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Music, Lyrics and Song Design

18 Feb

This week over at Kotaku, I wrote a piece called “Gameplay and Story are Exactly Like Music and Lyrics”. It’s my take on the whole “gameplay vs. story” debate, and I believe it’s a useful one.

I’ve been chewing on the idea for a good long time now, and I was happy to finally get it down. It kind of works in tandem with my first Kotaku column from 2011 about “The Rhythm of Play”.  Two entries in my ongoing quest to demonstrate that video games are really just music.

(I’m kidding. Sort of.)

I’ve been happy with the response the piece has gotten–the analogy sure put the entire situation into perspective for me, and I’m glad to hear that it has felt useful for others as well.

I’ve been on the sidelines of the debate for a while now, reading recent pieces like Raph Koster’s “Narrative is not a Game Mechanic” and Mattie Brice’s response, “Narrative is a Game Mechanic”, watching Clint Hocking’s killer 2011 GDC talk on dynamics and “how games mean”, and earlier last year, brokering an enlightening letters debate between Tom Bissell and Simon Ferrari over at Paste.

But I’ve never felt like I had that much to add to the discussion. I understand the finer points of the definitions and analyses that are being thrown around, but most of those distinctions haven’t felt that vital to me. (That’s to me, I should stress. They’re entirely relevant to the discussion itself.) Anyway, this parallel did feel vital, and like something that was easy to understand and articulate.

After the article ran, friendly rabble-rouser Mattie Brice took issue with what she took to be my conflation of (or at least, lack of distinction between) “story” and “narrative.” I’ll point out that in my piece, I really only referred to story, though I did call these types of games “narrative games.” Perhaps I should have just gone with “story-based games.”

While I actually do find the distinction between story and narrative interesting (to think about more than to write about), I don’t believe that distinction was all that useful for the broader analogy I was making. Just as I wasn’t going to spend a paragraph making distinctions about atonal music, and how to find melody and rhythm in the work of, say, Merzbow, I wasn’t going to dedicate space to making distinctions between narrative and story.

I don’t meant to wholly disregard the importance of that distinction, however. As boring as semantics can feel at times, language is important. I just don’t think it’s all that important for the point I was making. But if you do want to make the distinction, I think that the musical analogy has a place for narrative as well as story.

The question is where we want to place narrative on the spectrum. If narrative and story are in fact interchangeable, then it’s a moot point. But I like Brice’s illustration of what narrative is, how while Tetris may not have a story, it certainly has a narrative:

Games are constantly communicating experiences to the player, as when the height of all your pieces in Tetris is juxtaposed against the increasing speed of the falling blocks to create tension and provoke anxiety.

So let’s say narrative is like musical form. The way that a piece is arranged and built; not the music specifically, but its structure. “Gameplay and Story and Narrative are like Music and Lyrics and Song-Form” is a bit of a mouthful, but it feels like an accurate headline.

At any rate. In my years as a composer and songwriter, I’ve come to understand my creative process as a kind of design. The term “song designer” sounds ridiculous, but that’s very much what writing a song is like.

Most of the songs I write start with a melody. I’m strumming guitar, or sitting at the piano, and I sing the melody to myself. It sticks, so I sing it over and over. I play through a chord progression, I figure out a bit of the form, I conceptualize the tune, but it’s all built around this one wordless melody. That melody is the core of my creative idea, the peg upon which I’ll hang the rest of the song.

Sometimes the lyrics I attach to my melodies don’t make sense right away, and I’ll wind up with a completed song with no lyrics. But other times, I know exactly what a song’s lyrics will be–I have a specific story I want to tell, and I build the song’s structure around that story.

No two songs come into existence the same way. It’s an endless puzzle, and an endless design challenge. It’ll never get boring.

I’m excited that I’ll have an opportunity to write more about music and games at Kotaku–I’ve got a regular weekly posting-block every Thursday evening called “Kotaku Melodic”, where I’ll get to write about whatever I want, from terrible menu music to Avishai Cohen. It’s gonna be a blast.

And hey, while I’m at it, maybe I’ll finally find some time to finish designing some of these songs I’ve been working on.

The Year in Review(s)

17 Dec

2011 was a hell of a year. Twelve months ago, I was a fresh-faced blogger who had just taken the reins at Paste magazine, eager to do something new but not quite sure what that would be. Now it’s December again and here I am at Kotaku, looking back at an insane year of writing, debating, critiquing, traveling, and goofing around. I’ve made more friends this year than I made in the ten before it, and have had more fun than any one person ought to have. It’s all a bit difficult to write about, actually.

I wanted to take some time over the next week or so to look back at the year that was. I figured I’d start with game reviews.

It felt like I wrote a lot of reviews this year, but looking back, I see that I wrote fourteen. That’s not as many as most hardcore reviewers, but I hope that by keeping myself to around one review per month, I managed to engineer a quality-over-quantity situation.

Here, in chronological order, are all of the game reviews I wrote in 2011. (more…)

Play It Again, Samus

3 Dec

I’m thrilled to once again have contributed a feature to the lovely Kill Screen Magazine. This issue’s theme was “The Sound Issue,” so as you can probably imagine, I was excited to come up with something good to write for it. I think I did!

My article is a look at how both games and improvisational music (jazz) devise strict rule-sets to allow for improvisation. I talk about the rules on the bandstand, discuss some of the games I use to help young students learn to improvise, and take a look at composer John Zorn’s free-jazz “game pieces.”

It’s a collection of ideas that I’ve been chewing over for a very long while, and I’m happy with how I articulated them.

As I progressed from high school to undergraduate jazz studies and beyond, I began to see that both forms [videogames and jazz] have a great deal in common. Both play with the boundaries between designer/composer intent and player interpretation, both allow for improvisation and the reimagination of the original goals of the creator. And most of all, both use strict rules to spark endless creativity.

Thanks to my editors Chris Dahlen and Ryan Kuo for working with me so tirelessly on it; now more than ever, I am aware of the benifits of a rigorous editorial process, and working with those two gents was a luxury that few writers are afforded. Special recognition to Chris for coming up with the article’s excellent title.

