I pride myself on being caught up with the “canon” of video games, but there are a ton of gaps in my knowledge for most games released before the Xbox 360.

I was 10 when the 360 first dropped and before that released I was obsessed with the PSP when it came out. The PS2 and original Xbox were my treasures as a kid, but I didn’t really play new releases - just whatever we could rent from Blockbuster, burn onto discs for our hacked PS1 or get from GameStop’s “Buy two get one free” deal, when games were still affordable. My brother and I weren’t really Halo guys until we got a 360 but we played just about everything else.

For most of my childhood, I played games that came out the week before and games that came out years before I knew they existed. There wasn’t really a need or want to be current or up-to-date. Kingdom Hearts 2 didn’t matter to me when it came out because I never finished the first one (FUCK that Tarzan level, dude), but you’ll be damn sure I had Mortal Kombat: Armageddon on launch day and left school early to play it.

My brother and I were dumbfounded when our mom came back home, after staying in Florida for work, and surprised us with an Xbox 360 (Pro edition, you plebs), Perfect Dark Zero (laggy as hell but we played a lot against the bots), NBA 2K6 (I never touched this but my brother did) and Kameo (much better for Rare nostalgia than actual gameplay).

I have pretty much kept up with every new release since 2005, even the bad ones, as I wanted to be aware of everything in gaming. We still did the GameStop deals and we still bought whatever looked fun, like the 3D Castlevania games or Spec Ops, but I wanted to keep up with the real hard hitters and “important” games like Halo 3, GTA V, Bioshock and smaller gems like Hotline Miami.

One place I had a lot of fun, before I became more of a “modern” gamer, was the PS1 and the Dreamcast. My mom used to have a friend that gave us an Action Replay, which let us cheat on any game, and burned any game we wanted onto a disc for either system like we did the PS1. Name a PS1 or Dreamcast game and I’ve probably played it - the Pac-Man 3D platformers, Metal Gear Solid’s VR missions, Tekken 3, Soul Caliber, Ridge Racer, Sonic Adventure, Cool Boarders, the really crappy Looney Tunes games, Toy Story … my discernment was terrible but my hunger for games was palpable.

But, due to my unlimited access to pretty much every game, some bigger games flew under my radar or - in the case of Final Fantasy VII (1997) - way over my head.

I was not really a JRPG person until I played Persona 4: Golden on the PlayStation Vita when I was 16. I thought they were boring and didn’t see the point in turn-based battles and long cutscenes in between. I preferred Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion, Fallout 3 and Skyrim. I got to shoot and hit things in real-time and cutscenes were actually interactable. More stimulation = more fun in my teenaged brain.

I played Final Fantasy XIII but I bounced off of it immediately, despite liking the graphics, the setting and the characters. The actual gameplay bored me to tears before I could finish it even after I got a couple of the cooler summon spells. I always thought Final Fantasy was cool to look at but I never liked playing it. My brother sang the praises of Final Fantasy X, but I didn’t listen because I was, like, 6-years-old when it came out and stupid.

But, Persona 4 was different. The vibrant and loud setting, excellent voiceovers, anime art style and darker tone of the murder mystery-based main story pulled me in and the gameplay loop made me stay until I was finally done with it 100 hours later. I spent a good chunk of my senior year of high school carving through that game.

Then I hopped to Persona 3: Portable, then Final Fantasy X, since there was a Vita version released around that time and then the Tales series. FFX ended up being my favorite in the series, period.

I was hooked on JRPGS, period, but I never went back to play anything I missed that wasn’t immediately accessible. We did not own a legit copy of FFVII and our booklet of pirated PS1 discs was trapped in a closet somewhere in my mom’s house.

So, 14 years after I got bit by the JRPG bug, I decided to try FFVII. It’s not bad so far. I have a lot more appreciation for the genre, but also a lot less time to spare, so let’s see how this goes.

(Spoilers for a 19-year-old game, FFVII, below)

After about 10 hours with it, I can say that Final Fantasy VII has aged quite well, despite the, at times, unintelligible character models and poor original translations.

FFVII is available on damn near every console now - Xbox, PC, smartphones, etc. - with smoothened visuals and quality of life improvements like speeding up battles. I am not playing that version, but rather the PSOne classics version on Vita, which is a 1:1 port of the game from PS1. No skipping around, no smoothened pixels and the original screen ratio. I’m going full caveman.

Despite my earlier hang-ups on JRPGs, FFVII starts out strong and quickly with Cloud and the gang getting right to work and bombing a nuclear reactor that’s sapping energy from the planet. Characters are explained as the game goes on but the roles are pretty simple - Barrett is the charismatic, tough-as-nails leader of Avalanche, their eco-terrorism group. Cloud is the seasoned soldier with iffy memory. Tifa is the skilled fighter with a mouth, second-in-command and potential love interest for Cloud.

Hijinks ensue, sexual tension is had and the reactor is blown up. But, Cloud ends up plummeting straight to earth after a boss explodes. Cloud lands in a church, meets his other girlfriend and then proceeds to dirty mack despite her ex being his dead friend. Cloud also cross-dresses for plot reasons, does some squats in a gym, has a few bouts of amnesia and eventually blows up another reactor with the squad. There are a few more flashbacks, some terrible platforming and a talking dog shows up in a horror-like section. Then a guy who might as well be a horror movie villain - Sephiroth - gets his backstory put on full-display.

Botched clones, razed village, false memories, etc. Then there’s a parade that definitely doesn’t feel Nazi-ish and a boat ride to a port where we could drink our cares away. I’m not going to waste time on telling the story in-depth - most people besides me know it already - but that’s the gist of how far I have gotten.

FFVII feels as whimsical and simultaneously serious as the other FF games I’ve played, even FFXVI. Characters have gone to war, lost family and are on a mission to save the planet from an evil corporation. But they still have time to put skirt on, sneak into parades dressed as soldiers and flirt with other party members between battles. The game is constantly ping-ponging Cloud between Aeris and Tifa while reminding the player that an ethereal devil is chasing them while they are blowing up nuclear reactors powered by gods killed by humanity’s hubris. It’s a fun, lighthearted, stressful mood.

The player is plopped into a slice of these characters’ lives on earth, arguably the most important slice, and has the pieces given to them over time as characters grow beyond their initial impressions. Tifa is in love with Cloud and grew up with him. Cloud defected from the military following his encounter with Sephiroth and the environmental crisis. Aeris is trying to find purpose. Barrett is trying to keep it together and appear as a confident leader despite his teammates getting more insane every day and each mission not going exactly according to his plan.

So far, I am shocked how well this game has aged considering it’s in the middle of a three-part remake (or sequel?) on modern consoles. Of course it doesn’t look real but the storytelling is top notch despite that. Dialogue is hilarious, with character dialogue wasting no time on miscellaneous lines.

Character models are very involved, with characters hugging, fist bumping, slicing and throwing each other. Comedy is a huge factor in most cutscenes, with Cloud being made the butt of a joke or everyone having an exaggerated reaction to exposition. Characters shout and hop around to express more than their faces and polygonal limbs ever could. I’m hooked, even if nothing is even close to HD.

Faces are damn-near unreadable, but you can sense the urgency in Barrett when he storms out of rooms or the disappointment Cloud felt when Sephiroth BURNED HIS HOME VILLAGE TO DEATH and he shakes his head.

