1948: Five of My Favourite Music Games

I’ve been a fan of music-based “rhythm action” games ever since they started being a thing around the time of the PS1 era, and while there aren’t anywhere near as many around these days as there were in their heyday, there are still some great ones out there. And, of course, those old games are, in most cases, just as playable today, so long as you can deal with some dated graphics!

Without further ado, then, here are five* of my favourites.

Bust-A-Groove

I can’t quite remember if this was my first ever encounter with rhythm action, but it was certainly one of my favourite games of the PS1 era. It’s also the sort of game that would probably never see a retail release these days: it’d be much more likely to be a £15-20 downloadable game. (In fact, why isn’t it downloadable on PSN? Get on that, Sony!)

Bust-A-Groove was an unusual and creative title that took the overall aesthetic of a one-on-one fighter and transplanted the hot versus action into the context of a dancing competition. Each song was based on four-beat bars, and in each bar you’d have to make sure you hit one of the face buttons on the PlayStation controller on the fourth beat. As you built up combos, you were given more and more directional inputs to squeeze in before that all-important fourth beat, but these didn’t need to be in time. You were usually pressing O or X on the fourth beat, but pressing Triangle would allow you to use one of your character’s special attacks (limited in the number of times you could use them per stage) and pressing Square would allow you to dodge an incoming special attack from the previous bar; failure to do so would put you out of action for a few bars and allow your opponent to get ahead.

Bust-A-Groove wasn’t perfect, particularly in two-player mode, where two equally matched players tended to reach a stalemate due to the way the game’s scoring worked. But as a single-player rhythm action game in particular, it’s still hard to beat — and it had some of the most memorable songs of any game I’ve ever played.

Frequency/Amplitude

I always get Frequency and Amplitude mixed up — one was the sequel to the other — so I’ll cop out and put them both in here, since they were fairly similar to one another, as I recall.

Frequency and Amplitude were early titles from Harmonix, who would go on to create the Rock Band series. And it’s clear where the inspiration for those later, more popular titles came from: Frequency and Amplitude had the “note highways” almost as we recognise them today, but with a twist: you were playing all the parts on your controller.

This wasn’t as ridiculous as it sounds; what you’d do is pick a “track” (as in, part of a song, not a whole album track or something) and bang out a decent combo on it. After a short period, that track would “lock” in place and continue playing, allowing you to move on to another one and gradually build up the texture of the music, effectively creating a dynamic remix as you played. Perform well enough and you’d be able to get all the parts going together; perform badly and it would sound like a teenage wannabe rock group attempting to perform a piece far too ambitious for them one lunchtime at school.

Space Channel 5 Parts 1 and 2

Yes, I know that’s two games, making my “five” rather dishonest (particularly after including both Frequency and Amplitude), but really, Space Channel 5 deserves to be considered as a complete… thing. Because it’s quite something.

I’ve often described Space Channel 5 as “the gayest game ever” (the second-gayest game ever being Final Fantasy X-2) and I stand by that sentiment. Gloriously, unabashedly cheesy and camp as fuck with a kitschy ’60s sci-fi aesthetic, Space Channel 5 sees the leggy pink-haired beauty Ulala strutting her way to fending off an alien invasion and eventually saving the galaxy from the machinations of an evil villain.

Space Channel 5’s gameplay is extremely simple, essentially boiling down to a game of rhythmic Simon Says. Flowing pretty much seamlessly from cutscene to gameplay, Ulala would be confronted with some sort of sticky situation to resolve, and would have to do so by copying the moves of whatever dastardly (or, in many cases, not-so-dastardly) foe she’s facing this time. The twist on the usual Simon Says formula is that you have to do it in rhythm as your “partner” did it, too, and there are some seriously challenging rhythms to deal with. Once you learn it, though, you should be able to rattle through the whole game in about twenty minutes or so, but it’s very replayable, much like an entertaining short movie. Space Channel 5 Part 2 also comes with a sort of “challenge mode” alongside the main story, and that’s a lot tougher.

