Showing posts with label Wipeout. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Wipeout. Show all posts
Saturday, March 15, 2014
Friday, March 14, 2014
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Musi(c.)PSX: Atom Bomb (1996)
Sony's Playstation console was first released in Japan in December of 1994.
A year later, it spread across the globe, leading to it's eventual assimilation into modern living. The console was officially discontinued by Sony in 2006, but began a process of phasing out with the 2000 release of the Playstation2. Known in it's early years colloquially as the PSX, the console was characterised by a slick attitude that met modern gamers on varying levels, boasting releases like Wipeout, which fused electronic music culture with the gaming experience. This post is a celebration of that time. Music circa (c.) the PSX.
Fluke - Atom Bomb (1996)
It was only a matter of time before it came to this...
When the mid-nineties introduced a new variable into the home console equation, it was Wipeout, and the game's close association with the PSX, that formed a compelling argument to abandon the sinking Sega ship before their fate was even sealed.
Combining a slick sci-fi setting with future beats from talented dance acts; the Wipeout series instantly established itself as much more than a game. By featuring tracks from established club acts like, The Chemical Brothers, Leftfield, and Orbital, while also defining the work of Tim Wright, the games quite literally transcended the console through conventional CD capabilities.
UK dance act, Fluke, might've been around for a decade prior, but it was the '96 recording of Atom Bomb that handed them their biggest mainstream success to that date. Created for the first sequel, Wipeout 2097; the single reached the upper echelons of European pop charts, creating an iconic vision that supported the cross promotional maelstrom instigated for SCEE.
More so than other entries in this series of blog articles; Atom Bomb presents a very literal example of the discussion between the PSX and it's counterpart entertainment contemporaries. It leads one to ponder exactly why it was music had become so significant to games at this period.
Obviously, as already discussed, there was a deliberate communication between pre-existing facets of entertainment that happily benefitted mutually from this association.
Bridging talents like Chris Cunningham [discussed previously], and the artists featured in Europe's first launch title, Wipeout, brought a complimentary aesthetic to a platform clearly conceived, (at least in Europe), to represent the fashionable dance sub-culture.
Music has always been important to gaming.
While hardware developed perpetually to support expanding technical aspirations, creators happily pushed the technology to it's very limits in the pursuit of sound. This total immersion of interaction was comparable to film, but arguably far more significant, as the repeating tones of a good soundtrack replaced dialogue to emote far beyond the limited animations of 8 and 16 bit sprites.
Games weren't without their memorable or iconic tunes before the PSX, but the development of a CD-based machine capable of replicating the fidelity and complexity of conventional pop music arguably signed the death warrant of past midi compositions.
As graphical capabilities developed visuals toward a similar quality, the comparisons between gaming and film were inevitably growing more accurate. This facility of imitation meant the corporate logics that steered cinema toward sourced pop tunes were ripe to be replicated in games, even if their motivation was now artistically contemporary, rather than strictly corporate driven (ie; Batman's 1989 Prince soundtrack).
These congregating movements almost inevitably gave us Wipeout.
They were part of an industrial machine racing toward the year 2000, like some sort of technological competitor with space-faring Russians. It was a time of techno aspiration and high production, giving us music we could not only walk away from humming, but also take with us in fantastic dual purchase.
It was a time of tremendous value. I miss it.
Original Post: http://www.1up.com/do/blogEntry?bId=8991001
A year later, it spread across the globe, leading to it's eventual assimilation into modern living. The console was officially discontinued by Sony in 2006, but began a process of phasing out with the 2000 release of the Playstation2. Known in it's early years colloquially as the PSX, the console was characterised by a slick attitude that met modern gamers on varying levels, boasting releases like Wipeout, which fused electronic music culture with the gaming experience. This post is a celebration of that time. Music circa (c.) the PSX.
Fluke - Atom Bomb (1996)
It was only a matter of time before it came to this...
When the mid-nineties introduced a new variable into the home console equation, it was Wipeout, and the game's close association with the PSX, that formed a compelling argument to abandon the sinking Sega ship before their fate was even sealed.