Props, too, to the issue’s designer Jeremy Borthwick and art directors Keenan Cummings and Jon Troutman–this is the most eye-catching issue of the magazine yet, and Keenan’s illustrations on my article are brilliant! It’s so cool to send off a huge chunk of text and then, a couple months later, see it rendered into a sexy, art-laden thing.

The issue also features work by some of my favorite writers including Matthew Burns, Patrick Klepeck, Dan Bruno, J.P. Grant, Jon Irwin and Gus Mastrapa, as well as a terrific debut article by Sarah Elmaleh.

It can (and should) be ordered from Kill Screen‘s webpage.

Three Months On The Job

23 Oct

Friends, honored guests, Pawneeans: I have some time this Sunday and I thought I would look back at my first three months writing for Kotaku. It has been an intense, often overwhelming, extraordinarily educational, stressful and rewarding time. It’s taken this long for me to even get a sense of what the hell I’m doing there, and how it is that this particular job best gets done.

Since starting in August, I’ve covered two conventions, attended a dozen or so San Francisco press events, reviewed two big games, and been at the center of a couple of internet controversies. I’ve made some people laugh, pissed some people off, and made some people think (I hope?). I’ve written around 200 posts, which may sound like a lot but by Kotaku standards is a fart in the wind. Some of those posts have been good. Some have been not so good. But I like to think my batting average is holding up okay.

We’re in the height of the fall rush right now, with more great games dropping each week. That said, I feel like I’ve got some sort of window now that I’ve finished Batman: Arkham City (it is excellent) and have a couple of weeks before Uncharted 3 and The Elder Scrolls: Skyrim. Whoo buddy, when Skyrim comes out, I don’t even know what the hell I’m going to do.

Anyway, here are some articles that I’m proud of.

I’ve only done proper “reviews” of two games, both of which I liked. Deus Ex: Human Revolution got a more holistic treatment, and I tried to articulate how the game felt like a playable love-letter to is many influences. I also really liked Gears of War 3, though I got much more specific in my review. That was a very difficult review to write, for whatever reason.

I’ve started or fanned the flames of a few controversies, most having to do with how games represent women and minorities. My very first post as a staff member concerned the Facebook beauty contest that determined the appearance of Mass Effect‘s female commander Shepard. It was the beginning of a longer story, and as it progressed I even got to interview Jennifer Hale, the exceptional voice actor who plays Commander Shepard.

Two other posts generated similar noise–the first, a response to Evan Narcisse’s takedown of an offensive black stereotype in Deus Ex, and the second just last week about Arkham City‘s weird fixation on the word “Bitch.”

With both of those posts, particularly the Batman one, I was surprised by how many people angrily told me that I had no right to be addressing the topic at all. Several of my professional peers suggested that I’d written that “Bitch” post in a cynical bid for pageviews. I can assure them that I did not, and I can further assure them that I’m not the only person to notice that aspect of the game. I was just the first to comment on it in a far-reaching publication.

But even if I had been the only one to feel that way, it was still something I thought, and these days I’m paid to write what I think and show it to people. I appreciated everyone who engaged in the discussion, but I was bummed out by fellow writers who publicly questioned my motivations for writing the piece.

Speaking of interviews, I was happy with an essay/interview I wrote entitled “Felicia Day is Just What Gaming Needs.” Speaking with Ms. Day, I was struck by her enthusiasm and creative energy, and how willing she is to do unconventional and goofy videogame things. She’s a force for good in gaming, and I think we could use more people like her. I was extraordinarily depressed by the comments on this post. That’s a subject for a separate discussion.

I was so happy to reunite with my letter-writing buddy (and buddy in general) Leigh Alexander to tackle the classic 2000 PC game Deus Ex, in what we called “The Deus Ex Letters.” Leigh was hesitant about getting on board with the “greatest PC game of all time,” and given the reactions I’ve come to expect from PC Gamers on… well… just about everything, I don’t blame her. But we had a good time, and I think we shined light on some worthwhile topics.

Not everything I’ve been doing at Kotaku has been news, criticism, or other serious(ish) stuff. I’ve been writing goofy-yet-hopefully-enjoyable things as well. Right at the outset I wrote a fake novelization of The Witcher 2, which wound up being some sort of weird mix of humorous criticism and fanfic. I’m not sure if our readers knew what to make of it (I’m not sure I know what to make of it). I do know that I had a good time writing it, and I plan to do more.

Game previews are something we do a lot of at Kotaku—our readership is very interested in upcoming games, and we get to play a lot of games pre-release and share our impressions. Preview events tend to run from “uncomfortable” to “goddamned uncomfortable” for me. Trying to get a real sense of the game is all but impossible, since you generally see exactly what the publisher wants you to see and nothing more. Furthermore, playing a game for the first time while someone watches you, with a (well-intentioned but also intrusive) PR person hovering in the background is just… it’s not very close to my ideal gaming experience. Though often there are cookies, and I do like to eat cookies while I play games. (Also, Milk Duds.)

Sometimes the PR folks at press events practically write your headlines for you, and sometimes that can get you in trouble. (*cough* Batman *cough*) (I actually plan to address the whole “Joker-Gate 2011″ debacle, but I’ll do it this week at Kotaku and I don’t want to steal my own lede here.)

Writing previews can be fun, if you’re creative about it. I had a good time writing this goofy rhyming preview for Saints Row 3, a game which deserves a poetic preview like a German Shepard deserves a plate of foie gras… which I guess is a good reason to do it? It’s a riotous, dumb game, but it’s not particularly lyrical. Anyhow, I had a good time writing it.

It was cool working with our commenters to assemble this collection of Deus Ex hidden secrets and easter eggs, which did over 1 million pageviews. That is a big number! The last hype-related thing I wrote that I liked was my analysis of the whole Dead Island trailer thing, where the emotionally impactful (blerg worst phrase) ad for a game was substantially different than the game itself. I talked about what I thought that meant, and invoked Don Draper while doing so.

I was happy to get to share some more bloggy, critical stuff, including my well-received ”Kill your Mini-Map” post about Grand Theft Auto IV that has been brewing in ma’ brain for a long time, and a post about “The Thrill of the Hunt” in games, and how much fun it can be to hunt… people… and kill them. Uh. In games. It’s nice to pause and take a look back at games that everyone has already played, and allows for much more critical perspective. I hope to do some more of that in the future.