I finally “get” Sephiroth now. He is terrifying and complicated, but mostly terrifying. I’ve seen and heard about the One-Winged Angel in just about every piece of media at this point - movies, references in TV shows, Super Smash Bros. and some of my favorite songs. But, I didn’t get it - he just seemed like a generic anime villain with a cool design.

Sephiroth’s shock at his origin as an inorganic freak created from the genes of dead gods would send anyone into a meltdown. You can feel his anger as he paces up and down the library in Nibelheim, his fury when he’s smacking containers with failed freaks floating in goo that might as well be his brothers and sisters. He’s pissed and like any good villain he takes it out on the entirety of mankind after considering himself separate from us. He’s cruel, reactionary, powerful and spiteful. His theme, in all of its MIDI glory, is actually terrifying to me after watching Nibelheim burn at 1 a.m. as I played the game in bed.

I find myself thinking about FFVII every time I put it down until I pick it up again, especially after getting to the open world. What is the real deal with Cloud’s memory of events? Why did he imagine Tifa getting chopped up if she barely does, but can’t remember his fight with Sephiroth? Why is Aeris a god’s disciple but she’s just chilling with us? Will we reach the Promised Land, or will Sephiroth reach it and kill us all first? I will find out as I play, but I want to know it all. The mystery is still intriguing even after playing blockbusters with insane twists like Metal Gear Solid 4 or Metaphor.

As for the combat, I can see the bones of what would eventually be Kingdom Hearts, FFVII Remake and even some FFXVI. Even back in ‘97, the developers were trying to move away from a combat system they had perfected already with the previous . I love the active battle system because it was trying to do something new, and it influenced pretty much every game in the series after it.

I’ll be back next week to talk more FFVII and I’m expecting to be super impressed. I love playing an old game that I am totally clueless about. So far, this one is living up to my expectations.

Thank you for reading!

Hello! I know it might seem obvious at this point to those of you that read the newsletter regularly but I am taking a short break from the newsletter.

This break is necessary so my wife and I can move to another state. While we get our bearings, please bear with me and expect posts to resume in May. Like I said, it may have been obvious, but that’s why posting slowed down so much.

Thanks so much for being understanding. In the meantime, check out my podcasts and all the old posts that are available in my archive. I’ll be back with game impressions, commentary and reviews soon.

See ya’ll in May!

*Let’s Unpack That is not dead - we just haven’t recorded in a while. We’ll be back soon.

Super Chevy Bros. - Episode 156

This week on the Super Chevy Bros., we discussed the death of WB’s multi-million dollar failure Multiversus, Oscar season and PSN’s short death. Mom is back, this time with an extended movie review and plenty of commentary. Catch another clip below and the whole episode. If you can, click the “Super Chevy Bros.” link above and visit the website with all of our podcasts. It really helps

Thanks for reading. I will be back with more posts soon.

*Let’s Unpack That is not dead - we just haven’t recorded in a while. We’ll be back soon, we promise.

Super Chevy Bros.

Chevar, Mom and I are still at it with the video games/movies/politics/TV show/variety show that we call Super Chevy Bros. Mom was missing from this episode, but Chevar and I manage to carry it to the finish line with borderline racist conversations, discussions about Monster Hunter and debates about raising the prices of video games.

Catch episode below (you can also click the link on the title above to go directly to our Acast site) and remember to subscribe, give us a good rating and, please, tell us what you think! I’ve leaked more episodes below from the last month or so, including TikTok’s shutdown, Elon Musk cheating at video games like a dork and MORE!

Thanks for reading. I will be back with more reviews, impressions and more!

Recently I began streaming video games again (follow me please, twitch.tv/superchevybiko) since I have a lot more free time and like the entertainment and interactive aspects of streaming. It reminds me of the old days of having my brother watch me, or vice versa, as I played Zelda: Twilight Princess or Skyrim late at night. Those days are long gone, but Twitch helps me restore that feeling a bit. I recommend you come through and watch me on a Tuesday or Thursday.

The first game I played on stream, and will be playing until I finish it, is Disco Elysium.

Disco is an RPG that’s a lot less like Elden Ring or Cyberpunk 2077 and way more like Dungeons and Dragons and the older Fallout games. It’s very dense in terms of dialogue, world-building, character motivations and details that seem to be hiding around every corner. It’s less about “Who do I shoot next?” and more about “Who do I speak to next?” and “How do I solve this problem?”

The core gameplay takes me back to old Sam and Max point and click games from the PS3 era, opting for a way more grounded and gritty setting steeped in politics and alternative history instead of cartoon rabbits and dogs. For example, the main character has to figure out how to get a dead, hanged body down from a tree while preserving the crime scene.

The player controls Harry (I think that’s his name? He doesn’t even know what it is), a detective who just woke up from the world’s worst hangover with a bout of amnesia in the fictional town of Martinaise, Revachol. He’s forgotten who he is, what his job is, how he’s supposed to be a detective and where his belonging’s have gone. The player is trying to re-learn everything about Harry, including his political leanings, dark past and alcoholic tendencies all while trying to solve a murder committed by the local union. Due to the amnesia, much of the game isn’t spent being a Batman-like detective since you’re trying to find things like your gun, badge and notes on the case.

While the objectives the player needs to complete are at the forefront, giving the player something to do, the artwork, characters, political history and conversations make Disco Elysium worth the time. The dialogue, mostly in the form of thoughts formed by Harry’s ego and inner dialogue, is deliciously funny when it needs to be and succinctly dark and matter-of-fact in others. Harry might stop and look at a piece of anti-cop graffiti and form his own ideological take, and it’s up to the player to choose how Harry reacts. My Harry is a mad feminist that leans far left and is focused on getting his shit together. If you look up other players’ experiences you can find players turning Harry into a right-leaning fascist or spineless centrist that’s mad the game isn’t rewarding them for being so smart and balanced.

I cannot stress this enough - this game’s voice acting, dialogue choices and branching paths are so meticulously detailed and placed in seemingly innocuous areas that end up leading to some of the funniest moments I’ve experienced in any video game. It forces the player to make Harry into a real person with real opinions based on his interactions. Sure, you can skip over the optional conversations about communism, the elite class, or racial tension, but why would you when it can lead to Harry saying something hilariously racist or too on-the-nose?

The best part about Disco is that as the layers of Harry’s life peel back and the murder case begins to unfold, your every action counts toward something. There aren’t very many non-impactful conversations as they all impact either Harry’s psyche, the outside world at large or Kim, Harry’s co-detective on the case. If the player desires, you could spend hours badgering the citizens about their point of view while forgoing the murder case altogether. It’s a playground with tons of stories, psychoanalysis and political commentary hidden in every interaction. Still, it manages to balance its serious discussion with cutting, blunt humor.

The voice acting, which was added to the game at a later date, is excellent and makes each line of dialogue punchy and meaningful. Raspy voices in Harry’s mind, hippies lugging cargo in large vans and lovelorn bartenders all have excellent performances attached to their well-written words.

If you don’t like to read or listen while gaming, this game isn’t for you, but I would still recommend giving it a shot. It’s much, much different than many popular games at the moment and it deserves its cult following.