Space Channel 5 Part 2 is also noteworthy for featuring a bizarre cameo from a low-polygon depiction of the late Michael Jackson… sorry, “Space Michael”.

Elite Beat Agents

Elite Beat Agents is one of the best games on the Nintendo DS, and, surprisingly, one of the most effective examples of storytelling I’ve ever seen.

The titular Agents are tasked with jetting off around the world to save people from various mishaps, and they do so by dancing at them. Exactly how this solves the problem is anyone’s guess, but it seems to work, even going so far as to fend off an alien invasion accompanied by Jumpin’ Jack Flash in the wonderful finale.

The game uses licensed tracks (albeit cover versions in most cases) to complement the on-screen action and help tell their stories, and there’s at least one instance where the combination of music, subject matter and events in the story are genuinely emotional. You know the one if you’ve played it. (Also, it’s in the video above.)

But aside from all this, Elite Beat Agents is a strong rhythm game that makes excellent use of the DS’ touchscreen and stylus — and is a challenge and a half even for the most seasoned rhythm game pro, to boot. It’s just a pity we never saw the sequel over here.

Hatsune Miku: Project Diva f

I include Project Diva f (and its PS3 counterpart F, though I greatly prefer playing on Vita) on this list rather than its (apparently superior) sequel largely because I haven’t played said sequel. Project Diva f is a great game in its own right, however, and made me all sorts of happy the first time I played it, largely because it reminded me of the old PS1-era games.

It’s no Bust-A-Groove, though; no regular beats for you here. Instead, you’re expected to play Project Diva f’s levels like a percussion instrument. Depending on the piece in question, you might be accompanying the vocals, lead guitar and synth, rhythm section or even playing some completely different counter-rhythms that complement the main bulk of the music. The lower difficulties are deceptively easy; the higher difficulties are as challenging as playing an actual instrument.

It’s satisfying though. Pulling off a “Perfect” score on a difficult level is a wonderful feeling, and it’s something that will only come with practice — remember that, when games didn’t hand victory to you on a plate? Yes, in order to get good at Project Diva f you’re going to have to do more than just try each song once or twice; you’re going to have to actually learn them, so that eventually you don’t even need to look at the incoming note patterns, you can just perform them. When you reach that stage, then you’re a true Miku master.

Senran Kagura: Bon Appetit!

I won’t lie, I’ve lost count now, but I’m pretty sure we’re not doing “five” any more. Oh well.

Senran Kagura: Bon Appetit! is a game in which the ninja girls of Senran Kagura take time off from fighting each other and worrying about youma to indulge themselves in a cooking competition organised by pervy old ninja master Hanzo, who apparently wants nothing more than to watch his granddaughter and her friends literally cook each other’s clothes off in an attempt to secure a Super-Secret Ninja Art Scroll that will grant one wish.

It is as ridiculous as it sounds, but there’s actually a really solid, fun — albeit simple and straightforward — rhythm game underneath, with some wonderful pieces of original music; for those less familiar with Senran Kagura, it has consistently great soundtracks, and Bon Appetit! is no exception; good job for a music game, huh?

Not only that, but the game actually makes an effort to put all this ridiculousness in context with story sequences just like those in the mainline Senran Kagura games. It does take great pains to point out that you probably shouldn’t take Bon Appetit! too seriously or expect it to be acknowledged in the “canonical” Senran Kagura narrative, but it’s more than just a generic rhythm game with the Senran Kagura characters hastily slapped atop it.

It’s lewd as fuck, though; if you thought the clothes-ripping action of the main games was a touch on the suggestive side, you’ve not experienced anything until you’ve seen the cast posing provocatively and naked atop various delicious-looking desserts. But that is what Senran Kagura does, and by golly, we love it for it.

Love Live! School Idol Festival

The most recent addition to this list (which I’ve been keeping in my head prior to this post), Love Live! School Idol Festival is one of a few games that have got me playing games on my phone again for the first time in ages.

