines and retro machine emulation recently, so I thought I’d share some memories and factoids about growing up in a household filled with home computers rather than games consoles.

This post was inspired by a conversation with my friend Chris earlier today, who noted that it’s an area of gaming history that he’s not as familiar with as the consoles of the time.

I’m writing this from the perspective of someone who grew up with the Atari 8-Bit range of home computers. Your experiences may vary if you were a Commodore 64 or Spectrum child!

The early machines were massive

The Atari 400 and 800, the first models of home computer released by Atari, were absolute behemoths — the size and weight of a typewriter. The reason for this was that due to FCC regulations regarding signal leakage protection, their innards had to be encased in solid aluminium.

This is the Atari 400.

SONY DSC

And this is the Atari 800.

atari_800_closed

There were a few differences between the two. The 400 was originally set to ship with 4K RAM and the 800 with 8K, but by the time they hit the market, the price of RAM had already come down enough to outfit them both with 8K. The 800, which had expandable memory, eventually underwent numerous upgrades to end up with a then-massive 48K of RAM.

The 400 had a horrible membrane keyboard (which many users, including our family, replaced with mechanical keys) while the 800 had mechanical keys as standard. Both featured a then-revolutionary bit of kit called Serial Input/Output or SIO, which could be regarded as a modern precursor to USB in that it allowed the connection of multiple, automatically configuring devices to the computer. It was mostly use to connect tape decks and disk drives.

The later machines were smaller and looked a bit nicer

Here’s the 64K 800XL, probably the most direct competitor to the Commodore 64:

1920px-atari-800xl

And the 128KB 130XE, whose extra power went largely unused due to it coming out pretty late in the 8-Bit life cycle; its resemblance to the 16-bit Atari ST is no coincidence.

1920px-atari-130xe

(Here’s the ST, for comparison’s sake:)

1920px-atari_1040stf

Early games came on cartridge

Part of the thinking behind the early systems was that they should be as user-friendly as possible. With that in mind, the very simplest method of getting a program up and running on the 400 and 800 — and indeed all subsequent Atari 8-Bits — was to plug in a ROM cartridge, turn on the power and enjoy the instantaneous load times of the format.

Many of the 8-Bit’s earliest and most well-regarded games — most notably the excellent Star Raiders, one of the first 3D space sims, and still a great game today — came on cartridge, but eventually games got big enough that they needed to be distributed on cassette tape or 5.25″ floppy disk instead.

The 400 and 800 had four joystick ports

…but very few games used them. However, one of the very best games on the system, Electronic Arts’ highly competitive strategy game M.U.L.E., allowed for four players simultaneously. Later versions of the Atari 8-bit only had two joystick ports, so true four-player titles remained rare.

Programming for the Atari and other 8-Bit machines was a big British industry

A lot of the software companies that are doing proud business today — Eutechnyx (formerly Zeppelin Games), Rare (formerly Ultimate Play the Game), Codemasters (still Codemasters) and Electronic Arts began their lives in the 8-bit era, and many of them (all of the above except EA, among others) started in Britain.

The 8-Bit era saw the birth of what we would now call the indie games industry. Single programmers or small teams of friends would assemble games in school holidays or during free time and release them on cassette at budget prices. Many would go on to become hugely popular. And many of them chose to create extremely creative titles rather than lazy copycat clones of arcade shoot ’em ups — though make no mistake, there were plenty of lazy clones around, too.

The reason why so many people got into programming on their Atari is that when you booted it up you were straight into Atari BASIC and could start writing code straight away. Granted, BASIC wasn’t the speediest language in the world, but learning it formed a great foundation for discovering more complex languages.

Loading from tape took ages

This can’t be overstated. It’s a well-known fact that loading a game from cassette took a long time, but really. It took a long time. In the case of the Atari, you’d have to ensure the system going “BURRRRRRRRR, BURRRRRRRRRR!!” over and over while the data loaded from the cassette.

Loading from disk made a great noise

One thing I really miss from the original 8-Bit days when using an emulator is the sound that loading things from disk made. There was this weird farting sound when the machine started up, then loading combined the whirring snark of the drive’s mechanisms with a weird “BLBLBLBLBLBLBLBLBL” noise, punctuated by zurbits from the drive. I was always a bit disappointed when developers poked the appropriate memory location to make loading quieter. (And yes, “poke” actually is the technical term.)