Played on: PC

Recommended for: Avid readers, point-and-click players

Monster Train

Roguelikes are like casinos with no money, which sounds like a good thing but it is not. Yes, you are not losing money after the initial purchase but you are losing sanity each time you start a new run in whatever game it is, be it The Binding of Isaac, Hades or Slay the Spire. In exchange for not draining your pockets, the roguelike genre steals the player’s sanity, leaving them with dreams of how their last run could have worked, what items they should try next and why the Balatro shop didn’t give them a good item all afternoon. I’ve made a video about this before, you can watch it below.

This game works about the same way. For those uninitiated, you start with a chosen faction with its own unique champion and set of cards, complete with defense and attack values and special abilities, before fighting enemies in turn-based combat. After each fight, the player chooses a branching path to travel down, offering different rewards depending on which path they choose. The goal is to complete a certain amount of battles without losing all of your health.

But, Monster Train is more metal than Slay the Spire, another very popular card-based roguelike. The art is more thorny and fantastical, including a cast of cannibalistic ghouls, giant Hulk-like plants and cute imps that can be sacrificed. The player’s goal isn’t as simple as beating the big boss or getting to the end of the tower to fight your dad - you are helping the denizens of Hell itself return to their home after being kicked out by what are essentially angels. You are controlling a train with the Pyre in it, which is used to restore the flames of Hell so you can gain control of your home again. When battle occurs, the angels enter the train, going up floor-by-floor to destroy the Pyre and stop your journey. It’s a bit demented - in a good way - and makes the game feel a little more like a reverse-tower defense game as the player is defending more than they are attacking.

What sets it apart from Slay the Spire and other deck-builder roguelikes is the variety of builds and decks to be made. Playstyles change significantly, with one faction meant to tank damage, another meant to aggressively attack the enemy and another focused on debilitating status effects meant to slow the enemy down. Factions can supplement other factions with spell cards as well, which provides even more variety in playstyles. The game is also tough as nails after the first couple of successful runs: enemies will steamroll your first floor with massive damage on the first turn, other times they will skip floors if they are not defeated immediately.

Each run leaves the player with a choice - be overly aggressive or overly defensive? Is it worth it to leave the Pyre unprotected near the top level? Or is it more worth it to overload the first floor with allies to stomp enemies as soon as they enter the train? The action is complimented by smooth animations and grunts from the human-like angels and the wronged devils. Monster Trains sets itself apart with these little stylistic choices as well, leaning into over the top visuals and humor rather than a gritty aesthetic. It’s worth at least a few hours of your time.

Why am I talking about it now, though? The game originally released in 2020 and has been on PC and most consoles since then as well. Unfortunately, I was informed that the game was on iOS (as of Sept. 2024) by my brother and my life hasn’t been the same for at least a month.

Don’t do roguelikes kids. Not even once.

Played on: iOS

Recommended for: Roguelike enjoyers, Magic the Gathering players

Mortal Kombat 1

I am no stranger to Mortal Kombat 1. At all. I have played this game more than any other game since it came out in 2023. I have competed in multiple tournaments. I am constantly defending this game online from a weird hate campaign that is implying that no one is playing the game (an assumption based solely on entrance numbers for competitive tournaments). I love Mortal Kombat. It is one of my favorite video game series of all time.

Still, I actually hadn’t touched the game for a little over a month despite entering a tournament in March. I loaded up the game, picked a newer character I wanted to learn (Noob Saibot) and proceeded to get my ass kicked to high hell for, like, two hours.

Don’t get it twisted: I don’t consider myself bad at Mortal Kombat or even below average. I’m nice, dammit. My Scorpion has made grown men turn their PS5 off. I know what I’m doing - but I am rusty. My first serious session back was a test of patience - trying not to mutter to myself about how my opponent is a scumbag in between texts to my brother about how much of a scumbag they are. My combos were lacking, my defense was nonexistent and I was impulsive with my decision-making. After several losses in a row, including the additional gory insults that the Fatalities, Brutalities and recently added Animalities provide at the end of matches, I was fuming. Not only was I humiliated, I was literally mutilated.

I had to find a way to stay calm and make my mind still for the next match. I took breaks, I meditated, I vented and I practiced before going back into the fray a couple of days later. I still got my ass kicked, but I was able to learn more than before since I was not seeing blood the entire time. The game’s new replay feature, which lets players take control of recently played matches in order to practice, also let me see why some moves were more effective against me than others. Fighting games, specifically competitively, are more about staying calm than anything else.

I’m proud to say that my losing streak has ended. I still have a long way to go in terms of practicing character matchups, learning how other characters work and tightening up combos, but I have made a huge improvement.

Now, let’s just hope I’m ready for Texas Showdown in March.

Played on: PS5

Recommended for: Fighting game players, gorehounds

One of my favorite hypothetical situations spawned by the internet is the classic question about rappers and social media: what if Biggie and Tupac had beef over Twitter? Even simpler: What if Biggie and Tupac had Twitter?

The obvious answer, to me, at least, is that those two wouldn’t be held in nearly as high of regard if they had super computers in their hands that would let them type whatever to their millions of followers. The two already had a few hardcore lyrics that wouldn’t fly as easily today, so you can already imagine the pointless comment threads about what Biggie’s friend did to that kid before throwing him over a bridge or why 2Pac told us his mom was a crackhead. They’d undergo the same scrutiny they did as black men in the 1990s, just on a wider stage with the chance to embarass themselves willingly. Thank God neither one of them ever even knew what an iPhone was.

Wale said it the best about 16 years ago:

Unfortunately, every rapper in the modern age has access to phones and social media. Despite publicists and PR reps, nowadats rappers somehow let us know just how dull or self-obsessed as often as they can. Kanye lets us know just how much he reads right-wing media, claiming he’ll go “defcon 5” on the jews (that’s not how defcon works, by the way), Nicki Minaj told us about her relative’s balls being swollen due to the COVID vaccine (definitely not real) and, more recent and more humorous, Fivio Foreign threw a fit because a much more famous Twitch streamer asked him not to smoke in an Air BnB.

Rappers, and celebrities in general, have always been corny. For every Dr. Umar adjacent rapper there is a Dax Shephard declaring that centrism is the way. For every Kanye there are about five Joe Rogan’s spreading misinformation on a weekly basis to millions of listeners. These are the times we live in. Still, I wish talented artists like JPEGMAFIA would shut up sometimes and put the phone down.

JPEGMAFIA, or known as Peggy for short (I’m not calling him that), is the abrasive, noisy, hilarious rapper that gained traction in the mid 2010s. His in-your-face personality, tendency to push the envelope with politically charged songs and motifs has made him a cult favorite as he’s built his own loyal fanbase. With titles to songs like “Black Ben Carson,” “I cannot fucking wait until Morrisey dies” and “I Just Killed A Cop Now I’m Horny,” he’s established his radical point of view clearly upfront.

While his messaging is clear when he speaks, the instrumentals of his self-produced projects is where he shines as it compliments his voice and aggressive bars in no way any other production could with loud electric guitars, dirty south bass (and samples), noise-based snares, crunchy drums and distorted synths. JPEG is also chronically online, so his samples include meme material galore, with sounds from CounterStrike, Nintendo commercials, wrestling intros and a clip from the show Succession. His aesthetic choices pull from 90s nostalgia, video games and the internet, specifically the PlayStation 1 and manga.