The basic rhythm gameplay of School Idol Festival is solid, and designed well for touchscreens — the icons you have to tap are all arranged in an inverted arc across the screen, making it easy to hit them all with your thumbs even when holding on to your phone. The songs are a lot of fun, too, capturing a lot of the energy of the show — and, of course, making use of some of the show’s most well-known and loved songs.

But arguably the more interesting thing about School Idol Festival — and the thing that keeps players coming back to it day after day — is its comprehensive metagame. At its core, it’s a fairly standard Japanese style collectible card game — collect cards of varying rarity, sacrifice cards you don’t need to level up cards you do need, increase the rarity of cards and assemble a powerful team — but the attachment to Love Live! makes it very endearing, and the game even goes so far as to include fully-voiced (in Japanese) visual novel-style story sequences as you make progress. The metagame also affects your performance; better cards will allow you to obtain better scores, and different cards have different “skills” that trigger over the course of a song and provide you with bonuses or other benefits.

You’ll obviously get the most out of School Idol Festival if you’re already familiar with Love Live!, but even if you’re not, it’s a solid rhythm game in its own right — so long as you like super-happy, cheerful, saccharine-sweet J-idol music. And I’m not sure I trust anyone who says they don’t!

Okay, okay, I’m done. Whatever.

* Hah.

Ode to Game Music 2: The Art of the Final Boss

This is going to be a somewhat self-indulgent (and lengthy) gush on one of my favourite topics to do with video games in general, and with their music in particular. But I promise that I won’t mention One Winged Angel at all in this post after this paragraph as I’m sure most people who are familiar with that of which I speak below will be overly familiar with this track already.

Oh, and if you’re reading this on Facebook come and read this on my proper page. It has streaming audio and everything.

Everyone ready? Let’s begin.

So, the final boss confrontation. To me, this can make or break a game. I remember learning very early on at school both when writing essays and preparing for performances that “people remember the beginnings and the ends of things more than anything else”. And it’s true. For me, by far the most memorable parts of many games are the very beginning and the very end. Sure, if the middle is interesting, compelling and/or fun I’ll be more inclined to make it from the beginning to the end, but I’ll be even more inclined to remember a game fondly if its finale is aurally spectacular. Conversely, if a final battle is somewhat underwhelming in terms of presentation, I’ll be less inclined to think of it favourably.

Take Diablo II, for example – I think most people agree that Diablo is a fantastic game, but for me that final battle with Diablo was utterly underwhelming, and it was the music that killed it completely. Or rather, it was the lack of the music that killed it completely. Diablo has an eerie, ethereal sort of soundtrack that doesn’t have much in the way of memorable tunes. Sure, it’s atmospheric and sure, its production values are higher than for many games (it is a Blizzard title after all) but dammit if I didn’t want something a bit more dramatic for battling the most evil thing in the history of ever!

So it is with this in mind that I want to share with you some of my favourite final boss confrontation soundtracks. The overdramatic climactic music may be something of a cliché to many people but I can’t get enough of it. If it involves “scary choirs”, a phrase a similarly-inclined friend and I coined a while back to describe the chorus in One Wi… I mean that song at the end of Final Fantasy VII… so much the better.

These are presented in no particular order, I should probably say. And if you have any similar examples, please feel free to share them in the comments.

Final Fantasy I (Origins Version): Last Battle (Nobuo Uematsu)

Start as you mean to go on, with a bit of Uematsu. While he is probably one of the first composers that people get interested in when they start looking into video game music, his “mainstream” (for want of a better word) doesn’t mean that his music isn’t worth looking at. On the contrary, in fact – the Final Fantasy series has typically had spectacular finales and a huge amount of this can be attributed to the music.

This piece is from the remake of Final Fantasy I for the PS1. If you’re unfamiliar with the first FF, the battle system consists of your party members standing on one side of the screen wafting their weapons around at a monster or monsters on the other side of the screen. There’s very little apparent physical interaction between them, and said monsters don’t animate at all.

That didn’t stop this piece of music making the final battle with Chaos (incidentally, just how many unimaginative RPG designers have used something as generic as “Chaos” for their final bosses since FFI?) super-dramatic and exciting.