And of course someone’s made a YouTube video featuring that noise. It’s number 4 in this video:

Magazines were a key part of the ownership experience

Getting copies of Analog, Antic, Atari User and Page 6 each month meant that we were never short of toilet reading material. And as I noted yesterday, the articles you got in these old mags ran the gamut from in-depth technical explorations of the systems themselves (and how to harness that technology) to the sort of game reviews we’re familiar with today.

The Atari sound chip was awesome

Commodore’s SID chip gets all the love these days, but Atari’s POKEY was no slouch either. Here’s a selection of fine tunes from renowned composer Adam Gilmore.

Piracy was rife

It’s a wonder we didn’t kill the fledgling games industry completely in the ’80s, since very few people seemed to purchase original games; I know it was certainly a rare treat in our household.

Instead, bootleg cassette tapes and floppy disks did the rounds in the schoolyard, at workplaces and even at gatherings specifically for people to swap dodgy copies of the latest goodness. I was too young to attend at the time, but I remember my father and brother attending a local “computer club”, which was the source of most of the boxes full of floppy disks I still own today.

Interesting, for the pirates themselves, piracy was less about getting something for free and instead all about proving their worth. “Cracked” games often came with elaborate introduction sequences (typically including some great chiptune music) and made use of advanced compression technologies to fit multiple games on a single floppy disk. Today, retro enthusiasts are as keen to preserve cracked versions of games as they are originals.

The systems weren’t as powerful as consoles, but they tried hard

Being general-purpose computers rather than dedicated games machines, the Atari 8-Bit range struggled to keep pace with the specialist machines from Sega and Nintendo, but that didn’t mean developers would rest on their laurels. Particularly late in the 8-Bit’s lifespan, developers were squeezing every possible ounce of graphical power they could out of the little machine’s chips, and the results could be both impressive and heavily stylized. Check out Lucasfilm’s games in particular, which featured full 3D fractal landscapes and detailed sprites.

Here’s strange action adventure The Eidolon, in which you travelled through time, fought mushrooms and battled rather arrogant-looking dragons:

eidolon_4

Here’s wonderful flight sim/first-person Defender-alike Rescue on Fractalus, surprisingly one of the most terrifying games in existence for reasons I’ll leave you to discover if you ever play it:

$rescue_on_fractalus_atari_us_8$

And here’s the rather strange (but impressive) Koronis Rift:

koronis_6

I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say that the 8-Bit era was probably one of my favourite times to be into computers. It was exciting, it was accessible and it felt like these machines could do anything; there was none of the cynicism or taking things for granted that we have today.

Oh to go back, eh.

2420: Gaming History and Archiving

0420_001

At the time of writing, the copy of Launchbox on my computer is loaded with over 16,000 games across a number of different platforms ranging from the early days of computing right up until (relatively) recently with some PlayStation 1 titles.

I can happily lose several hours going back through some of these games — particularly those which I used to enjoy when I was young, and which I am now better equipped to fully understand. The advent of the Internet also means that any games which are somewhat obtuse or abstract can be researched easily, which is something we simply didn’t have access to back in the ’80s and early ’90s — many of the games we had on home computer platforms in particular were copies of questionable origin and consequently didn’t have any instructions included, and as such you had to either figure out how to do things yourself or already know how the game worked.

Games were often simpler back then, of course, although there are plenty of examples of titles that pushed their hardware to the limits in an attempt to simulate something with a reasonable degree of accuracy — Sublogic’s Flight Simulator II on the Atari 8-bit springs to mind, as does MicroProse’s submarine simulation Silent Service on the same platform. Even among the simpler titles, though, there are plenty of games whose abstract goals aren’t necessarily very clear, or there might be a few hidden controls on the keyboard the game doesn’t explicitly tell you about — we were in the age of both “joysticks with one button” and “games without tutorials” at this point, remember.