I Lay Down My Life For You doesn’t stray far from JPEG’s usual themes, this time adding more distorted guitar, grungy synths and contrasting them with sticky loops, an understated RnB sampling track and gospel samples. He still has lyrics that stick in your brain, like when he call’s Freddie Gibb’s baby momma rap snack or hilariously eulogizes Aaron Carter. The inspiring tone of parts of the album come more from the instrumentation than the lyrics, something that JPEG still hasn’t evolved from for at least five years.

The verses all contain the same whining about generic haters, loathing the industry at large, making fun of the usual rap tropes, white people bashing and telling us he’s the greatest. Sometimes it hits, like SIN MIEDO’s first line (YOU NIGGAS IS BITCHES I DON’T WANT TO KICK IT). It wouldn’t be bad if the wordplay got better but all that changes is the updated meme references to Jonathan Major’s domestic dispute and the Drake/Kendrick beef. Most of the tracks on ILDMLFY have a tone of anger and determination that is washed away when JPEG starts a verse complaining about internet comments, dissing an ex, or trashing unnamed detractors. As much as he hates Drake, JPEG’s lyrical content is the same except with more memes and more clowning on white people. The bragging works when he’s joking, referencing current events, or exaggerating his destructive tendencies and less when he’s trying to convince us that he has enemies or haters. All-in-all, he needs to find a new topic.

But who knows if he can, since JPEG feeds into negativity easily and often. JPEG tweets and deletes constantly either defending himself for working with white supremacist loving Kanye West, discussing his hate for white people at large, discussing his love for his white fans, Freddie Gibbs, and declaring himself above everything else or below everything else. He comes off as sensitive, bitter and insecure to the point where enjoying his music is easier if you’ve never seen his Twitter. It’s like Meek Mill with less fries on his legs in a pool and more angsty teenager. He most recently said Pitchfork, a publication who regularly gives his albums great reviews, should stop covering him since they are “nasty hipsters.” It’s not that he’s necessarily wrong about his strong opinions, but it comes off that he’s unaware that most of his fanbase are white hipsters and doesn’t realize how it comes off to them and everyone else watching to diss something that praises him constantly.

Even with the annoying online tendencies of its creator, ILDMLFY is still a solid album with an angry, black soul at its helm. The imaging he’s built for the project is intriguing, with American flags and crosses contrasting with black leather and dark skies. The production is like no other, with some beats getting stuck in my head more often than any of the lyrics. Even the one rapper featured, Vince Staples, is drowned out by JPEG’s excellent flip of “Senorita” by Staples, which also samples a Future song to create this weird, demented, ouroboros-like tone to the whole track. The man can create thought provoking, mind bending art like this entire project easier than some rappers can put together a few bars. He uses a 2LiveCrew sample to create a crazy song, SIN MIEDO, that sounds like a wrestler’s intro on acid. It’s unheard of and executed perfectly.

JPEG is a gifted rapper and producer. My wife and I have seen him two years in a row for tours surrounding this album and his (also excellent) collab album with Danny brown in 2023. His breakout album, Veteran, showed me that anger toward an unjust nation can create mesmerizing art when focused in that direction. He’s proud and confident on stage and definitely has love for his diverse fanbase, which consists of every kind of person from trans girls in platform boots and leather jackets to couples from the burbs and teenagers moshing while their mom watches from afar. His music connects to other people who feel downtrodden and discarded or underappreciated. It’s violent and explosive, a perfect combination for cathartic screaming and headbanging.

He just needs to stop tweeting.

Favorite tracks: I scream this in the mirror before i interact with anyone, SIN MIEDO, it’s dark and hell is hot, New Black History, don’t rely on other men, vulgar display of power, either on or off the drugs.

(A deluxe version of this album comes out next week - this is one of the newer tracks.)

Growing up, there was always a conversation around hip-hop concerning women, specifically that there weren’t very many female rappers. It wasn’t entirely true - there were plenty of women rapping, they just weren’t getting shine outside of the usual suspects like Da Brat, Lil’ Kim, Lauryn Hill, Foxy Brown, Eve and Queen Latifah. It’s not that these women didn’t make an impact or waves in the game - in fact it was the exact opposite and they are considered some of the all-time greats. But, they were just outnumbered by the, in comparison, enormous amount of men in the genre taking all of the shine.

Due to several factors, be it misogyny or lack of faith in women, many female rappers didn’t get their shine or praise until years later like Remy Ma or Gangsta Boo. Fast forward to 2025 and the entire rap game has changed, with women getting more of their deserved praise from the industry and fans alike due to changed opinions and the access to the genre given by the internet. Mixtapes can be posted at a whim on Soundcloud and if the right person finds you, or you know the right people, you can get put on.

While this ease of access and publicity has led to countless frauds and untalented losers entering the rap game (I’m looking at you Post Malone and Yung Gravy), it has also given a shot at stardom to female talent that might never have had a chance in the early 2000s. Due to the internet’s symbiotic relationship to rap, several acts broke through, most notably Nicki Minaj in the late 2000s. The door she opened back then led to other acts like Cardi B, Megan Thee Stallion and, most recently, Doja Cat and GloRilla.

In between now and then, the underground scene has been bubbling with talent as even more women brought bars and lyrical talent to the table. Enter TiaCorine, who had a viral hit in 2022 with “FreakyT,” a Memphis-flow borrowing and has had a steady, understated rise since. The 32-year-old from North Carolina is an amalgam of what makes a good, fun rapper. She uses a spectrum of zany, goofy voices and flows that travel from California to New York to Tennessee and then all the way back.

She is obsessed with anime, adopting a “kawaii” style of her own centered around pink, purple and other colors found in a bag of skittles. She has lyrics that make you do a double take (Did she just say his dick needs a pep talk?) and think about them for the next few weeks. She’s really fun, but with heart and a clear vision for what a TiaCorine song should sound like. The few features that there are, including Key Glock and Luh Tyler, do their job and leave Tia to wrap the rest of the track up. The dreamy “Yung Joc,” which opens the tape, has a dreamlike quality to it, contrasting the absurd non-sequiter bars about making babies, making cash and wondering why her man can’t fuck with his socks off. “Blick” is exactly what it sounds like, with a beat that sounds like Tia and Glock are chasing you down with said blick for two minutes. When I saw her in concert last year, she brought out a water gun during “Blick” and drenched the crowd.

In 2025, I hope we see a lot more from TiaCorine and more female rappers in general. She fills the lane of the genre where it’s not all about explaining yourself or rationalizing why she, or other women, deserve to be in hip-hop. Tia isn’t proving herself. She’s already on her way to where she wants to be.

Favorite tracks: Yung Joc, Olive, Bonnet, Shamone.

HONEY! HONEY! NEW OVERWATCH CLONE JUST DROPPED!

Marvel Rivals, for the uninitiated, is a 6-on-6 objective and team based shooter released back in December 2024. It had been teased since 2023 and had beta tests in 2024, but now the full game is officially out and receiving glowing impressions and recommendations. This is one of those.

If you read, “6-on-6 team based shooter” and thought about Overwatch, then you may not be shocked to read that this is basically the same game but with Marvel characters and a third-person perspective.

The aesthetic is as Chinese as Overwatch’s, the objective-based missions are pulled straight from Overwatch and some character designs were even redone to be more Overwatchy. Even the sound effects for headshots, selecting options and losing health are very similar. The lobby has you choose which hero you want up front, like Overwatch. The character proportions are exaggerated even more than Overwatch, with every dude bulging with muscles and every woman carrying a wagon behind her. The biggest difference is that this game is full of Marvel heroes and villains instead of new (at the time) faces like Overwatch.