This piece takes in all the JRPG finale clichés. Pipe organ? Check. Tinkly piano breaks? Check. Loosely based on the game’s main battle theme? Check. But I still love it.

Final Fantasy II (Origins Version): Battle Scene 2 (Nobuo Uematsu)

I’ll say now that I’m getting all the FF music out of the way first so those who think it’s been done to death (which, to be fair, it probably has) can happily skip to the later tracks.

Who’s still here? Oh good. This theme is from battling the Emperor at the close of Final Fantasy II, one of the less well-known FF games because many people hate, loathe and despise it with a passion. Me? I enjoyed it, and this music, while simple, was pleasant to experience at finale time.

The interesting thing (well, to me anyway) about this one is that the main motif of the theme also made a reappearance in the final confrontation of Final Fantasy IV when battling Zeromus. This also happened a couple of other times, with the chord sequence for Exdeath’s (still a dumb name) theme in Final Fantasy V bearing more than a passing resemblance to Sephiroth’s theme in Final Fantasy VII.

Talking of which…

Final Fantasy VII (Nobuo Uematsu)

I have two tracks to share for this one for the reason that it does one of the things I love best in a good final confrontation soundtrack – it takes one of the earlier themes in the game and expands on it. The next few tracks in this post revolve around this kind of idea.

So this track (Those Chosen by the Planet)…

…becomes this track (The Birth of a God).

Eventually, anyway. Give it time. At about 1:25 in, we get that Sephiroth theme coming back to kick some ass. I remember the first time I heard this it was one of those moments where you get an involuntary shiver down your spine. I know for a fact this doesn’t happen to anyone, but this one particular musical technique at work here – using a simple motif from an earlier piece of music in a completely different one, particularly if they are of markedly different styles – always has that effect on me, particularly if it’s used at a dramatic moment.

Then, of course, after this track, you get that other one that I’m not mentioning.

Neverwinter Nights: Hordes of the Underdark (Jeremy Soule)

Mr Soule is very fond of the technique I mention above, as is clearly demonstrated by both his work on Neverwinter Nights and Dungeon Siege (up next). The moody, creepy opening track from Hordes of the Underdark (which, so far as I’m aware at least, has no title other than “x2_title”) sets the scene for a descent into darkness with faint undertones of potential heroism ahead:

Slog your way through to the end of the game through its many traps, challenges and monsters and, musically, you end up almost right back where you started, but in a slightly different key at a slightly faster tempo with more screechy strings and clangy percussion:

There’s even some pipe organ in there. Well done that man.

Dungeon Siege (Jeremy Soule)

Dungeon Siege as a game was, to many people, a relatively forgettable action-RPG. It wasn’t by any stretch of the imagination bad, but most people seemed to think it was a fairly unremarkable game still riding the remnants of the Diablo II wave. Still, I remember it fondly for its music – in this case, both the very first and last tracks of the game providing strong “bookends” to the action.

Here’s the track you get for setting out on your journey:

This being Jeremy Soule, there’s more than a passing resemblance to the “sound” of Neverwinter Nights – if it ain’t broke don’t fix it, eh? – but to me, the main theme of Dungeon Siege is much more memorable. I know of people who have restarted the game many times simply to hear this music again. I was also delighted to discover that Dungeon Siege II also started with an alternative version of this theme.

Get to the end of the game (assuming it holds your attention, of course – and I maintain that it’s actually an entertaining experience worth playing through) and your battle with the final boss is accompanied by this stirring soundtrack:

Scary choirs, clangy percussion, a hurdy-gurdy break and… there it is, lurking around the 1:08 mark, that opening theme. Once I heard that, any trace of gaming fatigue I had was immediately gone and I had to finish this game to do justice to the excellent soundtrack. It’s strange. The adrenaline rush of the simple re-use of a musical motif – I often wonder if I’m the only one that this particular technique has an effect on. But then I think about how many composers out there do it and I know it can’t just be me.