I’ve also covered some “current events,” in that they were things that were happening and I wrote about them. I was happy with my coverage of the Foxconn iPhone game that got banned, as well as my takedown of Fox News’s uninformed take on Fate of the World. I’ve actually kinda become Kotaku‘s unofficial Fox News hatchet-man, which is a role I’m prefectly happy to assume. If you malign video games on TV, beware! I will probably make fun of you for it.

Me at E3, ignoring Jane's Addiction in favor of trinkets.

So there you have it! Some of my favorite things I’ve written in my first quarter-year at the biggest, weirdest, wildest videogame blog on the planet. The fall rush is halfway over and all my convention-attending is done, so I’m hopeful that I’ll be writing more focused, critical pieces in the coming weeks.

As always, if you’d like to keep up on my writing but for whatever reason don’t want to sift through the tons of content we run every day, you can subscribe to my RSS feed, follow me on Facebook, or track me down on Twitter, where I tend to share my biggest stories.

On a personal note, I’d like to thank all my friends for reading my stuff and supporting me. Getting a full-time gig writing about games is a very cool thing, and I feel fortunate to have this opportunity. But it can often feel lonesome, and the job hasn’t always been easy. Working from home, writing super-hard all day, addressing a mob-like comment section of shouted, conflicting opinions; dealing with doubt and isolation, as well as the occasional anonymous social-media anger of people I don’t even know. It’s all tough. Due to the full-time nature of this job, I also somewhat unexpectedly left my music teaching position at Urban, and I miss teaching every day. It has been a significant challenge for me to balance my life without my students in it.

Every reader who has sent in a note of encouragement, every friend who has retweeted my work or said nice things, everyone who’s joked around with me on IM and teamed up with me for some late-night zombie destruction… thank you. My life has never been weirder than it is right now, and thanks to you, it’s also never been more fun.

Thanks also to my editors and fellow Kotaku writers, all of whom are maniacs who work their asses off every day. Special recognition to Stephen Totilo, who has kept me sane and been a massive help in upping my game. He’s a great editor, a funny guy, and he’s a phenom when he covers a conference. It would take another 1500 words to even begin to list the things I’ve learned from him.

Emo stuff complete! Time to play some more of this game I’m reviewing for next week. It’s not gonna be pretty. But then, “pretty” ain’t what they pay me for.

At least, it’s not entirely what they pay me for.

Voicebox 360

13 Aug

It’s not every day I’m in the New Yorker. Actually, it’s pretty much been zero days up to this point. But this week’s issue features a fantastic profile of voice-actor Jennifer Hale by my friend Tom Bissell, and it’s got a quote from me!

It’s just a little quote, but it’s a good one. I’m super-proud not only to be in such an esteemed publication, but to be a small part of such a terrific piece of writing. (Also, while I can’t prove it, I think that a piece I wrote back in February was the first published instance of the still underused nickname “BroShep.”)

You can download the iPad version of the magazine or find it on newsstands now, and I recommend doing so—like all of Tom’s work, the piece is excellently written and uniquely humorous, and it offers a really informative, neat look into the world of videogame voice-acting.

While I’m sitting here not-so-humblebragging, I’ll share a short story. One weekend back near the start of the year, I knew Tom was going to be down in LA hanging out with Jennifer, and was appropriately jealous.

I was sitting around my apartment that Saturday when my phone rang. I saw that the call was from Tom and thought, “Oh cool, isn’t he down in LA with Jennifer Hale this weekend?”

“Hello?” I answered.

“Is this Kirk?” a woman’s voice replied.

“Yes…” I said, slowly.

“This is Commander Jane Shepard. I have a mission for you,” she said.

And then I died.

Hi There, Kotaku

27 Jul

Well, then. I’m crazy-excited to announce that I’ve accepted the position of San Francisco Features Editor at Kotaku!

We announced the position today – I’ll officially start this coming Monday. I’ll be writing features, criticism, developer interviews, reviews, doing field reporting from SF, keeping up my music/games column… basically everything, really. I’ve had so much fun writing stuff for Kotaku over the past couple of years, and the fact that I’m going to get to do my thing full-time for them has got me pretty pumped.

I have a ton of goals and plans and what-have-yous for what I’ll do there, but for the time being I’ll just be getting started and getting my feet under me. I’m really looking forward to working with and learning from Joel, Stephen, Crecente, and the rest of the crew.

Furthermore, I’ll be doing a lot more interacting with Kotaku’s wild and wooly commenting community — commenters have been getting a bad rap lately in many corners of the internet, but on my past few Kotaku columns I’ve been enjoying responding to the lengthy, thoughtful responses that so many people have posted. So, yeah: I’ll be reading the comments, so if you want to talk about something I wrote, please do pipe up.

The new gig does mean that I will have to step down from my position at Paste, which I’ll be sad to do. I’ve had such a good time working there thanks largely to Paste EIC Josh Jackson’s tireless work and awesome self, as well as all of the fantastic contributors I’ve had the pleasure of working with. Thanks, all. I still can’t believe some of the stuff I got to publish there, and will definitely put together some sort of list of my favorite pieces.

I guess I should mention the fact that Kotaku takes a lot of flak around the internet, for reasons as numerous as they are varied. Most of my friends, colleagues, and online acquaintances have ripped on the site for some transgression or another over the years, often publicly. To those people I say: You are forgiven! It’s okay, just never ever say anything bad about Kotaku ever again, and you and I will be cool. Everyone deserves a second chance.

KIDDING, jeez.

In all seriousness, I have always thought the big K was damn cool, and that their format works really well for delivering an incredible amount of content. The staff works their asses off, and they celebrate games and gaming culture with an unmatched joie de vivre. I’m really excited to add my voice to the fracas, and I’ll always be available to talk about whatever I write at kirk [att] kotaku [dott] com.

Anyhow, freaking out a bit at the moment, currently enjoying a fun combination of “Damn I’m Stoked” and “What the hell have I gotten myself into.”

Wish me luck, friends. This should be fun.

Just To Watch It Burn

26 Jul

(click to embiggen)

I’ve played it so many times, and yet to this day Far Cry 2 remains a game filled with such terrible thrills, such unexpected beauty.