(Above: footage of a game of Rivals I played with my wife’s little brother.)

Is the game well-balanced? No. Almost every hero has something ridiculous they can do, like Jeff the Land Shark’s abysmally strong ultimate skill, where he can swallow an entire team and then throw himself off of a cliff like the world’s cutest kamikaze. Games don’t necessarily need to be balanced to be fun - that’s why so many people like season 1 of Overwatch much more than any season after. It’s chaotic, there isn’t much downtime and communication is still key, especially if you don’t want a busted hero skill wasting your entire team. It’s still a tight team-based shooter with nail biting moments almost every match. But, it also has moments where your team can get blown out completely if the other team is using well-known, overpowered tactics.

What does set Rivals apart, though, is its melee mechanics, flight and team-up bonuses. Some characters, like Magik and Iron Fist, are strictly melee-based while others have melee attacks that are more useful, and damaging, than they seem. It makes the game feel more like a brawler, like Anarchy Reigns, with more up close battles. It’s more than just a couple of characters like Reinhardt or Doomfist - it’s also more fleshed out. Other characters, like Iron Man, Storm and Dr. Strange, can fly with almost no cooldown, which seems overpowered but is countered by all of the other ridiculous things in this game. Team-up bonuses give characters new skills when paired up with other heroes from their universe or that they are known for working with in the past. For example, Squirrel Girl gets a web lasso if she teams up with Spider-Man and Hela can revive her fellow Asgardians Thor or Loki after she KOs an enemy.

The game also has more characters to choose from than Overwatch, even Overwatch 2, with more on the way since Marvel has an almost infinite pool of heroes and villains to choose from. Deadpool and others have leaked and the Fantastic 4 are dropping a couple of days from now. It provides more playstyles for more players, which is fantastic.

Overall, Marvel Rivals is fun. It scratches that “one more game” itch that every multiplayer shooter should. It hasn’t been poisoned by loot boxes, bad balance changes, changes to the core formula or bad community support like Overwatch. It’s also at the beginning of its life cycle, so it’s still fresh and has room to grow. My only gripe is that the paid costumes cost way, way too much at $20 a pop off sale. Still, those are optional and the game also has free skins to grab as well.

At the end of the day, it’s nice to play a game like Overwatch that isn’t tainted by Blizzard’s bad decisions in-game, like balance changes, and in their offices, like abused workers and toxic crunch culture. Hopefully NetEase, a former affiliate of Blizzard, can keep their noses clean too.

Here are some more similarities to Overwatch:

• Peni Parker, the alternate universe Spider-Person most known from Into the Spiderverse, is just a clone of D-VA from Overwatch. Luckily, it already fit with her mech-based powers anyway.

• Hulk’s “hulking out mechanic” is ripped from D-VA’s mech mechanic. He is weaker out of Hulk mode and starts with the ability to go straight into Hulk mode, his version of a mech.

• Squirrel Girl (a favorite of mine) is Junkrat from Overwatch, with her slingshot grenades and wheel-like acorn that she can throw.

• Luna Snow’s ultimate skill is just Lucio’s ultimate skill from Overwatch - power up the team or give them healing within a radius while going really fast. Her version is just more overpowered to the point where she is banned from competition as of this blog entry.

• Punisher and Star Lord share bits of pieces of Agent 76 - Punisher’s entire gameplan is the same, while Star Lord takes Agent 76’s ultimate skill where he auto-locks onto enemies. Otherwise, he plays very similarly to Tracer.

• Black Widow is Widowmaker with melee skills. That’s it.

• Hawkeye is Hanzo, but with more arrow options.

Portal 2

My wife and I hadn’t played a co-operative game together in a couple of months due to our recent preference for speedrunning as many TV shows as we can in between new episodes of Real Housewives. I remembered that I bought a copy of Portal 1 and 2 for the Switch. The sequel has a co-op mode that casts the players as two robots in GLaDOS’s sick tests done in the name of “science.”

I hadn’t touched this game since I was 16, so I remembered none of the puzzles but all of the mechanics and how the physics system works. My wife, Haylee, hadn’t played any of the games, but always wanted to. We hit our stride pretty well in the first few levels, using the portals in tandem while I somewhat explained to Haylee what surfaces could use portals and what buttons do in each room. Sadly, the game doesn’t have a basic tutorial to show any new players how to use the portal gun - it assumes you have played the previous game. Luckily, Haylee games pretty often so she picked up on most of the unexplained rules as we made our way through the campaign.

Portal 1 and 2 have aged gracefully, mostly because of they are simple games at least on a basic level. You shoot a portal, then shoot another portal that connects to that one. The game adds layers to each situation - first there are cubes and buttons for opening doors and maneuvering to the exit followed by lasers and enemies that can kill you. Each level, or test chamber, seems simple at first until you have to think: “How do I get that cube over here if I can’t shoot a portal over there?” “How do I launch myself that way without dying or overshooting it?” It’s a puzzle game like no other, challenging the player to break the rules of physics and space to accomplish their goal.

We finished the main campaign, which was tough enough on its own. Several puzzles require players to time slamming into each other mid-air, others had us shooting goo that makes the ground slippery for faster momentum and the last few tests were challenges in planning and communication. We had a few frustrating moments due to misunderstandings or being way too tired after playing for several hours in the middle of the night. We also kind of switched roles toward the end, with Haylee finding solutions so we could plan to execute them.

Then, we reached the bonus levels, which are included in the Portal collection on Switch but were originally downloadable back in 2011. I had not played these levels, so we officially had no clue what we were getting into. Although we have finished these levels now, it took us several sessions of solving one room, getting frustrated, then coming back the next day to finish said room quickly since we were usually only one move away from solving the puzzle. It was exhilarating, funny and angering. We cursed the developers a few times and questioned whether or not the rooms were solvable because they were screwing with us. These bonus levels are tough to crack, with some requiring you to redefine how you play the game with portals and others pushing the mechanics of the game to their limit. One puzzle was so simple that it took us longer than any other chamber because we assumed the answer was way more complicated.

Portal 2 is great and possibly one of the best puzzle games of all time, rewarding the player with plenty of “hell yes!” moments for when they finally solve a room. The robots even receive emotes at milestones in their campaign, which is really cute. But the co-op section can be a challenge, which is great if that is your thing.

System: Nintendo Switch

Rap is a booming, diverse and rapidly expanding genre with subcategories, regional distinctions and homegrown sounds that spawned in different pockets of the United States and beyond. Houston is one of the most prolific regions, trailblazing the modern swagger, slang and bass heavy boasting that has the genre in a chokehold. Grills, car culture, stoner rap, parking lot pimping and the country’s lean addiction either originated in Texas’ biggest city or came to prominence there.

There’s even a lame Juice WRLD impersonator walking around right now, Dave Blunts, who dons a purple jumpsuit and always carries a cup of lean that doesn’t even realize that he’s copying Big Moe. He even looks just like him!

