February will have also been marked with the end of Dreampunk’s pioneering Dream Catalogue Label, who closed shop right after sharing a treasure chest full of outstanding records by promising newcomers and seasoned scene veterans alike. For slick outrun and Synthwave enthusiasts, LAU will have dominated this month with her debut album Believer, whose catchy tunes will have you yearning for the day these songs will finally get a chance to hit the stage. For those with the spare time to dig and dwell into the Bandcamp’s dizzying depths for some postmodern, non-euclidian music, February proved to be a fairly interesting month. Vaporwave is still alive and weird, as you’ll certainly listen to find out in this month’s curated selection. Enjoy!

Top Picks

LAU – Believer

(Aztec Records)

Stream on Bandcamp

Natsukime – Ikigai

(Self-Released)

Stream on Bandcamp

Twin Galaxxies – Imminent Reversal

(Pure Life)

Stream on Bandcamp

CRYOSAUNA – Grid Failure

(No Problema Tapes)

Stream on Bandcamp

John Carpenter – Lost Themes III

(Sacred Bones)

Stream on Spotify

Fury Weekend – Signals

(Fixt Neon)

Stream on Bandcamp

Niky Nine – Black Sharken

(Lazerdiscs Records)

Stream on Bandcamp

Yoshimi – 11 Pieces of Fragmented Memories

(Dream Catalogue)

Stream on Bandcamp

空手王 – IKARI​​-​​蒸気波LP III

(Karate King Records)

Stream on Bandcamp

Eulalie – A Day at the Videodrome

(Dream Catalogue)

Stream on Bandcamp

Singles & Honorable Mentions

Daria Danatelli (feat. Vincenzo Salvia) – Не Забуду / Io Non Dimentico

(Sunlover Records)

Stream on Bandcamp

Formula 2080 – Cassetter

(FixT Neon)

Stream on Bandcamp

Electric Youth – Modern Fears (Pilotpriest Come True Edition)

(Sony)

Stream on Spotify

FNKY NGHT – LOVE STORIES VOL.2

(Virtual Sound System)

Stream on Bandcamp

WDE – Codex

(Dream Catalogue)

Stream on Bandcamp

Hong Kong Express – L.Y.F.

(Dream Catalogue)

Stream on Bandcamp

Tito Machete – Sindrome di Standa

(Power Lunch)

Stream on Bandcamp

Sun Corp – Replacement

(No Problema)

Stream on Bandcamp

Sport 3000 & Waterfront Dining – StarTour Agencies

(My Pet Flamingo)

Stream on Bandcamp

POPCULTR – 2021LIVE

(Pacific Plaza Records)

Stream on Bandcamp

Eccodroid – Dematerialize

(Business Casual)

Stream on Bandcamp

There’s something about samurai or ninja themed media, its blend of honor and violence, that makes its appeal both perennial and difficult to discard. In many ways, it mirrors America’s romanticized depiction of the Old West – a comparison not lost on those who craft these tales. You need a good story for those kinds of things; it needn’t be overly complex, but if it’s not an interesting saga, is it really a saga?

I mentioned Bushido Blade in a previous article, but I wanted to be fair to it and give it what it deserves here at NRW: its own more detailed treatment. Released in 1997, it was one of my formative experiences with the PlayStation 1, and it remains one of my go-to discs in my modest PS1 library. In fact, as I went to begin this article, I did what I often do – get the game itself cued up so I can alternate between playing and writing – and Bushido Blade was already sitting in the disc tray when I opened it. Go figure.

The main appeal of Bushido Blade for me (and I’d bet real life big kid money I’m not alone) is its versatility as a source of diversion. It is a blast to play with another person in VS mode, but it also contains a really cool “modern day” samurai drama for solo play that engages you without being overly complex or convoluted. Square (who published this game but still played a role in its development) can occasionally be guilty of that kind of thing with a storyline, but I feel like the influence they had is a net positive here. As perhaps the last truly solid console of its era, the PS1 saw a lot of games published for it; while I don’t talk about it much, it’s certainly significant to the history we so often examine in these articles. I believe Bushido Blade to be one of its most worthwhile titles.

Utsusemi, the “real” main character, in his Gambit-from-Xmen getup for Story Mode. I’d like to stress how incredibly badass the dialogue is in the cutscenes; the excellent Japanese-language voice work couples with simple but theatrical writing to ad an extra level of artistic depth.

The storyline revolves around two fictional institutions, holdovers from 500+ years back in Japan’s history: a dojo called Meikyokan, and a guild of assassins known as Kage (fittingly, the Japanese word for shadow) who live within the dojo. One of the six playable characters, Utsusemi, led the dojo until he was violently deposed by his rival Hanzaki. Hanzaki later gained possession of a cursed sword, and its evil influence changed him into a wicked man who has discarded the internal values and traditions of the Kage. This includes treating the dojo more or less as a prison for those within the school who disagree with his new path. The story past this point has variations depending upon which character you choose, but the common theme is that you have escaped the dojo as a defector. Cut scenes with subtitled Japanese dialogue act as bridges between brutal fights in various urban and rural locales, including parking decks, bamboo forests, and construction sites. After all, they can’t just let you go, right?

What truly made (and still makes) Bushido Blade stand out among fighting games is its damage system. Each character can use all of the available weapons in the game, but has an aptitude with certain types (translation: a slightly better move set). When different types of attack strike different parts of an opponent’s anatomy, they can maim, cripple, handicap, slow down, or instantly kill the victim. There is no life bar; violence and death in Bushido Blade are presented in a far less abstract fashion, with some realism in mind. Another layer of detail is added by the different stances one can take while wielding the various weapons. Each one has its own advantages and drawbacks, with some favoring defense and others being suitable for a balls-to-the-wall attack. You can also break into a trot or make quick feints. Bushido Blade is nearly incomparable to conventional fighting games of its time, breaking from tradition and convention in an earnest (and successful) attempt to show fighting for what it truly is: intense, uncompromising, quick, and lethal.

