So as I’m careening through the Internet, looking for video game mp3s with which to load up my new iPod(!), I also re-stumbled upon a favorite site of mine that I’d like to share with you.

It’s called “Hardcore Gaming 101,” and it is at once mysterious and gratifying. In plain white and yellow letters against a black backdrop, the site offers historical information and reviews on a random and often obscure collection of games, many from generations past. You won’t find Metroid here, but you’ll read about Michael Jackson’s Moonwalker. There’s no Zelda, but there is Xevious. The most mainstream game on the site is probably Metal Slug.

Each page is littered with comparison screenshots between the arcade and console versions of the games, as well as their sequels and evolutions. If you’re lucky, you might even get to download a midi or mp3 file from the original soundtracks (OSTs, as they say).

But my favorite nook of the site, tucked away in a corner called “Cranky Gamers,” has always been the review of Animal Crossing. I’ve read it probably a half dozen times and it never gets old. Snip:

Animal Crossing is a philosophy. It’s preaching that life is nothing but a bunch of work for pointless trinkets, just so you can survive and interact with other people, all of whom are frauds anyway who don’t give a damn about what you say. And it doesn’t end until you decide to stop playing. Sticking it on the shelf is putting yourself in a coma - deleting your memory card with all of your saved village data is analogous to slitting your wrists. And Nintendo has the balls to gloss this depressing little world in smiling faces and happy little penguins and porcupines, all blissfully unaware of their empty lives.

Presumably the motivation behind Hardcore Gaming 101 is to school you on just that topic, but I’m fascinated how the site manages to say off the radar. Sure various sites link to it from time to time, but I’ve never heard of it getting any real props, which in my opinion are well-deserved.

Theory, Humour, Media | No Comments »

I’ve long dreamed of a video game cover band that does justice to the songs they tribute. Most game music is based on short, looping themes, much of it Japanese and somewhat jazz-oriented, perfect for improvisation and interpretation. And as for composition, if you can see through the blippy lo-fi sound (aesthetic to some), a lot old video game music is quite interesting.

So it’s always surprised me that the most celebrated video game cover bands (Minibosses, The Advantage, NESkimos) turn the sounds of our youth into death metal. The worst examples cover up both the song’s intricacies and their own musical inadequacy with distortion. I’m not totally against this, but when every Dr. Wily Theme Song from Mega Man 2 lacks groove, and every note rings a little too long, and every drum fill causes a missed downbeat, you start to wonder if there’s another way.

Fortunately, there’s The OneUps. For goodness sakes, the group does a latin jazz cover of the theme from Zelda, with horn solos in the middle. They have a number that interlaces Super Mario World melodies with Leroy Anderson’s “Sleigh Ride.” And according to their Web site, they’re working on a funk set. Even listening to their online offerings, you can tell that the band not only knows the music, but they know music. It’s impressive that a group this talented is willing to dedicate themselves to such a niche. You can download their albums online, or pick individual tracks, which works if you’re only a fan of some of the games they cover.

Rants, Music | No Comments »

So it’s come to this. Jeff Gerstmann, editorial director for Gamespot, was fired not long after he gave a “fair” review to Kane & Lynch, which is advertised prominently on the site. Now, two of game journalism’s classic woes — rumor and tainted reviews — are playing together in some sort of ugly clusterfuck.

I first found out about this on Kotaku. An anonymous tipster told them Eidos, publisher of Kane & Lynch, was angered by the review and pressured the company to sack Gerstmann. In real journalism (ie newspapers, magazines), anonymous sources are granted anonymity only if they reveal their identity to the journalist. It’s insurance that the person is real and has actual knowledge of the subject.

I’m not saying the tipster didn’t identify him or herself to Kotaku, but it’s not clear from their description. Does the tipster work at Gamespot or parent company CNET? Does the tipster know Gerstmann personally? These are things that would normally be divulged in real journalism.

Moving on, though, many sites ran with the story, carefully couching it in caveats that what readers are about to see is complete rumor and speculation. More conjecture circulates, and suddenly we’ve got enough inbred story for days of discussion at the gaming blogs. Sadly, the truest information here is the bullshit from CNET’s PR department, who naturally denied the whole thing and wouldn’t comment further.

Readers took to this story because it validates their fears about the game review business. Because review sites and magazines generally advertise games, there’s going to be conflict when the score doesn’t meet the ad hype. It’s certainly a heady issue, and the circumstantial evidence surrounding Gerstmann’s departure are worth discussing. The Kane and Lynch background ads at Gamespot are gone, the text review was modified slightly to include additional information and Gerstmann’s video interview has been removed. Additionally, the Kane and Lynch ads, which previously linked to Gamespot’s page for the game, later linked to directly to the Kane & Lynch Web site. (Ads and editorial shouldn’t be mixed like that to begin with.)

But there’s a way to talk about those issues without heading to the rumor mill. By adhering to lower reporting standards than “real” journalism — and yes, I think that’s a fair term here — the game blogs allow potentially false information to bounce through the Internet echo chamber. Readers are gullible, and it’s not fair to mislead them.

Media | 1 Comment »