Talk Talk Music Talk Talk

18 Jul

My latest music/games column is up at Kotaku - it’s a post about voice-acting, melody, and why so many beloved game soundtracks are from games that feature little to no voice acting. It’s an idea I’ve been chewing on for a while, and which I first articulated on Michael Abbott’s Brainy Gamer Podcast last fall while talking with Michael and Dan Bruno about our favorite game soundtracks. While it’s of course not a “final” idea, I’m happy with how I managed to articulate the core concept.

As developers add spoken dialogue and sound effects to their games, they should always weigh the value of those things against the possibility that they will overshadow their game’s other vital aspects: bounce, flow, rhythm, and feel. Games and music can both wordlessly convey feelings of challenge and stress, joy and terror, and progression and release, and a talented composer can weave his or her melodies straight into a game’s mechanical systems to create something dynamic and uniquely beautiful.

The column was also a chance for me to do some collaboration with my friend Sarah Elmaleh, who is a fantastic voice-actor based out of NY. You may remember her role as K’lara Loshachtii in the oft-delayed but epic Sci Fi adventure game Suparna Galaxy. (And the voice of the computer in the PC adventure game Gemini Rue).

Sarah lent her voice to the role of Aeris in a video I made, while… yeah… I played Cloud. My goal wasn’t to win any voice-acting awards, but more to point out how the ear changes focus once a voice enters the scene. That said, I think that a recent YouTube commenter put it most succinctly:

I hope it’s clear in the piece that I don’t mean to “dismiss” any games with voice-acting, and I’m not offering my central theory as anything other than food for thought for fans and developers alike. I love the soundtracks to games like Metal Gear and Mass Effect, and of course both of those games feature copious amounts of voice-acting. That said, I think there’s something to be said for limiting the amount of chatter that goes on in games – lately I’ve been playing a few games that feature too much repetitive NPC chatter, and it detracts from the overall experience as much as it does from the music.

It’s been really fun, as usual, to talk about the column with commenters and people on twitter, and I’ve heard some great thoughts on both sides of the discussion. And I’ve had it further reinforced that at some point here I need to play Chrono Cross, Final Fantasy VI, XenoGears and Crisis Core. You know, when I create a clone of myself specifically to get caught up on older games.

In the meantime, gotta go finish Bastion. It’s pretty cool. I’ll have some stuff to say about it.

-Read “Voice-Acting Sucks Kill It With Fire” at Kotaku-

BarCraft

12 Jul

This past Sunday, I headed down to Mad Dog in the Fog to check out a new event called “BarCraft,” hosted by Justin.tv’s gaming channel Twitch TV. I was covering the event for Kotaku, and it was great fun. My write-up went up today:

In between games there’s a convivial, social vibe as bargoers chat up strangers, discuss strategies and rehash epic games from the past. Everyone seems to agree that it’s a fantastic turnout, and that that fact is a Very Good Thing. BarCraft has that open, optimistic excitement that tends to crop up at the best types of video game events. Here we are at the start, everyone seems to be thinking, dipping our toes into the future.

My impressions are in the piece, as well as some general thoughts on professional gaming as a spectator sport. The short version: I’m totally into it. I’m certainly not much of a StarCraft player; the skill that it takes to compete on the Battle.net ladders is far beyond me. If you want a good idea of what I’m talking about, check out this insane APM demonstration:

 

But even though I could never hope to be one one-hundredth that fast, I love the game, and have had a blast learning more about the process of its design.

I missed the GDC talk given by Blizzard’s Dustin Browder entitled “Designing an e-Sport,” but I wish I hadn’t – fortunately, I can go watch it on the GDC Vault, which I fully plan to do. But even without seeing it, I enjoyed my friend David Carlton’s notes about the talk that he posted to his blog.

I’ve been thinking about sports and games quite a bit lately, realizing that it seems easier to turn a videogame into a sport than it is to turn a pre-existing sport into a videogame. People play Street Fighter IV and StarCraft 2 professionally, but to my knowledge they don’t play Madden or MLB: The Show. I have a number of thoughts about why that might be, but it’d probably be best to get them organized, do some research, and write a full piece about it.

In the meantime, I’m sure there’ll be more BarCrafts soon. The guys from Twitch TV were really excited to host more, and from the look of this Reddit thread, plenty of other folks are going to be taking it upon themselves to organize ad-hoc get-togethers of their own.

I’ll certainly go to the next one, and bring some friends. Maybe in a few months, at the end of the NASL’s second season. In the meantime, I’ll do my best to tear myself away from these YouTube videos and finish the Wings of Liberty campaign.

- Read my “BarCraft” report at Kotaku -

Hi, Manny

8 Jul

I got to go to Double Fine yesterday to interview everyone for a feature I’m writing. Dang, they are a cool studio full of nice, creative people.

This was in the conference room where I did my interviews:

Nice.

Niiiiiiiice.

Notice the box-quote from Computer Gaming World:

“…takes adventure gaming to a new dimension.”

I see what you did there, Computer Gaming World!

Print = Dead Sexy

6 Jul

There’s something about print, isn’t there? Writing on the internet is fun, and there’s a certain joy in the immediate gratification of hitting “publish.” But print publishing remains the more satisfying experience; the permanence of print will never die, doom-predicting media soothsayers be damned.

I’m happy to have a few things coming out in print this month, first of which is a big feature that I put together for Kill Screen Magazine’s fifth issue, “Public Play.” In it, I go on the road with the San Francisco-based company The Go Game. The Go Game is a bit like a hirable version of The Amazing Race, with games that sprawl across a city and involve location challenges, hidden actors, creative camerawork, and good-natured competition. I was embedded with a team that worked its way through San Francisco’s Embarcadero district, and I also spoke at length with Ian Fraser and Finn Kelley, the company’s founders.

Some other great writers have stuff in the issue as well, including friends Simon Parkin, Jon Irwin, Brian Taylor and Michael Abbott. So go order it. Or better yet, get a subscription, because I have a feeling that the next issue in particular (the “Sound” issue) is going to be pretty out of sight.

