Perhaps extending from my previous post is the evolution of sound in games. Like graphics, they too have come a long way in a short space of time, but in this day and age have petered out in their progress, while games graphics continue to evolve as we speak.

While it’s odd to speak about an era of games that I had little to nothing to do with, it’s essential that I do at least talk a bit about it.

And you'll enjoy it like the bitch you are.

The sound and music -or what at least passed for music- in games not some 20 years ago, before I was even born, was drastically different from the multi-channel 320bit sound we experience today. In fact, beyond the grumbling, earthy sounds of the Sinclair ZX Spectrum that barely passed for clear blips and beeps. This, naturally, was if you managed to keep your eardrums intact after the 56k modem-like hissing and screeching the loading of these games created. After that? Enjoy having Hall of the Mountain King going through your mind like somebody hiccuping it right into your cochlea.

I don't have anything witty to say here.

Some home computers such as the BBC Micro could offer a few different chirps and whirrs for your extra pennies -or hundreds of pounds, as the case could well be-, but ultimately losing the true terror that hearing Beware, I live.” induces.

It wasn’t until the Commodore 64, one of the most iconic home computers of the age arrived, that dedicated sound chips arrived too. Now sound came in a polyphonic, tuneful form over the muddy would-be blips of the ZX Spectrum. Yet still, as evidenced in the insane and mind-boggling Thing on a Spring, music would cut out with sound effects, and dominated the scene. Later still, the Amiga series of home computers arrived. Focusing for a brief moment upon the Amiga 500, a cut to Zak McKracken and its exemplary music, for its time. However, the Amiga 500 came around in 1987, a good few years later than the better-known Commodore 64.

1982 to 1987 is a long jump, so what’s been going on in the arcades this whole time? And what about the more child-friendly consoles that started appearing in the mid 80s?

A face only a mother could love.

Over in Camp Arcade, we have the likes of Gauntlet and its lisping narrator, and the aforementioned Sinistar. Both games exhibited superior graphics and sound to their home computer likenesses, but this was largely due to an arcade unit being completely dedicated to its one task, and on the subject of largely? It was a lot larger.

Camp Console proves to be more interesting and perhaps easier for me to talk about. I was never into arcades much, and due to being so young, missed out on almost all of them. However, through nothing but endless browsing of Wikipedia, I know a fair deal about the consoles of old. Starting with the Atari 2600.

do-do-do-dododo-dun!

By this point, the poor old 2600 is starting to show its age, but for a thing so old, it still did audio a little bit better better than its home computer counterparts. Eventually though, it was conquered by the now-ubiquitous NES, which boasted superior music, clearer pictures, and a games library that would eventually make any other console or computer shake in its little circuitboard pants. If not for the sheer size and selection of games, then for its iconic characters and tunes that chirp in the minds of children and adults everywhere, even today.

Moving on a few years, to the early 90s, we can finally get into my own era, where things become a little clearer, and a little less difficult to write.

Sonic the Hedgehog. I am a self-confessed oldbie fan of Sonic the Hedgehog, and I think for me, that music was everything goodabout my childhood, and potentially more iconic to me than Super Mario Bros. The era of 16-bit music was when I really grew up, and the perfectly blended synthetic instruments and rings make me feel like I’m five years old again every time I hear them.

Your 6-year-old self wishes you were this awesome.

"I feel like I could... like I could... 'Take on the world!'"

The early 90s was really where the beginning ended. Soon after, true voice acting became possible in computer games. The ‘home computers’ such as the Commodore 64 and ZX Spectrum were finally coming to an end, and the now ubiquitous, often brandless Personal Computer, or PC came to play. Still, the sound was imperfect, grainy, and bitty. There was progress, nonetheless.

In fact, that’s what most of the 90s was about – progress. Lots of small, iterative moments of progress that are, in the majority, too small to document here. If I did document every little advance and change, this would change from (at this line) an ~800 word article into a 3000 word essay.

When was that massive change, though? When did we go from 16-bit chiptunes to full streaming audio? I don’t know. You tell me. Though Tempest 2K is arguably the weakest of the three examples, all these games were released within a few years of each other. One of these three consoles went on to be the most successful and popular. That was the PS1, Sony’s brainchild and the reason why they’re associated with inexplicably expensive consoles to today’s youth, instead of inexplicably overpriced TVs.

I dare you to find better voice acting.