Space Channel 5 (Hataya, Tokoi, Nanba, Ohtani featuring Ken Woodman and His Orchestra)

My love for Space Channel 5 has, of course, been well documented in the past but I feel it’s worth mentioning here simply because it’s a completely different soundtrack to what we’ve heard above – and yet it still uses that same technique, and it has that same effect on me.

Space Channel 5’s main theme, Mexican Flyer, is the basis for much of the rest of the game’s soundtrack – if not in terms of reusing motifs then at least stylistically, with the blaring horns and Sixties stylings providing a backdrop to many scenes in the two games in the series. It’s certainly a memorable, toe-tapping theme that sums up the “Gays In Space!” aesthetic nicely. So when I got to the end of Space Channel 5 Part 2 after, oh, the mighty 45 minutes of game that preceded it, I was immensely gratified to be dealing with the extremely bizarre and surreal finale accompanied by this piece:

This piece has everything I want from a finale – a bit of drama (0:33), a bit of cheesy false-hope “Yay! You did it!” (1:03) and cap it all with an ending that takes the main theme and builds on it from a simple vocal (1:20) up to everyone in the galaxy singing along with you (2:15). This is the kind of piece that makes you feel rotten if you fuck it up halfway through.

Persona 3 (Shoji Meguro)

There’s just one more example of what you have probably surmised is one of my favourite musical clichés to fall back on, and that is the great and brilliant Persona 3. I’m not sure much more needs to be said about this at this time other than the fact that The Poem for Everyone’s Souls…

…becomes, after 90+ hours, The Battle for Everyone’s Souls.

It, of course, is them followed by the final battle mix of Burn My Dread featuring, in Beige‘s own words, some Japanese guy “rapping the fuck out”.

Beyond Good and Evil (Christophe Heral)

Just two more, you’ll be pleased to know. First up is the spectacular soundtrack of Beyond Good and Evil which I want to draw attention to simply for its high production values and the great “bookending” of the game that these two tracks achieve.

Shortly after starting the game, you are thrust right into combat with a mysterious enemy you don’t know much about. During said battle, you are accompanied by this incredible piece of music that everyone who has played Beyond Good and Evil seems to comment on when describing the game’s amazingly strong opening sequence. Dancing with Domz certainly sets the scene for an epic battle.

The return to this style at the end of the game with the piece Sins of the Father is made all the more effective by the fact that much of the music in the middle of the game has been either of a somewhat “gentler” style, or when things did get hectic, a more “electronic”, “technological” sound. A return to the orchestral/choral stylings of the opening for the final confrontation helped, for me at least, to diminish the “Umm… what the fuck happened at the end of this game?” nonsense.

Trauma Center: New Blood (Atsushi Kitajoh)

I draw particular attention to Trauma Center here because I still find it utterly bizarre. I mean, we’re talking about a surgical action/puzzle/shooter game here. And let’s not forget the fact that the first Trauma Center game ended with you battling an illness that was “a form of Death itself” that had wrapped itself around the human heart.

I don’t know about you, but when I think about doctors, nurses and surgeons, pipe organs and scary choirs (there they are again) don’t spring immediately to mind. Neither do electric guitars. But what the hey. If you’ve played Trauma Center, you’ll know that it’s a sweaty-palmed and utterly terrifying experience, which these two pieces, heard during the final “battle” with the Cardia disease, reflect perfectly.

And on that note, it’s good night from me. Congratulations if you made it through all that, and I hope you’ve enjoyed some of my picks. If you have any other final boss musics that you’d like to share, please post ’em in the comments.

My next post on game music (which will happen when it happens and not before, dammit!) will likely revolve around the art of the end credits music.

Listen!

Don’t worry, I’m not gonna waffle on atcha. It just occurred to me that at least two out of the three games discussed below have awesome soundtracks. In the case of Space Channel 5, it is, of course, the game’s raison d’être but Divine Divinity has a notably good soundtrack also. Castle Crashers, while having a great intro theme, has a somewhat more forgettable soundtrack, though it does suit the action nicely.