Whether its UGK’s questionable lyrics about having sex with pregnant women and pimping, Slim Thug tippin’ on four 4s or Z-Ro’s introverted raps about getting money and staying out the way, the DNA of Texas rap has bled across the industry and its listeners. Along with the ladies carrying the torch, like Megan Thee Stallion and Monaleo, with boastful, explicit sexual lyrics that Chad Butler would shed a tear for, there is That Mexican OT. OT almost seems like he was grown in a lab the way he checks off the “Houston rapper” box.

Is he always talking about weed, his grill and drinking lean? Yes.

Does he have lyrics about sex that would make your mom yell at you and change the song? Yes.

Does his dark humor edge into “too far” territory regularly? Yes.

Does he mention Texas or Houston at least once a song? Yes.

Is he always alluding to his gang affiliation and (alleged) violent crimes? It wouldn’t be rap if he wasn’t.

That Mexican OT’s Texas Technician, and his last couple of albums, are a beginner’s course in Houston rap with cited sources and guest professors like Z-Ro and Paul Wall and Slim Thug. It’s nostalgiac while breathing fresh air into the scene, with OT’s rapid fire delivery making the tracks feel less like homages to a bygone era and more like a push forward for the region. It’s as if a kid I grew up with in elementary school went and made the music we used to cop in the 2000s after swinging by Big T Plaza in Dallas, turning the volume down when we listened at home because the lyrics were so rough. He literally talks about pouring lean on his pecan pie. How much more Texan could you get?

What works with Texas Technician is how it never lets up. OT’s personality is large and hard to ignore, his lyrics unforgettable and his bravado bursting from the seams. He’s less of a fan of his peers and more like the new kid on the block, easily holding his own with Paul Wall and other vets. Still, he manages to croon and don a cowboy hat occasionally to show his versatility and keep a toe in country. As long as he doesn’t Post Malone us (AKA using the genre for clout and then switching up on his fanbase immediately) then that’s cool too, I guess.

OT also brings back the Spanglish rap we haven’t seen as much since South Park Mexican went away for… well yeah. He isn’t trying to make a Good Kid MAAD city, or the next great American rap album. He’s making good car music, meant for riding slow or blasting the bass as high as it can go in the parking lot, bringing the distinct Houston sound back to the forefront. The bass is heavy, the lyrics are swaggerful and dirty and rebellious like his predecessors. If anything, OT has taken the crown as this generation’s Houston representative. While Meg and others aim for popstar status while keeping some of their Houston swag on the backburner, OT is perfectly fine exporting the druggy, funny, punchy, dirty south style that raised him, and me.

Favorite Tracks: Point Em’ Out, Bull Riding, Function, Cowboy In a Escalade, Twistin Fingers, Hola

Kendrick Lamar had a hell of a year.

He dissed one of the biggest rappers of all time and proceeded to make half of the world refer to him as a pedophile for weeks on end. The beef became the center of attention for American media, eventually dying where every pop culture reference does: SNL.

He secured the Super Bowl halftime performance from Jay-Z, the NFL’s executive director for said show, with a cheeky promo video to go with it. Then, Kendrick surprise released his first album in two years. To some, “GNX” seems more like a victory lap for his successful year rather than a long-anticipated journey like previous albums. Kendrick has always had this reputation for being “deep” since he hit the mainstream, which is what happens whenever a Black rapper raps fast, mentions more than two topics in a song, and uses words with more than three syllables. I’m convinced some of Kendrick’s biggest fans don’t even know why they like him. They just think he’s deep.

Drake referred to his music as “trying to get the slaves free” during their ongoing beef, whatever that’s supposed to mean. I don’t get it because most Kendrick songs cover the following: gang culture, Compton, telling other rappers he’s better than them, dead friends, literally trying to become 2-Pac, loving his family and reciting stories from his daily life. Apparently if you do any of those things you’re trying to be Martin Luther King Jr. He’s even told us he doesn’t want the label or to be anyone’s hero. Plainly. If you ask me, Vince Staples and Kendrick Lamar rap about the same things but Kendrick gets all the “freedom fighter” clout because he dared to perform in chains a couple of times.

Anyway, GNX is still a victory lap in some ways. DJ Mustard, the other half of the massive single “Not Like Us,” is all over the album and its biggest track “tv off.” Still, constant collaborators like Sounwave, SZA and Kamasi Washington show up like usual to set the tone with LA-grown beats, vocals and horns. No Kendrick album is void of LA homages, since the beginning, but GNX turns it up to 11 with a plethora of lesser known LA artists like AzChike, Peysoh and Lefty Gunplay. The artists do their own thing, with Kendrick acting as a compliment to their style rather than trying to force them into his box. He even uses the off-beat flow LA is known for from artists like E-40 and Drakeo The Ruler. The result is an ode to the modern LA rap scene with punchy, short verses and that signature bounce that the region is known for.

In between, though, are direct references to the Drake beef, a comment on Lil Wayne acting like a baby about not getting the Super Bowl performance , his certainty in his craft and self (I deserve it ALL) and another “heart” track to replace the poorly crafted Drake track of the same name. It’s like Kendrick steps out of the party to address the obvious before heading back into tracks like “Peekaboo” and “Dodger Blue.” “Luther” is a beautiful track using a sample from its namesake’s legendary catalogue to wonderful effect as Kendrick subdues himself and lets SZA do her thing. The bars on this thing are clever (The Black Noah, I just strangled me a goat) and at times hilarious (I HATE A NIGGA HATING ON A NIGGA AND THEY BOTH BROKE) but still, to me, not exactly something I would call “slave” music unless I literally wasn’t listening and saw Kendrick as only a dark-skinned black guy who yells in funny voices.

GNX is solid, reminding me of the execution and fun that was had with the Black Panther soundtrack, which was also heavily LA influenced. I hope no one’s brain short circuits trying to find the “message” in this one.

Favorite tracks: squabble up, luther, tv off, dodger blue, peekaboo, heart part 6.

As a man in a happy, committed marriage, breakup music usually doesn’t do much for me. It can be beautiful, abrasive and vulnerable but highly non-relatable. But, music doesn’t require the listener to relate to it to be enjoyed or appreciated. Otherwise, most music wouldn’t be worth listening to in the first place. This Anderson Paak and Knxledge (known together as NxWorries) project doesn’t need the listener to be a scumbag who lost his girl, but they will make you feel his (deserved) heartache one track at a time.

“Why Lawd?” brings the listener into a world of heartbreak, infidelity, lost pride and begging (oh, the begging!), with flashbacks of bright moments in a rocky and regretful relationship. Paak sings of being kicked out of the house, cheating, reminiscing about romantic vacations, cheating, pleading with his girl for her to stay, more cheating and telling his girl she can’t be everywhere with him all of the time. It’s all smooth as butter, with an obvious attempt at capturing 80s and 90s RnB with Paak’s charisma and Knxledge’s beat making prowess sprinkled over it. The very nostalgic, painful “FromHere” even employs Snoop Dogg for one of those old school Motown monologues towards the end of the track.

Compared to its predecessor, “Yes Lawd,” “Why Lawd?” is deeper sonically. Whereas the first album felt like Knxledge kept some beats for Paak and it just worked out, this album feels more like he made the beats for Paak. The sparse guest features do a great job of meeting the duo’s energy, with Thundercat employing his sobering, but hilarious, voice to “KeepHer,” and H.E.R.’s collaboration make me think she should pair up with Knxledge at some point too.