Playing these old games always gets me to thinking, though. While there are a number of websites out there cataloguing and in some cases even hosting dumps of these old games, is anyone doing anything more than saying “this game came out in 19xx, it was released on [platforms]?” Is anyone approaching the subject with a bit more of an eye to historical interpretation, rather than just plain cataloguing and archiving?

Some people out there probably are already, but I feel like it’s time I added my unique perspective to the mix. I feel like this every time I have a conversation with someone where I have the opportunity to bring up games like Star Raiders II and Final Legacy. I want to do something about it.

I’m currently determining the best way to go about it, but I’m very interested in the idea of some sort of project to highlight and explore noteworthy games from history — particularly those on more (relatively) obscure platforms such as the Atari 8-bit and ST. Whether this takes the form of a website, a book (or several books), a series of videos or all of the above is something I haven’t quite determined yet, but while I have some time on my hands it would be something for me to sink my teeth into and keep me occupied, much like MoeGamer has been.

I have some thinking to do, it seems!

2358: I Whip My Hair Back and Forth

0358_001

Shantae is a series I’ve been meaning to explore for a long time. Specifically, ever since I reviewed the iOS version of second game Risky’s Revenge a few years ago and was absolutely enamoured by the graphics and overall presentation before being almost immediately put off entirely by the atrocious controls, proving once again that you should never, ever make traditional console-style games for platforms whose only input method is a touchscreen.

As part of the retro gaming and emulation kick I’ve been on recently, I decided I’d check out the Shantae series from the beginning, starting with its Game Boy Color incarnation. Shantae, as the first game is simply called, is widely regarded as one of the most impressive titles to be released on the GBC, as well as being a great game and the start to a marvellous series in its own right.

The eponymous Shantae is a half-genie girl who is the self-appointed protector of fishing village Scuttle Town. One morning, the voluptuous pirate Risky Boots shows up, bombards the town with cannon fire and then makes off with a Steam Engine, a new invention from local crackpot Mimic based on blueprints he found on an archaeological expedition. Frustrated with herself that she was unable to stop Risky’s attack, Shantae pledges to try and get one step ahead of the pirate and find out what she’s really up to, and thus begins your standard video game quest of “find the shiny doohickeys before the bad guy does”.

In terms of gameplay, Shantae is a fairly simple Metroidvania-esque platformer in that it isn’t really divided into discrete levels. Instead, there’s an overworld which wraps around on itself, meaning you can start walking in one direction and eventually end up back where you started, and a number of small caves and larger “labyrinths” that can be accessed. There are also five towns that act as waypoints; completing a sidequest where you collect “Warp Squids” enables you to teleport back to that town at any point; the towns also each house various facilities such as shops and minigames.

Shantae definitely plays extremely well, with responsive controls and well-designed, well-paced maps that are challenging but rarely cheap, the odd “leap of faith” aside. As you progress through her quest, you unlock various transformation abilities, each of which are used by playing a rhythm-based minigame and pressing particular combinations of buttons in time with the music for Shantae to make use of her considerable (and frighteningly erotic) bellydancing skills. These transformations, in true Metroidvania tradition, enable you to reach otherwise inaccessible areas through various means: the Monkey form, for instance, can climb walls, while the Harpy form can fly.

While the gameplay is solid, where Shantae’s main appeal lies is in its presentation. Although limited by the low resolution and limited colour palette of the Game Boy Color, Shantae is a gorgeous-looking game, with attractive, atmospheric backdrops and excellent sprite work. The star of the show is, appropriately enough, Shantae herself, who is animated with an amazing degree of fluidity and personality — and unlike previous games which had particularly fluid animation, such as Prince of Persia and Flashback, Shantae doesn’t sacrifice responsiveness for smooth animation.

Shantae’s visual appeal comes from the sheer range of animations she’s been programmed with. Rather than simply being built with traversal animations in mind — walking, running, jumping, falling — Shantae has plenty of unique animations only seen in certain situations. There are the dance animations, for starters, one of which can be found on every direction on the Game Boy D-Pad and its two action buttons. When using these for gameplay purposes, you only see them for a brief moment, but they’re so visually compelling that it’s more than a little tempting to just switch into Dance mode by tapping Select and admiring Shantae’s moves for a few minutes before continuing on your quest. On top of this, Shantae has a number of “mood” animations used during dialogue sequences that give her a great deal of visual character, and her personality is backed up by some snappy, witty but brief dialogue that gives you the important information you need to proceed while keeping things light and breezy in tone.