So without further ado, here’s a few clips from both games for your entertainment.

Introducing Ulala! (Space Channel 5)

This first tune gives you a strong introduction to Space Channel 5 – it’s played during the first level. By a short while in, you’re left in no doubt as to how you’re supposed to be feeling while you’re playing. Gay. In every sense of the word.

Which One Is Real? (Space Channel 5)

What was the last music game you played with a bebop-like section?

Perfection! Space Elementary School Band (Space Channel 5 Part 2)

You’ll either love or hate the infectious cheerfulness of this track.

Blank TV/Ulala Support Chant (Space Channel 5)

A capella! Awesome. This piece of music sums up the whole “get everyone behind you” thing that makes the finales of the two SC5 games so awesome.

Main Theme (Divine Divinity)

The main theme from the game is an interesting composition, eschewing the kind of “epic” soundtrack that Baldur’s Gate always went for in favour of a more haunting melody.

Forest (Divine Divinity)

This is a simple piece, but evokes a sense of loneliness which is apt for the setting the music appears in.

Bitva (Divine Divinity)

A huge change of pace for this one reflecting the diverse nature of DD’s soundtrack.

Enjoy. You can download the tracks from DD at Larian’s official website. As for SC5? You’re on your own, though resourceful soundtrack collectors probably know the first places to look.

Antiquity, Rarity, Hilarity

I’ve got three games to talk about today. Depending on my stamina and how long it takes dinner to be ready, this may take more than one post. But I’m sure you can cope with that, and I’ll endeavour not to finish on a cliffhanger… unlike current DVD-du-jour Alias which is currently driving Jane nuts with the cliffhanger that every single episode ends on. Me? I love it, but then I’m a sucker for that sort of thing and could happily sit and watch a whole box set in one go. I’m that lazy.

But I digress. Let’s begin this triptych.

The Antiquity

Antiquity in question is actually not that old, hailing from 2002, but it’s actually been sitting on my shelf gathering dust almost since I bought it for full price back upon its release. I’ve started it several times but never played it in any great depth.

“What is it?” I hear you ask. Well, it’s a game with a ridiculous name. Divine Divinity, to be precise, which I can only assume is more meaningful in the original Flemish. It’s an RPG by Belgian developers Larian Studios, who remain relatively little-known to this day, but are currently working on a sequel to DD.

Why did I start playing this? Well, several reasons. When I’m between “big releases” on the consoles, I often think about picking this game up again and playing through it but inevitably something else distracts me. This is much the same reason I have never completed Baldur’s Gate II, despite the fact that I would very much like to. The main reasons I’ve decided to stick with it this time include firstly a thread over on the Quarter to Three forums discussing “Diablolikes” in anticipation for the as-yet-undated release of Diablo III, where DD’s name came up, and secondly remembering that DD was one of the earliest suggestions for the Squadron of Shame to cover, being a game that garnered considerable critical acclaim on its initial release but is still a relative unknown.

So what is it, and why did it gain such acclaim? At first glance, it appears very much to be a Diablolike, right down to having an interface lifted almost wholesale from Blizzard’s classic. However, it’s once you get into the gameplay that it becomes very apparent that it’s an extremely well-thought out game with a lot more depth than the hack-and-slash of Diablo. If you must compare it to things, it’s a curious blend of Diablo, Baldur’s Gate and Fallout – taking, as it does, the real-time “twitch” combat and single-character focus from Diablo, the huge world, character interaction, quest systems and ability to strategically pause from Baldur’s Gate and the interesting barter-based trading system from Fallout.

It’s a blend that works well. What we end up with is a game with considerably more variety than Diablo (not that that game’s purity works against it – on the contrary, it is probably one of the contributing factors that makes it so addictive) and the depth of story and interaction of Baldur’s Gate without any of the scary intimidating (for some) cogs and gears of AD&D 2nd Edition.