But, Paak carries most of “Why Lawd?” on his back. He’s less of a pimp than he was on “Yes Lawd,” personifying more of a lost, heartbroken heartbreaker who is at the end of his rope, using his pain to cry out one last time before going into isolation. He screwed up by being horrible to a good woman, so much so that even his own mom is pissed at him. The raspy delivery matches well with lyrics about gaudy vacations covering up a nasty relationship and the more self-referential tracks “Battlefield” and “86Sentra.” More important than anything, the album flows through its highs and lows with comedy, self-reflection and smooth ass vocal runs.

Considering Paak recently filed for divorce, it’s basically a cheat code that he was able to pour that energy into this project. It’s dark, but not up its own ass about being realistic about how some men treat women on a daily basis. It’s apologetic, but not martyr like at all. He knows what he did to his (fictional) girl and he’s owning up to it. If only every man who was a scumbag to women could produce music this gripping.

Favorite Tracks: 86Sentra, FromHere, KeepHer, Distractions, Daydreaming

Arguably Charli XCX’s best record, Brat was immediately embraced by the general public after its slow-burn rollout. Maybe, a little too much.

Brat condenses 2000s (and some 2010s) pop trends into a nice little package. Every base is covered, whether it’s synth driven club bops or piano ballads about vulnerable feelings. It’s well sequenced and dumb fun, with nods to the MySpace era, looks back at the heroin-chic diet habits and the 2000s favorite club drug, cocaine. It’s glitzy in some parts and full of bangers that pay homage to other pop girlies, like Marina and the Diamonds and Britney Spears, without ripping them off.

Charli is both vulnerable and closed off throughout Brat, offering bits and pieces about her thoughts on starting a family and complication with female friendships (let’s work it out on the remix) in between bumps of cocaine in the forms of pumping bass. She even takes a moment to remember her late friend SOPHIE, whose fingerprints and influence are all over this thing, in a bitter and understated song on the back half of the album. Two songs later she’s taking the listener down an audio wormhole on “B2b” (backtobacktobacktobackbackbackbackbackback) like she wasn’t about to make us cry a few minutes ago. It’s feminine, it’s brash, it’s shameless, it’s ugly, it’s fun. It’s brat.

Still, somehow the album is also the poster-child for 2024, TikTok dances, poorly written thinkpieces on “brat summer” and a failed Democratic candidate’s campaign. It’s known as the soundtrack for a derivative of “Hot Girl Summer,” another term that we manage to keep dragging throughout the 2020s, now unrelated to its originator. It’s become one of those cultural phenomena that some people may only know of because of a bad SNL joke or an overdone Twitter trend, but may never interact with otherwise.

It sucks that such a sour stench following such a good album, but Brat should be remembered for its ability to soundtrack a good Mario Kart session while carrying a DJ set all by itself. It should be remembered for the stream of concious of a chorus on “Apple” and just getting the 2000s so right. It should be remembered for its unabashed love for cocaine. It should be remembered for its heavy bass, sticky hooks and autotuned shrieking.

This is genuinely one of the best pop albums I’ve heard in years. The remix album is pretty great too.

Favorite tracks: 360, Club classics, Talk talk, Von dutch, B2b, 365

This year I’m discussing my favorite albums of 2024 in brief, quick blog entries. None of the entries are in any particular order. First up are a couple of albums I haven’t been able to stop playing in the whip.

Robb Bank$ has always been in a lane of his own, even if the lane is a Frankenstein’s monster crafted from Lil’ Wayne mixtape verses, anime protagonist power, Jamaican ancestry, the still limping corpse of Cash Money and a long history with the RVIDXR KLVN. The Floridian underground rap icon is unarguably one of the only KLVN members left to keep the sound going, still collaborating with SpaceGhostPurrp and keeping his lyrics gritty and production distorted. Bank$ manages to keep the hardcore feeling of the 2010s Soundcloud-era while curating a crisper, more focused world of his own.

“i think i might be happy,” parts 1 and 2, are somewhat of a rebirth for the artist, coming after the long anticipated “Falconia” tape based on Berserk and its main antagonist Femto. The overly dark and demonic tone is brought down to earth from its fantastical peak. ITIMBH has more reflection from Robb without the abstraction, offering instead a clear path toward self-realization. In the intro he says he “really want to get back to (himself),” which is evident in the first part literally including the cover to his debut tape, “Calendars.” Robb talks of the women discarded for attempting to plunder his riches by faking love, the rappers who are too afraid to approach him due to his image and the crew that he still represents and bleeds for, despite some of them being on shaky ground relationship-wise. It’s part flexing, part soul bearing with a tough beat behind it. He’s isolated, sometimes by choice and other times he’s left alone for his actions.

Besides the theming, the tapes are just fun. Each sample (God knows how expensive a Sade sample is) is picked specifically to honor the artist chosen, whether it be Lil’ Wayne, Wu-Tang, Sade and SpaceGhostPurrp. “Back on My Grizzy” is an ode to Da Drought 3 in the best way, with Robb’s delivery being just as punchy and evil as Wayne’s from back in the day. The Evil Empire DJ tag is legendary and drapes the tape in nostalgia while the songs songs morph into one another. Robb’s charisma and ease of delivery show his time in the game, bouncing on upgraded beats from the 2000s. It’s gross, with Diddy part mentions and your girl kidney swallowing stones, while also being poignant as Robb memorializes XXXTentacion and other friends lost in recent years on “RIP Montana.”

These tapes are tough. No beat is a throwaway and each run through reveals a new punchline for mean mugging or cracking up. Robb Bank$ has built his brand brick-by-brick and these tapes are him at his most focused and satisfied. He’s still not ready to show us who he really is, with bravado and machismo always at the forefront. But, he’s trying.

Favorite Tracks:

Hate Crime

Baby Tunechi

Koffing

Girl Vlone

In My Sleep

PB&J

Let’s Unpack That

Let’s Unpack That is back for the first time in almost six months. Life got in the way, but we are soooo back. Listen to Cal and I talk about what we’ve been playing, our newest favorite manga and anime and catch up on Berserk with us as we continue The Lost Children arc.

Super Chevy Bros.

Thank you for reading and listening! We really, really appreciate it and it would be amazing if you could like the podcasts, subscribe and leave us a rating if you can. Again, thank you all so much!

Super Chevy Bros. is also back in motion after we took a brief break due to personal family issues. This week Chevar, Mom and I talk about last week’s big (albeit stupid) event: The Mike Tyson v. Jake Paul fight. Then we jump into things that actually matter, like the latest video game news and The Rock pissing into bottles when he’s on set for movies.

See you soon.

We had not exactly been sleeping in the first two days of the festival, but waking up early on the last day was urgent since my wife’s little sister was joining us for the last day of Austin City Limits 2024 and we had to pick her up from the airport.

We took our dog Diamond on a walk before heading out to pick up The Teenager ™ from the local airport. The only reasonably priced food we would encounter for the rest of the day was Whataburger along with lattes from a Dutch Bros. Coffee that two other hotel residents told us was close (it was 20 minutes away by car) and the In-n-Out that we would end our night with.

After some idling at the hotel due to housekeeping being needed urgently (it’s Diamond’s fault), all three of us headed to the same shuttle spot we had used the last two days. While we were staunchly in bodyguard mode due to a younger sibling being in our presence, the day somehow started off less taxing than the previous two. Shuttle hopping went smoothly, no ones bag got raided by security and before we knew it we were checking out plants for sale, posing with bedazzled Jeeps and gawking at the amount of merch that had already sold out compared to yesterday.