Speaking of lethal, here’s a pixelated spray of arterial red to show those unfamiliar with the game how quick you can die and how “tasteful” the gore level is. Kannuki (my favorite character) gets his body opened up after a critical misstep.

Alternate modes of play exist beyond VS mode and the single player story. One is a pretty cool “POV mode,” where you can dual from a first-person view against a computer opponent. Another is Slash Mode, where you face off against foe after foe after foe in an effort to survive as long as possible. I particularly enjoy this one as a chance to hone my skills for the main run. The challenge increases very gradually and it’s a fun way to burn an hour or two when you get into it.

I can’t heap mounds of praise upon the graphics, nor can I take a shit on them. PS1 graphics, for the most part, are what they are: low-poly, but well-animated and executed low-poly. One visual bit they did well was the blood; it is tastefully kept to moderation, but visually striking and appropriately used to convey what blood is meant to convey in theatrical terms. The soundtrack is used sparingly but is very good; it emulates traditional Japanese music very closely, with an inoffensive dash of modernity added in here and there. From the perspective of “video games as art,” I would say that Bushido Blade comes across as an understated but extremely effective piece of art.

POV mode is a little bit weird at first, but it’s easier to adjust to it than I thought it would be and it’s really cool once you get used to it. The little guy in the upper right is so you know what stance you’re using.

If you are a PS1 enthusiast, you probably already have this game in your library. If you don’t, and even if you don’t like fighting games, I encourage you to give this one a spin in the tray. As I stated above, I consider this to be right up there with Final Fantasy VII and CastleVania: Symphony of the Night as an absolutely essential title for the original PlayStation.

The Nintendo Entertainment System hit US shores in 1985. It wasn’t just a success, it became its own little matte-gray pop culture icon. From 1985-87 was arguably its glory era; it had no meaningful competition outside its native Japan, well over half the market’s share in hand (65% by ’87), and Nintendo was such a household name that moms would often just call any game console a Nintendo when referring to it.

1989 saw NEC try to sell its PC-Engine in the States under the name TurboGrafx-16, and that same year Sega followed suit with their Mega Drive. As the 90s went on, these new threats were headed off by Nintendo’s own next-gen system, the SNES. The NES just kind of puttered in the background.

The Nintendo Entertainment System died a slow and quiet death… but during that death, they kept developing games for it. It is needless to say that quality control (or even interest in it) flagged a little. By 1992, with the big consoles taking shit to the street, the NES got a moderate to slow trickle of pretty terrible games with a few acceptable ones thrown in. This would continue until August of 1994, when Wario’s Woods – the last game released for the NES – hit shelves. In 1995 they finally did the NES a favor and gave it the Old Yeller treatment.

You’ll notice that all of these are titles that were released for multiple platforms. That means a version of each game exists that’s actually closer to good. Or at least, less shitty.

RoboCop 3

(Ocean/Probe, 1992)

I’m about to say a few things it almost physically hurts me to say.

They should not have done any RoboCop sequels. The second one was watchable but the third has a 3% rating on Rotten Tomatoes as we speak. They definitely should not have made 3. You know what else they shouldn’t have done? Taken a film that made $10m on a $22m budget and tried to make an NES game out of it in 1992.

The title screen has RoboCop cradling a small child on one shoulder; both he and the child are brandishing guns. Where the hell are we going with this? When I saw it, I was speechless. Where does this leave us?

Well, it leaves RoboCop on a Detroit street getting the shit shot out of him by guys in windows because it takes you two very deliberate actions to aim upward. Different parts of his body take damage and can stop working, so it’s entirely possible to just lose control of RoboCop in the least rock-n-roll way possible. The controls are about as fluid as smashing a compact car into a sturdy brick wall. Don’t try to duck while shooting or aim your gun quickly or really anything a real cop could do, let alone RoboCop. I’d even say the graphics are okay but they’re not.

Last Action Hero

(Teeny Weeny/Sony Imagesoft, 1993)

He isn’t last action anything. He isn’t even action anything. Not in this game, anyway. Maybe in the movie where shit just works. I’m not gonna sit here and say I remember or even saw the movie, but if this is the game we got out of it, maybe that’s better off.

My first big complaint about any game where I don’t have some kind of gun: Don’t make my punch, etc. so short-range that I have to choose between pacifism and getting myself hurt. You can’t hit jack shit without getting thumped yourself. You have short, thick little arms no one thought about during development. You also do this odd shuffle when you punch, like you’re trying awkwardly to hug someone. Eventually I figured out how INCREDIBLY PRECISE you must be with those fat little hams, but by then I was tired of playing the game.

AND ENOUGH WITH THIS DIGITIZED PHOTOGRAPHY SHIT. The loss of color depth, especially in a dark shot, will make someone in ¾ profile look like a goofy bird person.

Incredible Crash Dummies

(LJN, 1994)

Here’s a huge low-res image because people hated this one so much I couldn’t even find a decent scan.

I don’t even know where to start with this one. One thing I simply ADORE is how you keep moving for a second after you release the D-pad. What, the Mario 3 ice world effect, but forever? Awesome! Also, the very first level is full of situations where your little wheel-leg is a liability: inclines, little segmented areas, and things that will hit you if you don’t stop on a dime. Which you can’t.

I understand the SNES version of this one isn’t much better, which doesn’t surprise me. The NES one is difficult past the point of fun, that point where you just have to know you’re abusing yourself by playing it. Then your eyes meet this symbol of quality the very second you turn it on… and it all makes sense.

Well fuck you, too.

It’s a shame the NES died this way.