So far I’ve cleared the first “Labyrinth”, which was a delightful delve into a well-designed dungeon with some interesting, creative puzzles involving memory, precision jumping and carefully exploring the environment. I’m looking forward to seeing what the rest of the game has to offer — and beyond that, finally playing Risky’s Revenge on a platform that can do it justice, followed by its sequel Shantae and the Pirate’s Curse.

2356: Packing a LaunchBox

0356_001

I’m a big fan of emulating old systems. There’s no substitute for playing on original hardware and having original packaging, of course, but emulation is a relatively straightforward and cost-effective means of enjoying older games without having to brave eBay, thrift stores or exorbitant “collector’s” prices.

The legality of emulation is something that has been discussed to death online, so I will sidestep that particular issue for the moment and instead bring your attention to a wonderful tool I’ve started using recently.

One of the biggest pains with emulation of older systems, particularly if you have a lot of ROM files, is managing and organising all these files, and indeed even knowing what you have available to play. This is a particular issue with old computers, whose disk images tend to contain multiple titles much like the pirated disks “computer clubs” would exchange freely in the ’80s and ’90s, but given the sheer number of games that have been released for various console platforms over the years, it can be an issue finding what you’re looking for even on systems that use media that only contains a single title.

Enter LaunchBox, then, a thoroughly pleasant and well put together front-end for all your emulation… well, no, all your PC-based gaming needs, with a particular emphasis on the emulation of old platforms and operating systems.

Launchbox is, at its heart, a database designed to be filled with records of games with related media files — including ROMs and disk images — attached. It organises software by platform and allows the automatic launching of a particular emulator when selecting a game.

Perhaps its best feature, though, is its online connectivity, which allows it to connect to various online services, including its own online database, Wikipedia and Emumovies, and download all manner of supporting media for each game, where available. This supporting media ranges from simple box art and PDFs of the original manuals to music, movies and fanart of the games. By importing all your ROM files into LaunchBox, you can quickly and easily build up a full gaming database and automatically populate it with relevant information about pretty much any game you’d care to name; any game that doesn’t get automatically populated with information can either be corrected yourself or manually searched in case it was stored online under different details.

This makes LaunchBox an excellent resource both for organising your collection and learning about titles you might not be familiar with — particularly those from other territories. The brief blurb LaunchBox provides for supported titles gives a good synopsis of what the game is all about and what to expect from it, and from there it’s a simple matter to double-click the game in your collection and be playing it in a suitable emulator almost immediately. LaunchBox even recommends and provides download links to emulators for the most popular platforms and can automatically set them up for you; it also comes bundled with the wonderful DOSBox, which enables you to play old DOS-based games on modern Windows computers.

While I’d still prefer to have a wall full of original packaging and games playable on their original systems, that’s not an especially cost-effective thing for me to do right now. So LaunchBox is very much scratching my “collector’s” itch until I’m in a position to put together an actual physical collection. And in the meantime, it’s turned my PC into pretty much the ultimate games console ever.

2276: Video Computer System

0276_001

As I wrote in a few posts recently, I’ve been checking out the new Atari Vault compilation on Steam. Rather than talking about a specific game today, I wanted to talk a little bit about the value of the compilation as a whole, and why I’m enjoying exploring it.

Atari Vault is a compilation of somewhere in the region of 100 Atari games from the ’80s. The bulk of the compilation consists of VCS 2600 games, but there are some arcade games in there too, including the likes of Crystal Castles, Missile Command, Major Havoc and Liberator.

I’ve owned a number of previous similar compilations in the past, and have typically gravitated towards the arcade games, since they seem more “palatable” from a modern perspective than the extremely primitive-looking 2600 games. I recall growing up with the Atari 8-bit home computers, and in comparison to those, 2600 games looked primitive even back at that time when it was relatively current, and as such, I’ve always found them a little offputting. I’ve made a specific effort to explore them a bit more this time around, though, and I’ve been pleased to discover some really interesting games.