I’ve also got some stuff in the newest issue of EDGE Magazine, including a lengthy feature I wrote about Bioshock Infinite. Infinite was easily one of the most impressive demos at E3, and it was great fun to chat with creative director Ken Levine and several other members of the team working on it. I don’t have a print copy of the issue just yet, but you can buy a digital copy online or find it in stores. (I should note that Edge doesn’t publish bylines, so I’m kind of bending the rules by saying that I wrote this feature. But whatever, it’s my first article for them and I’m proud of that. In the future, go ahead and buy Edge, since I’m already working on more cool stuff for them.)

And finally, I’m so excited that Paste has finally launched its digital print mag, the mPlayer! Back in the halcyon days of its print run, Paste was known for the music CD sampler they sent out each month; that sampler returns in digital form with the mPlayer. The second issue has a reprint of my very first column, “Home Again,” and I’ll be writing plenty more things for it as we go forward. It’s free through September, too, so do check it out.

Whew. I’ve been running a bit silent lately, and just finished a big move that sapped a lot of my free time. Fortunately, I’ve got some good stuff in the works. Hope everyone out there is doing well, and finding the time this summer to sit back in the sun and do some reading.

The Rhythm of Play

4 Jun

I’m so excited to announce that I’ll be writing a regular monthly column at Kotaku! I’m focusing on the intersection of music and videogames, which is, y’know, a pretty good fit for me. My first column is up now, it’s titled “The Rhythm of Play,” and it’s a broad approach to an angle that I’ve been mulling over for some time now.

Any great video game has a groove to it, a kinesthetic dance of feedback and response that can easily be thought of as a kind of music.

Call it “The Rhythm of Play.” Our fingers push and pull with the beats and pulses of the game, using the controller to develop a cadence as surely as a drummer does when slicing his sticks around a drum kit or when a pianist bangs out chords with both hands.

I’m very happy with how it came together, and think it’s a pretty cool first entry in what should be an interesting series of columns. Special thanks to my editor, Stephen Totilo, who was a fantastic help as I worked on it. He’s the reason I’m as happy with the piece as I am.

The sort of cross-media analysis I’m doing is, of course, nothing new, but I think comparing games to music is significantly different than comparing games to film, or literature, or any other medium. The main reason for that is that I’m not comparing games to listening to music (or watching a movie), this is about playing music. Both games and musical instruments require input, and so the comparison seems apt.

But of course, this piece is merely scratching the surface of a huge discussion to which there really is no end or “answer.” It’s really just about the way we experience games, and something that I think gamers and designers alike should keep in mind.

I’ve been having fun chatting with some of the commenters at Kotaku, many of whom have offered substantial, thoughtful responses. A few people pointed to another Kotaku column by the inimitable Tim Rogers called “In Praise of Sticky Friction.” It’s a pretty beastly read (so many words!), but I’ve read enough to know that we’re talking about very similar things, albeit using different language to do so. I’m looking forward to having the time to sit down with Instapaper and finish it, but I definitely recommend giving it a read.

Man, been a hell of a good week for me and the internet! Thanks to all for reading, and for the kind words about the column. I’m thrilled to have the opportunity to write about music and games for such a large audience, and can’t wait to tackle a whole bunch of other subjects.

Last thing before I head off for E3 — Do go and check out Michael Abbott’s latest Brainy Gamer podcast, which features three of my favorite people (four if you count Michael himself). In the first part, Tom Bissell and Brian Taylor do an in-depth discussion of L.A. Noire (with a special shout-out by Tom to my own Kill Screen review), and in the second part Michael and my FFVII Letters buddy Leigh Alexander have a very cool one-on-one chat.

Alright. Onward to LA, and the fine fiasco that awaits.

-Read “The Rhythm of Play” at Kotaku-

No Escape From L.A.

2 Jun

My review of Team Bondi’s new detective game L.A. Noire is now online at Kill Screen. It’s a weirdo existential Twilight Zone kind of thing, and I’m happy with how it came together.

Soon I had run more than a mile, down alleyways and across parking lots, past cars and buses and trains, through side streets and straight up Hollywood Boulevard. Cars always stopped just short of striking me; police officers made no note of my passing. I could not draw my gun, I could not use the phone, I could not even speak. I could only run.

This game was so strange for me—there were a lot of things it did well, or at least, things it did interestingly. Chief among them the whole motion-scan thing, the way the game recreated human faces so effectively. As several folks have said, when you look at the faces in L.A. Noire, you don’t feel like you’re looking at videogame characters—you feel like you’re looking at people.

So many games revolve around shooting, jumping, or simply accumulating numbers and comparing statistics. I for one have begun to wonder what else is out there. L.A. Noire represents an intersting stab at answering that question, and while it doesn’t succeed, I’m still glad it exists.

Since I elected to go with a nontraditional critique, there were a lot of things I didn’t get to talk about. I think I’ll probably have to write some more about the game, but for the time being I wanted to throw some recognition to Andrew Hale’s fantastic musical score. It’s equal parts Dragnet and Gil Evans, and it’s just so cool… I only wish there was more of it!

The close harmonies, the excellent horn voicings, that noble, clarion trumpet… killer. And any chase scene that’s scored by a bari sax/bass clarinet battle is aces in my book. Great work by the bass and saxophone soloists as well as the trumpet player — Garry Schyman’s work on Bioshock 2 was the last videogame score I remember to feature instrumental soloists to the degree that L.A. Noire does. More, please.

There’s been some meta-discussion about my review—whether it should be called a “review,” and whether there should be a score at the end. I generally don’t like that kind of semantical debate, and few things bore me harder than the “game review-scores” discussion. But some thoughts:

The word “review” doesn’t really seem like it has to mean “product review,” and I sense that it is only as loaded as it is because it has gained certain connotations over the past twenty years. That’s not to say that we shouldn’t change the terminology instead of trying to change the meaning. Honestly, “critique” and “critical essay” describe my piece just as accurately as does “review.”

But then, these things don’t happen overnight, and I’m confident that Kill Screen is going to be at the forefront of whatever new methods of critique surface as we continue to wrestle with how we talk and write about videogames. For now, I’m content to focus on content over labels; call my piece whatever you’d like.

As for the score, I scored the game according to Kill Screen‘s rubric—a 50 means the game was kinda below-average, an experience that I didn’t really enjoy. In addition to the way it weirded me out, I found a lot of the story and mechanics to be significantly flawed. As I said, I might have to detail those more at some point, but I thought that both Mitch Krpata and Tom Chick‘s reviews covered a lot of my complaints.