The PS1 began to carry titles that were ordinarily on other consoles. Popularised by clever marketing and a games library that was almost on the level of our beloved Nintendo, the sound quality only aided its conquest, and perhaps heralded the beginning of the end of the advancement of sound in games. In a short ten years, sound had gone from grumbling chirps and droning tones to fully voiced games, with multi-channel music. Games had licensed music, such as WipEout playing The Prodigy’s Firestarter.

THROUGH THE FIRE AND THE FLAMES WE CARRY OOOOONNN

That was in 1999. So, eleven years later, have there been any advancements in sound that even compare? I would dare you to name one game that has shown any great, revolutionary and significant advancements in sound quality within the last 10 years. We have greater capacity for sound, thus greater quality sound, and a larger quantity of it than before, yes. There are entire games revolving around sound itself. But the technology itself? Compare it to the PS1, and there’s no major revolutions since then.

Possibly the best soundscape you'll ever hear.

So where does this leave us? There are no forseeable advancements in audio technology within the next decade, what can we do?

Simple. By having the same quality sound we get from our CD, mp3, and archaic minidiscs, we have opened up a door to a world of experimentation so large, so infinite, that from here, we go wherever we want in audio. We have all the instruments of the world, all the guitars of metal, and we still have the nostalgic blips of the 8-bit and 16-bit eras. We can do what we want, and create soundscapes more diverse than ever capable before. We can create epic, orchestral music. We can evoke so many emotions and immerse our players in worlds by the flavour of the sound alone. Even handheld consoles boast impressive sound these days.

I’m not saying that chiptunes are obsolete. Even they have their place in indie games, retro-style games, and in quirky, fun music. As well as all this, they continue to live on. But how we create our music and sound has never been more diverse, nor has it ever been so essential than it is today.

But they’ll never beat the thrill of getting through Jetpac.

People frequently ask me “Why do you still play EVE?”. It’s a good question, really. What does a person like me see in Spreadsheets Online? I frequently try and explain what I like about the gameplay or its aesthetics. Then I realise it was never about the game I played.

Keira rubbed at her temples as the ship’s computer fervently alerted her that the shields had been depleted. In fact, it would not stop alerting her that the  shields had been depleted. She’d got the armour reppers working not thirty seconds ago.

“I know the bloody shields are offline you stupid computer!” she snapped at no control screen in particular. “This is Amarrian technology, the shields are supposed to fail!” she added quickly, a hand slamming onto the recliner she loosely defined as the ‘captain’s chair’.

Eventually the sirens abated as Ragtath, the behemoth of a creature working in gunnery shot down the last of the measly Gallente assaulting her beloved ship, the Starcatcher. Its name was ironic at best, being that it was a mere Prophecy-class battlecruiser. Not even Titan-class ships were that close to the size of a sun.

“Fork, what’s the damage?” she grumbled into her comms device. Pitchfork, or ‘Fork’ as he was affectionately referred to by the rest of the small crew was as exotic as their gunner. It seemed at times that Keira was the only normal member of the ship, and captain at that.

“Minimal, Miss Raugan.” Pitchfork’s raspy voice came back over the tinny speakers. “Nothing the reppers won’t take care of or money won’t fix.” he added. The sigh of relief sounded through all the speakers in the ship as Keira slouched further back into the chair. The whole ship seemed to relax with the capsuleer, perfectly synced with the Amarrian.

Keira rummaged in one of the secreted pockets of her jacket, procuring a tiny phial. Minuscule, barely the length of her thumb, and with an equally delicate eyedropper inside it. Unscrewing the cap, Keira shakily squeezed two drops from it into her mouth. She grimaced at its bitter taste as it slowly, slowly trickled down her throat, but relaxed soon after. Screwing the cap back on with infinitely more laxness than she had undone it, she tucked it back into her pocket.

“You really gotta stop takin’ that stuff.” a calm, old voice rumbled. If she had the capacity, she would have jumped.

“And have a heart attack? Nu-uh. I’m gonna live this life, even if it kills me.” she chuckled back, the effects of the drug taking effect.

The voice chuckled, leaning on the back of her chair. “So, now that you’re done harrassing the Gallente..?” he asked, looking down at the young pilot. However relative a term that was for the immortal capsuleers.

“Home, Ragtath. Set a course for Eskunen X, Moon 13.” she lazily replied. Within a few moments, the ship was tearing across Outuni at a modest 4AU a second. Opening her eyes to look at the blocky, blue-lit Caldari gate, there was a pang of longing for the elegant structures of Amarr. But she wouldn’t go back if she could help it.