Take Haunted House, for example. This is a fairly straightforward top-down “find all the things” game with an intriguing twist: you’re in the dark. With your character represented as nothing more than a pair of eyes, you navigate around by either bumping into walls or lighting matches to illuminate the area immediately around you. A single game of Haunted House requires that you find all the pieces of a… thing… an urn? And you have to do so while using as few matches as possible and losing as few lives as possible, for this being a haunted house, it has a number of unpleasant beasties lurking around just waiting to nibble on you.

Or take Save Mary, a prototype game that never saw commercial release, but which presented an interesting twist on vaguely Tetris-ish block puzzles. The eponymous Mary is trapped at the bottom of a pit which is slowly filling with water. You control a crane and have to drop blocks into the well for Mary to climb up. You need to get her high enough to be able to grab her with the crane and save her. Once you’ve done this, you have to do it again, only with significantly more awkward-shaped blocks. The peculiar variation on the typical block puzzle formula is the fact that Mary has a mind of her own (albeit a predictable one) and you have to be careful not to squish her with the blocks you drop as she wanders back and forth trying to get to high ground.

Or how about Atari Video Cube, a really simple but surprisingly compelling puzzle game loosely based on Rubik’s Cube? Controlling a weird little man (who has a name and a backstory and everything, though I can’t remember it offhand), it’s your job to pick up coloured squares from each of the 3×3 faces of the cube and lay them down so that each side is a solid colour. To make this more difficult, to pick up a coloured tile, you have to swap it with the one you’re holding, and to make it even more difficult, you can’t walk through tiles that are the same colour as the tile you’re holding, even if they’re on a different face of the cube.

The 2600 back catalogue appears to be filled with these sorts of interesting little games that we’d probably find laughable if released as full-scale, full-price commercial releases today, but as part of this compilation, they provide a surprising amount of entertainment value — and, in some cases, represent types of games that are very much deserving of a modern remake.

My only issue with them from a modern viewpoint is the fact that 2600 games tend to end rather abruptly, regardless of whether you “win” or “lose”, and this can sometimes make victories over a particularly difficult level feel a bit less than satisfying. Still, this was from an age where gaming was quite a social pursuit — many of the 2600 games are very much designed to be played together with a partner — and so, I feel, a key part of the fun back then must have been making your own fun with the games to a certain extent; similar to how a tabletop game doesn’t automatically set off fireworks as soon as you win, neither does a 2600 game. The celebrations and victory rewards are entirely up to you; I recommend betting each other a slice of pizza or a big lump of cake on a game of Combat and see how much you like each other by the end of the evening!

2260: Have You Played Liberator Today?

0260_001

I like retro compilations, not just for the ability to play games from my youth on modern hardware, but also to discover some classics that, for whatever reason, I missed out on when they were first released.

Such has been the case after just a few minutes with Atari Vault, a new release on Steam that packages together about a hundred Atari 2600 and arcade games from the late ’70s and early ’80s — including a few previously unreleased prototypes, which is kinda cool.

One such discovery I made today was an interesting (and surprisingly impressive for the time) game called Liberator, a quasi-sequel to Missile Command that flipped the concept of the original Cold War-inspired game on its head by putting you in the role of the aggressors, attacking enemy bases on planets in order to liberate the population from the villains.

Liberator, I’ve discovered, was quite a rare game even on its original release, which might explain why I’ve never come across it before. According to Gaming History, the original arcade machine sold for a whopping $2,000 and did not prove particularly popular, with only somewhere in the region of 760 cabinets actually being made — all this despite it being a game absolutely made for cross-promotion with Atari’s “Atari Force” comic series. The curse of old-school Atari constantly and consistently failing at marketing strikes once again, I guess.

Anyway. The game plays quite a bit like Missile Command in that it’s a somewhat different take on the shoot ’em up. Rather than firing directly at things, you fire at a crosshair on screen, and your missiles detonate when they reach the point you fired at. Thus, to destroy things, you have to cause explosions at locations where the enemies will be when your missiles arrive — usually meaning you have to fire ahead of them carefully, anticipating their movements.