Combining a slick sci-fi setting with future beats from talented dance acts; the Wipeout series instantly established itself as much more than a game. By featuring tracks from established club acts like, The Chemical Brothers, Leftfield, and Orbital, while also defining the work of Tim Wright, the games quite literally transcended the console through conventional CD capabilities.
UK dance act, Fluke, might've been around for a decade prior, but it was the '96 recording of Atom Bomb that handed them their biggest mainstream success to that date. Created for the first sequel, Wipeout 2097; the single reached the upper echelons of European pop charts, creating an iconic vision that supported the cross promotional maelstrom instigated for SCEE.
More so than other entries in this series of blog articles; Atom Bomb presents a very literal example of the discussion between the PSX and it's counterpart entertainment contemporaries. It leads one to ponder exactly why it was music had become so significant to games at this period.
Obviously, as already discussed, there was a deliberate communication between pre-existing facets of entertainment that happily benefitted mutually from this association.
Bridging talents like Chris Cunningham [discussed previously], and the artists featured in Europe's first launch title, Wipeout, brought a complimentary aesthetic to a platform clearly conceived, (at least in Europe), to represent the fashionable dance sub-culture.
Music has always been important to gaming.
While hardware developed perpetually to support expanding technical aspirations, creators happily pushed the technology to it's very limits in the pursuit of sound. This total immersion of interaction was comparable to film, but arguably far more significant, as the repeating tones of a good soundtrack replaced dialogue to emote far beyond the limited animations of 8 and 16 bit sprites.
Games weren't without their memorable or iconic tunes before the PSX, but the development of a CD-based machine capable of replicating the fidelity and complexity of conventional pop music arguably signed the death warrant of past midi compositions.
As graphical capabilities developed visuals toward a similar quality, the comparisons between gaming and film were inevitably growing more accurate. This facility of imitation meant the corporate logics that steered cinema toward sourced pop tunes were ripe to be replicated in games, even if their motivation was now artistically contemporary, rather than strictly corporate driven (ie; Batman's 1989 Prince soundtrack).
These congregating movements almost inevitably gave us Wipeout.
They were part of an industrial machine racing toward the year 2000, like some sort of technological competitor with space-faring Russians. It was a time of techno aspiration and high production, giving us music we could not only walk away from humming, but also take with us in fantastic dual purchase.
It was a time of tremendous value. I miss it.
Original Post: http://www.1up.com/do/blogEntry?bId=8991001
Tuesday, May 05, 2009
Musi(c.)PSX: Breathe (1996)
Sony's Playstation console was first released in Japan in December of 1994. A year later, it spread across the globe, leading to it's eventual assimilation into modern living. The console was officially discontinued by Sony in 2006, but began a process of phasing out with the 2000 release of the Playstation2. Known in it's early years colloquially as the PSX, the console was characterised by a slick attitude that met modern gamers on varying levels, boasting releases like Wipeout, which fused electronic music culture with the gaming experience. This post is a celebration of that time. Music circa (c.) the PSX.
The Prodigy - Breathe (1996)
I'm not sure I could think of a song more anthemic to the era than this one.
A bit like Keith Flint's misappropriation as the lead-man behind Liam Howlett's The Prodigy, I could probably make a vague connection between this song's presence in the era, and my eventual purchase of a PSX in '97.
After doing the Master System and Genesis thing in the years prior, it was a logical progression to look forward to the Sega Saturn. It wasn't that I had anything against Nintendo, but with it's clunky handling and ugly red hues, it just stood to reason that the brand was the lesser option for spoon fed windowlickers. The 64 didn't show up until 1996, but like most Nintendo consoles that followed, it was fast a non-issue, worthy of note only for a small handful of familiar releases.
Familiarity was definitely a factor in this new age of console gaming, but what quickly became apparent was that this was unlike any generation before it. Genres that had previously been restricted to unfeasible dimensions exploded in ways only possible on machines that boasted 3D design across their line-up. Everything old was new again, and decisions now more than ever had to be made based on brand new available information.