Anyhow, I have been really happy with the reception my piece has gotten so far; thanks everyone for reading. And just today it got cross-posted to Pitchfork, which, ya know, is only pretty much the coolest thing ever.

Here we are, three days before E3, and I have never felt as caught up in the breathless sprint of videogame coverage. Trying to slow down and actually evaluate a game feels like trying to keep my feet under me after jumping from a moving car.

I have several games that I’ve yet to write a word about—The Witcher 2 in particular is quite fabulous and deserves some love—but I’m already running forwards to the next thing. Sigh. I hope that a more lengthy discussion of L.A. Noire emerges, because it raises several questions that we would do well to attempt to answer.

In the meantime… time to pack up my stuff and head to L.A. Hopefully I won’t have to solve any crimes while I’m down there.

-Read L.A. Noire review at Kill Screen-

Game Gear

11 May

I knew that the coming 3DS system update would add the ability to purchase classic Nintendo, Game Boy and GBA games via Nintendo’s online store. But for some reason I was unaware that it was also going to allow us to buy and play Game Gear games on our 3DSes.

My first reaction to this news was, “Yes. Yessss.” But then I thought about it some, and I’m not so sure I miss any of those Game Gear games. I think I miss the Game Gear itself.

As I’ve mentioned before, I wasn’t allowed to own any proper videogame consoles growing up; I played PC games pretty much exclusively. I say “pretty much” because my parents did allow me and my sister to have handheld game systems, a compromise that they informed us of in typically devious fashion. After refusing to let me get one for months, they suddenly gave us both Game Boys for Christmas. (I think it was for Christmas, anyway.) It was almost more than I could handle.

As excited as I was about the games I would get to play, I was even more excited about the hardware itself. The way the new plastic and the electronics smelled, the weight of the system in my hands, the layout of the buttons. The speaker on the lower-right corner, those four ‘AA’ batteries lined up in the back, giving the system some extra heft.

I also remember the Game Boy came with its own headphones. They were color-coded—I just looked them up and found a picture. I’m surprised by the level of feteshistic nostalgia I feel when I look at that picture. Those headphones were for Game Boy Use Only; they were not for Walkman (or later, Discman) use. They were for listening to the Tetris theme, over and over and over and over again.

Eventually the Game Boy lost its hold over the portable gaming market. My friend Bjorn got an Atari Lynx, a monstrous thing with reversible controls, a wide, washed-out screen and a weird selection of games. He had a game that involved flying a blue fighter jet, and I was really bad at it. But who cared? The Lynx had a color screen.

So pretty soon everyone wanted a color handheld, and in a year or so we had three choices: the Lynx, NEC’s extraordinarily overpriced but allegedly amazing TurboExpress, or the Sega Game Gear. The Game Gear seemed like the best compromise between affordability, game library and screen-awesomeness, so I decided I wanted one.

For a long time Game Gears were prohibitively expensive, at least for me. But on a random visit to Sam’s Club with my dad, I wandered over to the electronics section. I remember thinking, “Wow, Sam’s Club has an electronics section? I thought they only sold box wine and weird extra-large sweatshirts!” As I walked through the field of vaguely sad off-brand TVs and stereo recievers, I saw a small screen glowing in the distance. Holy shit, it was a Game Gear.

A bundle package, in fact. It included a Game Gear, carrying case and two games and for more or less the list price of the baseline unit. I’m not totally sure which games came with it… I know one was Sonic the Hedgehog. I barely had the money for it, but I made the purchase right there.

I’ll never forget how awesome the Game Gear felt to hold, to play. The contours of the plastic, the grooves dug in beneath the D-Pad and the two big buttons. The odd, half-moon start button. The glowing red power light and of course, the big, glowing screen.

Sega was really into the screen. They had this (*sold separately) TV Adapter for the Game Gear that, they stressed, could turn your Game Gear into a TV!

The above image was on the box, and was featured in all of the promotional materials for the system. There was always an asterisk that read:

*Simulated Image

I have a feeling that the TV Tuner’s actual reception was less than crisp, but for me, that was unimportant. I was never, ever going to buy it.  The important thing was that simply by existing, the TV Tuner proved that the Game Gear’s screen was as good as a TV screen. For kids whose only portable gaming experience was the Game Boy, this was a big frickin deal.

I loved my Game Gear. I don’t entirely remember the games I had on it, though I do know I had Mortal Kombat. I suppose that at some point or another it was given away or it broke. I’m actually a bit troubled by the fact that I can’t remember what happened to it… maybe it’s still in a drawer at home somewhere. I doubt it.

But I am struck by how vividly I remember the way that rounded black rectangle felt in my hands, the way I would organize and lay out my game collection before traveling with it. Little things like what it was like to plug in the power adapter and how the batteries went into two separate compartments on the back, one on each side of the cartridge-tray.

I felt a sort of lonely, personal attachment to the Game Gear, because none of my friends had one. In fact, to this day I don’t believe I’ve ever even met someone who had one. None of my friends in the videogame community have ever talked about owning one. As far as I know I’m the only person in the world who ever bought a Game Gear. Maybe that’s why they were on sale at Sam’s Club.

At any rate. I don’t know if playing Game Gear games on my 3DS will bring back warm Game Gear memories any more than browsing Google Images did, but I’ll sure give it a shot. Plus Shinobi was pretty sweet, from what I remember.

On The Outside

5 May

There are walls around gaming. How they got there is a thorny and complex issue, but the fact remains that more so than most forms of entertainment or expression, there is a divide between those who play games and those who do not.

I’ve written a feature for Kotaku that comes at that issue sideways. It’s titled “But I Don’t Play  Video Games! Don’t Worry. Portal 2 Will Teach You How.” It was a fun piece to write, and I’m hopeful that it will convince a few non-gamers to give Portal 2 a go.

But gameplay can be so difficult to talk about—what’s that old saying? Something about dancing and architecture? In order to really understand video games, you can’t read about them or watch someone else play; you have to play them for yourself. It’s why we all cried bloody murder when Roger Ebert dismissed the art-game Flower after watching a videotape of another person’s playthrough, and it’s why you couldn’t possibly understand my adoration of the building blocks game Minecraft simply by watching me punch holes in a virtual hillside with a pixellated axe for a few hours. Playing Portal 2 is a wonderfully kinetic, joyful experience, and it’s one that I really want you to have.