Plus it’s huge. We’re talking Baldur’s Gate II huge here. You spend a considerable amount of time in the first village and the dungeon underneath it before going out into the wider world. And said world is pretty huge – particularly due to the fact that what initially appears to be the “overworld” map is actually just a fraction of a much bigger game area filled with things to kill and quests to complete. Part of the joy of the game is just exploring this world and discovering what it has to offer, but there’s a well-structured quest system in place to give you a bit of direction too.

In the foreword to the game manual, the game’s designers note that they hope that people will find “their own way” to play the game, and while there are always obvious limitations on any RPG system to do EXACTLY what you want, I do get the impression that you could play DD quite happily as a Diablo clone, wandering around the wilderness and killing things for experience and only completing storyline-critical quests. On the other hand, the way I’m playing is more like a “traditional” (for want of a better word) RPG where I’m travelling between places and attempting to complete quests in an efficient manner.

It’s a really excellent game, but I can see the size and length putting some people off. I’m certainly glad I’ve decided to give it a chance though, as I’m really enjoying it and fully intend to see it through to the end.

The Rarity

This is a game I actually didn’t think existed. I remember reading about it before it came out and then it disappearing without trace. The game in question is Space Channel 5 Part 2. I adored the first game on the Dreamcast and then again on PS2 when it was re-released, despite it being absolutely 100% the most gay game on the planet. And I don’t mean that in an Internet-Fuckwad-“Gay-means-crap” sort of way, I mean that this game is super-gay. Don’t believe me? Watch this clip.

Convinced now? But didn’t you find it utterly infectious? That’s the charm of Space Channel 5, a game which is essentially Simple Simon in a camp 1960s sci-fi parallel universe. Part 2 is more of the same, but it has the dubious honour of being one of the rarest PS2 games ever, at least here in the UK.

The reasoning? It has Michael Jackson in it for a few minutes, and was released around the same time as the TV report that suggested that MJ might be… you know, a bit wrong in the head (like no-one knew that already). As a result, the game was hastily pulled, never to be seen again – so much so that boxed copies of the game now go for up to £100.00 apiece. Yes, US-based readers, that’s about $200 for one game without any peripherals or anything.

Fortunately, I had a stroke of luck in a browse through Amazon and managed to locate a seller who had the game for considerably less than £100 because it wasn’t brand new, but it was pretty much untouched. As a result, I scored the game for under £50 including shipping, and I didn’t think it was going to get any cheaper than that to get my hands on a genuine rarity.

But enough about the hard-to-findness. What’s it like?

Again, it’s super-gay, and super-fun. The gameplay remains fundamentally unchanged, though it adds both a strange two-player mode where one player is in charge of directional inputs and the other is in charge of pressing X and O to “Chu!” and “Hey!” as appropriate along with a survival mode. There’s something about it, though, that makes you want to play it again and again, even though the whole game can be beaten in about an hour, and I think it’s the infectious cheerfulness of the damn thing.

With the number of damn games that have been predominantly brown ever since Quake came along, it’s always refreshing to play a game with lots of bright colours and cheerful music, where even the villains are entertaining rather than threatening. It is impossible to play either Space Channel 5 game and not come out sporting a huge grin on your face. And that’s worth a lot – to have something that’s genuinely uplifting to play is always a pleasure, and it’s something we seem to get a lot less these days as graphics improve to the point where the Holy Grail of “photo-realism” is getting closer and closer.

The Hilarity

Castle Crashers hit Xbox Live Arcade this week after three years of anticipation and I’m pleased to report that it’s an excellent game bringing back memories of chugging 50p pieces into the Turtles, Simpsons and Asterix arcade games (and being inevitably frustrated by the shoddy home ports).

It’s also, to tie in with what I said about Space Channel 5, genuinely funny. Developers The Behemoth make a point of creating visually appealing games, as Alien Hominid will attest, but CC is filled with so many laugh-out-loud funny visual jokes that again, it’s a game that makes you smile, and a game best experienced with friends, while drunk.

I’m out of time. There may be more discussion of any or all of these titles later. For now, I hope that’s given you a taste of my current gaming. Screw big releases, these three are keeping me more than busy enough for the moment!