Platformers and fighting games had been deal-makers in the 2D era, but as important as they still were, suddenly a good racing game had it's place. Never before on home consoles had the thrill of racing opponents in a match of speed and skill been so thrilling. The illusion of movement was transferred from scrolling backgrounds to realistically manoeuvring vehicles, and the results were electrifying. Wipeout -- a game I'll mention often -- played a major hand in veering a Virtua Eye for a Console Guy away from the Sega, over to the new challenger.
In those early days accessibility gave the PSX a slight edge, but as my world was changing in 1997, a new friend's enthusiasm for the Playstation made understanding it's range that much easier.
With the sounds of Breathe echoing throughout a period where all bets were off, the then upcoming sequel to Sony's combat racer, Twisted Metal, somehow emerged as one of several straws that broke the camel's back. It was as if the grungy BPM of Keith Flint and Prodigy were beating in time with the punk-clown symbol of Twisted Metal. The time for a decision had finally arrived and there was only one possible answer: Sony's "PSX" -- the Playstation.
Through the PSX came several years of enjoyment and exploration.
The Saturn faded into obscurity, and that PSX loving friend drifted into the post-Nirvana punk that permeated through the era, but our overlap was defined by the versatility and excitement of the Playstation. It was the race to the year 2000, when humanity was at it's most excited and ambitious. It was the culmination of video game theory and the troubleshooting execution of everything we had imagined. It was an exciting time. I miss it.
Original Post: http://www.1up.com/do/blogEntry?bId=8987663
The Prodigy - Breathe (1996)
I'm not sure I could think of a song more anthemic to the era than this one.
A bit like Keith Flint's misappropriation as the lead-man behind Liam Howlett's The Prodigy, I could probably make a vague connection between this song's presence in the era, and my eventual purchase of a PSX in '97.
After doing the Master System and Genesis thing in the years prior, it was a logical progression to look forward to the Sega Saturn. It wasn't that I had anything against Nintendo, but with it's clunky handling and ugly red hues, it just stood to reason that the brand was the lesser option for spoon fed windowlickers. The 64 didn't show up until 1996, but like most Nintendo consoles that followed, it was fast a non-issue, worthy of note only for a small handful of familiar releases.
Familiarity was definitely a factor in this new age of console gaming, but what quickly became apparent was that this was unlike any generation before it. Genres that had previously been restricted to unfeasible dimensions exploded in ways only possible on machines that boasted 3D design across their line-up. Everything old was new again, and decisions now more than ever had to be made based on brand new available information.
Platformers and fighting games had been deal-makers in the 2D era, but as important as they still were, suddenly a good racing game had it's place. Never before on home consoles had the thrill of racing opponents in a match of speed and skill been so thrilling. The illusion of movement was transferred from scrolling backgrounds to realistically manoeuvring vehicles, and the results were electrifying. Wipeout -- a game I'll mention often -- played a major hand in veering a Virtua Eye for a Console Guy away from the Sega, over to the new challenger.
In those early days accessibility gave the PSX a slight edge, but as my world was changing in 1997, a new friend's enthusiasm for the Playstation made understanding it's range that much easier.
With the sounds of Breathe echoing throughout a period where all bets were off, the then upcoming sequel to Sony's combat racer, Twisted Metal, somehow emerged as one of several straws that broke the camel's back. It was as if the grungy BPM of Keith Flint and Prodigy were beating in time with the punk-clown symbol of Twisted Metal. The time for a decision had finally arrived and there was only one possible answer: Sony's "PSX" -- the Playstation.
Through the PSX came several years of enjoyment and exploration.
The Saturn faded into obscurity, and that PSX loving friend drifted into the post-Nirvana punk that permeated through the era, but our overlap was defined by the versatility and excitement of the Playstation. It was the race to the year 2000, when humanity was at it's most excited and ambitious. It was the culmination of video game theory and the troubleshooting execution of everything we had imagined. It was an exciting time. I miss it.
Original Post: http://www.1up.com/do/blogEntry?bId=8987663
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