As a side note, I noticed that a lot of people have talked about their adventures (and misadventures) guiding their friends and loved ones through Portal 2‘s co-op levels. Although I understand the impulse to bring the uninitiated along with us on a tandem co-op excursion, I actually think that if someone’s going to discover videogames through Portal 2, he or she should probably start with the single-player campaign.

Cooperative gaming is awesome, but it can also be surprisingly frustrating, particularly for players of varying skill levels. I can easily imagine sitting as a co-worker or girlfriend apologizes over and over, “Sorry, I don’t know what I’m doing. Wait, how do I aim? Where are we?”

Co-op gaming just doesn’t have the patience of a single-player game, if that makes sense. If you move too slow, there is always someone waiting on you, and that’s stressful. By contrast, one of the fine things about Portal 2‘s single-player campaign is that it’s almost never time-sensitive, so new players can slow down and adjust to the controls.

If we do get some new gamers into the fold, I hope that we can welcome them with open arms. I have been really interested in the reaction to Garrett Martin’s PAX East Piece that we ran at Paste. Some have remarked at how similarly they feel, and others have been upset and outright hostile about it.

In the piece, Garrett recounts how the convention brought out his inner cynic, and how difficult it can be not to feel bummed out by it all.

Maybe it’s because I’m a proud dilettante annoyed by those more dedicated than me. Or maybe it’s because someone can enjoy video games without wearing t-shirts with Portal references or listening to MC Frontalot or laughing at bad web-comics that focus exclusively on one of the great multitude of entertainment options available to us today. I hate cynicism, but then this all sounds very cynical. PAX East makes me hate myself.

Several of Garrett’s points resonated with me, though I felt a bit differently about PAX Prime than he did about PAX East. An excerpt from my own writeup from last fall’s big shindig in Seattle:

During the Q&A segment of a videogame journalism panel, a middle-aged English professor approaches the microphone and prefaces her query by cautiously asking why there aren’t more people her age in attendance. Without missing a beat, a journalist on the panel quips, “Because they’re all too busy playing Farmville!” A deep guffaw rises from the crowd and, realizing he might’ve overstepped, the panelist quickly backpedals and graciously answers her question.

The exchange is indicative of the delicate balancing act with which many gamers are faced—if we must revel in our specialness while also welcoming newcomers, surely there is going to be some conflict between the two. Videogames traffic in personalized fantasy, so it’s not a surprise that some of us have a hard time opening them up to the rest of the world. Is there anything harder to share than one’s fantasies?

I dunno, I guess. In many ways, gaming is like any other area of interest. It’s something that rewards you the more you do it. But it’s also very much its own animal—like I say in the Kotaku piece, games don’t quite “come to you” in the way that other media like movies and TV do. You have to actually play them to enjoy them.

Jazz is actually very similar—more than almost any kind of music, Jazz requires understanding in order to appreciate and enjoy it. (I know this is not true for everyone; I’m speaking broadly here.) It’s why jazz listeners can be such insufferable snobs, and why so many people are turned off by the music. It sounds like chaos until you understand the structure, vocabulary and common practices of the musicians who perform it. But once you do, it is an incredibly beautiful form of expression to let into your life.

When it comes down to it, I’m not really certain what it is that makes gaming culture so off-putting to so many, particularly to so many who work in and write about the industry professionally. But I’m glad that we are seeing more and more games that I can so easily recommend to my non-gamer friends.

If there are aspects to gaming culture that we find distasteful, surely diversifying that culture can only be a good thing.

Sackboy photo taken at PAX East by Brian Taylor
PAX Prime photo by Annie Wright

Domino Effect

26 Apr

My review of Valve’s new puzzle game Portal 2 is now online at Paste. I liked the game a whole lot, which is not a huge surprise given that it’s the sequel to one of my favorite games of all time and was made by probably my single favorite design studio in the world.

Everyone has had a lot to say about the game, so rather than get too nitty gritty with my criticism, I thought I’d try to illustrate how it felt to play. To do that, I headed down to Cliff’s Variety in the Castro, picked up a big box of dominoes, threw them onto our living room floor, and started taking pictures.

Let me tell you, dominoes do not make for very cooperative photo subjects. Many of the formations I made required a good deal of time to set up (read the review and you’ll see what I’m talking about), and a single mistake would send me back to square one. There are few things more frustrating than toppling a huge domino-heart for the fourth time while Stephen Merchant’s grinning face silently mocks you from the floor.

Interestingly enough, I actually learned a thing about design as I progressed. I was initially constructing the shapes from the beginning to the end, which meant that by the time I got twenty dominoes in, a single mistake could undo all the work that led up to it. In other words, I was unwittingly enforcing old-school game design upon myself, making a game with no checkpoints and a single life. Death resulted in starting all over again. It was stressful.

I quickly figured out that it would be smarter to leave a couple of empty spots in the row, thereby limiting my losses should an errant domino topple. This checkpointing system both of saved me time and helped me to relax, which in turn made me much more effective at laying the actual dominoes.

The moral of the story? Hooray checkpoints!

Anyhow. I had a lot of fun with the review, and even more fun playing the game itself. I still have quite a bit of the co-op campaign to play, as well as the full developer commentary on the single-player campaign. It’s really good.

I’ve noticed several people complaining about the single player campaign’s short length while others are saying that the pacing feels off, that the second and third acts feel bloated. I disagree.

I watched many friends online simply charge through this game, beating it in a single day. While I’m sure this would have been possible, I opted to take my time with it (ten hours for single-player), playing for an hour or two each night for a week. I’m glad I did.

I got stuck a couple of times, and rather than looking for an answer online, I turned off the machine and slept on it, returning the next day with fresh eyes. Personally speaking, I had no problem with Portal 2‘s pacing; with each new hour, I was simply happy to be playing more Portal. Sure, a few of the puzzles in the second act felt a touch too spacious and undirected, but that’s a fairly small complaint compared to the vast number of things the game does right.