“Break a leg, Miss Raugan.” Fork rasped. There was a rumble, a flash of blinding, familiar light, and then that blissful floating sensation that came with gate jumps.

Captain Keira Raugan, escaped Amarrian rogue, daughter of the executed convict James Raugan.

I took a breath. A well-needed one. I don’t know how much time had passed, but the sun had long since dipped below the horizon, and my stomach finally notified me that I was hungry. I stared at the screen numbly, the Starcatcher floating in space next to the Eskunen-Outuni gate, the deafening shouting and chatter of the ship’s crew not even a quiet whisper in my mind.

I realised at that point no other game immerses me to the point where things are played out in my head, right down to friendly crew banter, or my character’s budding drug addiction. Not EQ, not WoW, not AoC…nothing compares. I start to wonder if anything will.

And that is why I play EVE Online.

This is pretty much a direct copy of a discussion I had with a couple of friends a few days ago, in class. I figured it would be fairly at home here, since it’s relevant to the interests of most of my readers (all two of you).

The discussion was, well, see above. But not just the seemingly rising retail prices of those games, and how much of a dent they put into your pocket, but how much of a dent they put in the developer’s pocket. Take, for example, the original Wolfenstein 3D. You know, Wolfenstein 2.5D. To the experienced builders, rooms would take no longer than a few minutes, and add 3-4 minutes of gameplay on, depending on the size or skill of the player. This game had hours upon HOURS of gameplay to offer, or just a few scant minutes to the skilled. It had the added benefit of only requiring one or two people max to create these rooms, and back then, their payment was in pizza.

Games today now cost themselves in the millions, and with more and more dollars added to that total every day. Faster still with the advent of 3D TVs, and DirectX11. More people are needed for building just one room, which requires not only more money, but more _time_. Concept artists, modelers, animators, texture-artists…Those 20 minutes spent in creating a room in the old Doom engine now take hundreds of  hours in a newer, shinier engine. And I’m speaking professionally, not in the modding community where “sub-par” is often acceptable.

I’m unsure if it’s me getting older or better, but when I was younger I could spend weekends upon weekends of playing a game, and still never get to its end. Now I buy games, and within just eight short hours, I’ve completed them. The tradeoff is clear and immense. Less gameplay for better graphics. I appreciate those graphics, and I am  grateful to those who have put their man-hours into creating it, but I can’t help but feel cheated when I complete a game in the same weekend I buy it.

The question I’m getting to, is this: Can games continue to advance graphically at this rate, when the gameplay-to-man-hours tradeoff is so clear? Or have we finally hit a point where it’s not financially possible for developers or gamers to continue down this line? With DirectX11, have we hit a point of “too much”, where the hours and people needed, and the sheer cost will eventually have us playing games that can be completed in five hours, or games that will take ten years to develop?

Consoles, and to an extent, PCs, have always followed the same hardware price curve, and that’s not what I’m worried about. What I’m worried about is the time it takes to create games, and if that now, is truly worth its cost.

Whoa, hey there 2010. Nice of you to sneak up on me like that.

I guess I decided a while back that this year would be affectionately nicknamed 20goto10, just for the sake of nerdiness. In a way, I think of it as a chance to rewind and go back, perhaps “do over” some mistakes I’ve made, or perhaps go back to a time where I wasn’t a paranoid, neurotic and skittish person.

2009? …it. It kinda sucked. For me, at least. I guess in some ways it was better than 2008, but worse in others. Tough couple of years! But I think this is the year where it all starts going well.

But enough of my personal life for now.

I got to thinking, a while back. I mean, that’s all I really ever do, but I digress. If at any point, you had the ability to go back in time and change one thing, one thing only, what would you do? Would you even do anything?

There are so many points in my life I would jump at the chance to change for the better, yet the more I think on them, the less I want to. Each moment, bad or good, defines me and who I am. Even the ones that make me as misanthropic and neurotic as I am today.

Would I, or anybody truly go back and change any part of their own life, knowing the gigantic, and potentially catastrophic results they could yield from one change? Big or small, that day you got pushed by a bully into a nettle patch, the day you hit your head, your first ex…could you really change it?

I know I for one, wouldn’t change a thing. But I’d still take the chance to go back. Why? Just so I could see the happy times again, and smile.