Much like Missile Command, you can fire from several different places on screen, and these missile launchers — here depicted as starships orbiting an enemy planet — can be independently destroyed, acting as your “lives” for the game session. The game, then, becomes a matter of balancing your offense on the planet surface, which requires you to destroy enemy missile bases on the rotating globe ahead of you, and defending yourself against incoming missiles and other attacks. Not every attack is guaranteed to hit you, either, so you also need to spot which things you need to prioritise destroying and which you can safely ignore.

It’s an interesting game; very simple, but undoubtedly addictive in the same way that Missile Command is. It’s a good-looking game for the time period (1982), as well, with some decent pixel art for “Commander Champion”, who briefs you on your mission, and a well-done 3D rotating globe effect for the planets you’re orbiting. Sound effects, meanwhile, are the same bleeps, burbles and booms from Missile Command — nothing special, but certainly iconic of this particular period in gaming.

There’s a lot more to explore in Atari Vault, but I anticipate that Liberator will be one I keep coming back to!

#oneaday Day 822: Xoom, Xoom, Xoom, Xoom, I Want You In My Room

I’ve been spending quite a lot of time with my shiny (well, rather fingerprinty now) new Motorola Xoom since it arrived the other day, and I have to say I’m a big fan. While Android seems to be a little more clunky than iOS, particularly prone to slowing down for no apparent reason on occasion, I’m appreciating the things it does do. Having a fully-customisable homescreen is very pleasant, certainly, and the cool quasi-3D effect it does with the wallpaper is pretty neat.

What’s becoming abundantly clear to me as I continue to use it, however, is that using it simply feels very different to the iPad. It might be the fact it’s designed to be used in landscape as opposed to the iPad’s default portrait orientation; it might be the unique array of apps on offer on both devices; it might be a combination of interface elements. I’m not sure exactly what it is, but I can say that both devices certainly have a place in my life at this moment for different reasons — and also that getting the Xoom has caused my desire for a 3rd-gen iPad to drop to zero.

If anything, the Xoom seems particularly suited for more “serious” tasks (and by “serious” I mean “not games”) — I’m particularly fond of using it for Twitter, chat, email and that sort of thing. Google Currents has become my go-to app for reading the daily news. The built-in “share” functionality, which allows you to easily send stuff from one app to another easily, is pretty neat. The keyboard I have installed, which lets you type by drawing wiggly lines rather than tapping keys, makes me feel like a wizard, particularly with the sparkly particle pattern that comes from aforementioned wiggly pattern. And the inclusion of a USB port (albeit a micro-USB one that requires an adapter for pretty much every peripheral ever, making one wonder exactly why they didn’t just put a regular USB port on it) means that it’s possible to do things like hook up a keyboard and practically use the damn thing as a sort of laptop.

A big draw for me was the thriving emulation scene on Android, however. Within a few short moments of getting the device up and running I had downloaded NES, SNES, Mega Drive and arcade machine emulators and a few minutes later had successfully transferred my collection of ROM files of dubious origin. What I have now is a portable gaming device that plays pretty much any NES, SNES or Mega Drive game, and a whole heap of arcade games.

This… is awesome. I hadn’t anticipated quite how awesome this was going to be, but the ability to play Final Fantasy VI while on an exercise bike at the gym, or Elevator Action while on the toilet, or Golden Axe while waiting for the kettle to boil… well… yes. It’s awesome. The fact you can hook up a USB controller (or, for that matter, Wii Remote with Classic Controller via Bluetooth) and play these games as they were meant to be played — with actual buttons rather than floaty, crappy touchscreen controls — is a happy bonus. The fact you can use floaty, crappy touchscreen controls at times when having a controller is not convenient or socially acceptable is also most welcome.

I’m certainly not going to become one of those gits who bangs on about how much better Android is than iOS because there are things that both do far, far better than the other. But I’ve been very pleasantly surprised by my first experience with an Android device, and the fact it’s turned out to be a portable retro-gaming powerhouse is just a happy bonus, really. Now I can finally get around to beating all the Final Fantasy games that are still on my “to-do” list. (V and VI, as it happens. Also Chrono Trigger, which may as well be a Final Fantasy game.) And, as previously mentioned, playing Elevator Action on the toilet.

Now, if you’ll excuse me…