There are so many great little touches, many of them musical—the way that lasers generate complimentary tones, the grooves generated by the electronic catapult-levers—as well as the seemingly endless amount of macho dialogue given to the malfunctioning turret bots and the scores of hidden jokes and references that I have yet to find. Valve’s Source engine might be showing its age in terms of its its ability to stream content and eliminate loading screens, but it remains clean and beautiful and is a joy to see in motion. And the big finale! While I wouldn’t dream of spoiling it for anyone, suffice to say that I almost fell out of my chair due to the awesomeness.

Anyhow. You can get my official thoughts over at Paste, along with my dominotastic rendition of what it feels like to play Portal 2. Hope you dig it, and I hope you get a chance to play the game.

-Read my Portal 2 Review at Paste-

Fatality

19 Apr

When it came down to it, back in the 90′s you were either Street Fighter or Mortal Kombat; there was no middle ground. The era had a lot of divisions going on—Coke/Pepsi, Nintendo/Sega,  Nike/Reebok—on the one hand  the refined classic, and on the other the edgy upstart. For whatever reason, the refined classic tended to be “red” while the upstart was “blue.”

There was never really much question which franchise I preferred; I was a Mortal Kombat guy through and through. From the first time I saw someone playing the game at Aladdin’s Castle in Bloomington’s College Mall, I was hooked. I remember witnessing:

  • Johnny Cage uppercutting someone onto the spikes in the pit
  • Kano ripping out Johnny Cage’s Heart
  • Sub-Zero tearing out someone’s spinal cord
  • Goro

That was pretty much all I needed. The digitized actors, the claymation, the gouts of ketchupy blood… who needed precision balancing and deep combo-sets when you had all that? I liked the comparative simplicity of the gameplay, like… I always liked the “uppercut” move. With a simple combination button press, I could launch my enemy across the screen and knock away a sizable chunk of health at the same time.

I wasn’t allowed to have any set-top consoles growing up, so the only way I got to play the game was either over at one of my friends’ houses or, eventually, on my Sega Game Gear (I was allowed to have portable systems). I remember when the Game Gear port was finally released. I had pre-ordered, so I went to the Software Etc. (also in College Mall), picked up the tiny box, plugged it in and played and played.

I’m still surprised at how great the portable version was; surprisingly little was lost in the translation. And the Fatalities, oh, man. That was the whole reason you played, just to get to that final moment when you could frantically press buttons in hopes of pulling off a particularly gross finishing move.

My sweet collector’s edition of the game just arrived, and I’ll be doing a review for Paste soon. In the meantime, some fellow Kill Screen writers and I wrote up a bunch of half-serious “reviews”of the new fatalities, based on videos we watched. I got to do some really good ones, though my favorite was Mileena’s:

She sensually saunters over, laying her hands upon his cheeks and gently turning him to face her. It’s a quiet, intimate moment, almost shocking in its immediacy. Conquered and conqueror, their eyes nearly meeting—in another lifetime, in an entirely different kind of game, this could melt into a romantic embrace. But … no. Mileena tears his head from his body, stepping into the spotlight and removing her mask. With her true visage revealed, she lowers her horrid maw and feasts upon the severed face of her foe, throwing the remains to the ground and moaning in blood-soaked ecstasy.

Also I use the phrase “cursed with the fang-laden mouth of a Lovecraftian fish-monster.” The whole thing is pretty funny and gross; go give it a read.

With the intense amount of great games I’ve got to play, I’m beginning to wonder about how I’ll get through them all. When it rains, it pours. Sometimes it pours blood.

Suparnians Unite

8 Apr

Perhaps you have heard about Suparna Galaxy. If you are friends with me on any of the social media outlets I frequent, I’m all but sure that you have. (Though it may have looked like: #Suparnagalaxy.)

The answer to the question, “What is Suparna Galaxy?” is a bit like the Louis Armstrong’s response to the question, “What is jazz?”

“If you have to ask, you’ll never know.”

Now, that isn’t exactly fair. It is still possible to understand Suparna Galaxy even if you have arrived late to the party. Suparna Galaxy, essentially, is crowdsourced improv satire; it’s an imaginary “in-development” videogame that both mocks and pays weird tribute to many of the conventions of modern role-playing games.

Hey, that was actually pretty easy to explain.

It all started when games writing and FFVII buddy Leigh Alexander expressed her distaste for a certain popular spacefaring roleplaying series on Twitter. She did so by imagining a fake game called “Suparna Galaxy.” I egged her on, some other folks jumped in, a wiki got created, and through the power of “yes, and” Suparna Galaxy became A Thing. Co-creator Denis Farr was kind enough to document that initial Twitter exchange for posterity.

I highly recommend listening to the latest Big Red Potion Podcast, which features both me and Leigh in our respective roles as Suparna Galaxy Executive Producer and Creative Director. We managed to keep a straight face for almost 30 minutes, though I’ll admit that I was biting my tongue off-mic on a pretty regular basis. And past those 30 minutes, it’s actually just a good listen; the two of us (as well as our gracious hosts Sinan Kubba and Jeffrey Matulef) talk about what, if anything, we all are “saying” with Suparna Galaxy, as well as thoughts on FFVII, role-playing games, Dragon Age 2, Deadly Premonition, and a whole bunch of other stuff. So yeah, do check it out.

Among other things, the podcast marks the world premiere of the Suparna Galaxy developer diary montage, which I edited together from recordings made by Suparna contributors Nels Anderson, Dan Bruno, Denis Farr, John Peter Grant, Sarah Elmaleh, and Ben Abraham.

You can also listen to the dev diary on our new Developers Page on the wiki. And just today, I uploaded the full diaries from John, Denis, Dan, Ben and Sarah, each of which was so good that it seemed a shame to leave them on the cutting-room floor. “The Cutting Room Floor,” after all, is somewhat antithetical to Suparna Galaxy. Give them a listen.

The last thing you should check out is Sarah’s most recent voiceover outtake. It’s a death scene: she takes on the role of K’lara Loshachtii just before she is enfolded back into the mothersource. You can find it at the bottom of the Dialogue_System page, and it is spectacular. The music is really what takes it over the top… John’s ethereal score elevates her performance from humorously bizarre to genuinely moving.

There I go again, talking about Suparna Galaxy like it’s a real game. I guess that in the end, reality is what you make it.

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