The rental shop on our high street had this bizarre policy where they'd put the most disappointing games right at eye level, like they were trying to trick you into a lifetime of trust issues. I remember staring at that Superman 64 box art—bright blue, cape flowing, all that heroic promise—while clutching my £3 rental fee like it was my last tenner. Should've bought a bag of chips instead. Would've been infinitely more satisfying.You know…
You know how sometimes you stumble across an old box in your mum's loft and suddenly you're twelve again, arguing with your brother about who gets to be Yoshi? That happened to me last weekend when I found my N64 controller collection—four original grey pads, one with a wonky stick that drifts left like it's permanently steering into a skid. The muscle memory kicked in immediately. That three-pronged alien spaceship design that everyone mocked until…
Marcus is writing this one because everyone else on the team is still arguing about whether Quantum Break counts as a game or a very expensive interactive television experiment. John thinks it’s one of the most underrated releases of the Xbox One generation. Joe dismisses it because it came out after 2010 and doesn’t have a single sprite in it. Tim liked the acting but got bored during the shooting sections. Sam spent forty hours…
You know that feeling when you stumble across an old photo album in your parents' attic? That's exactly what fired up the Sega Genesis Classics Collection for the first time felt like. Except instead of embarrassing haircuts and questionable fashion choices, I was staring at a treasure trove of 16-bit memories that immediately transported me back to Saturday afternoons spent hunched over a controller, desperately trying to beat Streets of Rage before tea time.I'll be…
My mate Dave used to have this theory about the Sega Genesis – sorry, Mega Drive to those of us who lived through the proper naming convention – that it was basically a sports car disguised as a games console. "Listen to that sound," he'd say, cranking up OutRun 2019 until his mum shouted from downstairs. That Yamaha FM synthesis chip didn't just make music; it made automotive poetry. Every rev, every screech of tyres,…
There I was, scrolling through Spotify at half-past midnight again—you know how it is when you should be asleep but your brain's still buzzing—and Alex G's "Nintendo 64" came shuffling through my discover weekly. Honestly, I'd never heard of the guy before that moment. But when those opening chords hit, something clicked. Not just the music itself, but the title. Nintendo 64. Just seeing those words together made my chest do this weird thing.The song…
There's something about sitting in front of a telly on a quiet Sunday afternoon, N64 controller in hand, watching a little hang glider drift over Birdman Island that just…gets you, you know? I've been thinking about this lately because I dug out Pilotwings 64 last week—proper cartridge, none of this emulation business—and within minutes I was back in that headspace where time moves like honey and your biggest concern is landing on the correct pad…
Whenever someone brings up prequel-era Star Wars games, I immediately think about that weird period when everyone was trying to figure out what to do with Episode I. The film had landed with all the grace of a pod racer hitting sand, but the gaming world? We were still optimistic. Maybe interactive entertainment could salvage something from Jar Jar's wreckage.I'd been living with my N64 for a couple years by then, completely smitten with that…
You know that feeling when you're digging through a charity shop's random box of N64 games and you spot something that makes you double-take? That's exactly what happened when I found Glover tucked between about fifteen copies of FIFA 98. The cover looked like a fever dream – this white glove character with cartoon eyes, holding what appeared to be a rubber ball. I'd heard whispers about this one on old gaming forums, usually accompanied…
The other day I was rummaging through a cardboard box that's been following me through three house moves, and there it was—my original Earthworm Jim manual for the Mega Drive. Crisp pages, still smelling faintly of that new-manual scent mixed with thirty years of storage. You know that smell. It's like opening a time capsule, except instead of finding historical artifacts, you're rediscovering why we used to read these things cover to cover on the…