We got to Zilker much earlier than we expected, which left us plenty of time to get up close and personal for Misterwives.

The New York-based indie band has been a constant in the scene for at least a decade, to the point where lead singer Mandy Lee might as well be the first result that comes up when one Googles “female indie pop singer,” although she doesn’t. Her voice, which is reminiscent of that one Vine about indie singers, combines with piano riffs, synths from straight from the 80s and understated electric guitars to create a distinctly inspiring and simultaneously moody vibe throughout their catalogue. Ballads from the 2010s about being an individual and forging a new path sit alongside songs addressing insecurities and the desire to be true to oneself. Pretty layered for a band formed because the lead singer wanted her own 80s cover band.

Mandy kept the crowd clapping along to the beat of songs from their newer album, a remix version of their 2023 album “Nosebleeds,” delaying the inevitable return to their original hits from the mid-2010s to the end of the show. Mandy also kept the energy up for the entire crowd, basically running a marathon around the stage as her raspy, but booming, voice graced the microphone.

The crowd was incredibly into the performance, screaming back lyrics and jumping up and down at the Misterwives’ command. The group of guys in front of us were having more fun than anyone, hanging onto each other with beers in hand and congratulating one friend for bringing them to ACL. The energy was perfect for the first show of the day, although I did feel bad for the Chappell Roan fan next to me who lost her disco ball earring when one of the crowd’s jumping fits happened. The highlight of the show was the band dedicating “Superbloom” to a fan in the front row who had just beaten cancer before ACL.

The more inspiring songs I mentioned before - “Reflections” and “Our Own House,” finished the tail end of the set as Mandy thanked Austin for being a great crowd. I personally became a much bigger fan, even as I realized I had already been listening to the band pretty consistently since I was in college. Misterwives put on a fantastic show worthy of their decade-long tenure in indie pop with one of the more exciting sets of the day.

Throughout the day, Haylee and I were observing all of the Chappell Roan fans that suddenly popped up. We saw pink cowboy hats ranging from Party City-chic to genuine leather goods. We peeped plenty of beat down, carefully thrifted-then-painted cowboy boots alongside shiny pairs of boots fresh out of the plastic, only to be worn to Chappell Roan shows. Most of the gear was definitely bought days before the show. The tackiness resembled a poor man’s representation of Beyonce’s Renaissance era, chance to cosplay in pink and white as preparation for being shoulder to shoulder, hat to hat with thousands of others who did the same to hear 80s karaoke but cool.

This crowd was completely lost on Haylee’s little sister, who wasn’t paying much attention when we had repeatedly warned her about the crowd all day and showed her several videos of the fanatics lined up outside of the festival four hours before the park opened. It was only when we stopped to eat that she remarked on the scandalous outfits surrounding us, including the shirtless men barely wearing anything and the pink and white corsets with nothing underneath paired with oversized boots from Goodwill. Keep in mind - she had also missed the man with assless chaps at Misterwives that was right in front of us for half of the set. She pays attention to the essentials only. I miss being a teenager.

After refueling on sliders and an acai bowl that was getting warmer by the minute, we decided to take it easy and watch Orville Peck from a distance on our blanket while draping our heads with cooling towels. Peck had taken the internet and indie critics’ hearts in the late 2010s, specifically with his album “Pony.” The masked South African country crooner was already a breath of fresh air for the genre, which has been notorious for its stale, alcohol fueled, melodramatic mainstream schlock written by the same few writers (Miranda Lambert, Luke Combs and others) for the last 10 to 20 years. Instead of promoting his beer of choice, an F-150 or self-destructive partying, Peck meditates on cowboys finding love with each other, drag queens, the lonely life of a drifter and other tales from the perspective of an openly gay man in a genre known, within the past couple of decades, for not being accepting of outsiders.

Peck’s sound has developed since his stardom kicked off, still keeping his signature warbly, but dusky, delivery and emotional storytelling. But still, within recent years, he has slipped his way into the mainstream country conversation with his consistency and increasingly vulnerable persona. He even took the lower part of his mask off, unleashing his constant smile that matched his grinning eyes. Nowadays, Peck has managed to release a collab album with other big names in his genre and beyond including Nathaniel Rateliff and Elton John. Most notably, Peck collaborated with the Texas country king himself Willie Nelson.

We showed up a couple of songs into Peck’s set, catching my favorite of his, “Dead of Night” and a couple of records from that collab album “Stampede.” As Peck smoothly crooned his way through “The Hurtin Kind’” and “Turn to Hate” (and pausing the show for someone experiencing heat exhaustion) he began telling tale of a country legend who asked him to collaborate before he even got the chance to ask him first. Earlier this weekend, Willie Nelson had showed up for one song for Chris Stapleton and I bet my wife that he would show up during Peck’s set as well. Low and behold, as Peck reminded us that he lived close by, Willie himself came from backstage to don his guitar, take a comfortable seat and play alongside Peck.

The last time I came to ACL, Willie was a top billed act that had the entirety of Zilker Park rushing to see him strum his guitar. Although he was a surprise this time, a poorly kept one at that, festival goers started to flock to the Honda Stage when they heard the crowd scream. I stood up and recorded the song on my phone like a proud mom while noticing the young people sprinting to the stage despite having no idea what was happening.

Several people stopped in their tracks and could be heard pondering why everyone was so excited before turning around, while others stayed for the entire song while asking their friends, “Who is the old guy and why is everyone so excited?” I’m not sure if it’s a symptom of being a Texan or just my age, but it was eerie to see people in Texas witness Willie Nelson in his old age and not freak out. Haylee’s sister was basically dozing off while we were grinning ear-to-ear, as she was already checking out of the Peck performance before Willie came on. The kids don’t seem to be loving country these days, even when it’s gay as hell.

The song, “Cowboys Are Frequently Secretly Fond of Each Other,” is exactly what it sounds like, with that classic talkative style Willie is known for. It was a beautiful performance, with Willie hitting every note effortlessly and Peck synced up with him perfectly. The broccoli-haired Gen Z kids and out of towners left after the song ended, glad they experienced something they didn’t really understand. At least Haylee’s sister was honest in the fact that she did not care.

Now that we saw Willie, it was time to get a move on from Peck early and head to the T-Mobile stage for one of my main reasons for showing up to the festival. The Lonestar Luchador. The Hardest Ese Ever. That Mexican OT.

OT (which stands for Outta Texas, for those not aware) caught my ear last year with his tape “Lonestar Luchador” and the single “Johnny Dang” with its sticky hook about getting so high you look like Houston’s king of bling. Since then, OT has released a whole other album, collaborated with every Houston and Texas rapper under the sun and established himself as the proven successor of Houston’s lineage of rappers with eyebrow raising, dirty lyrics. He fits right in with Z-Ro, UGK and SPM with his fast-paced delivery, witty references to H-Town and lines that make you rewind the track or mute it altogether when with mixed company. Digging deeper into his catalogue reveals that he’s a calculated, well-versed student of H-Town’s rap history.

Constant stoner talk and allusions to lean’s ever growing list of nicknames? Check. Combining Spanglish with a Texan drawl and a knack for rolling Rs? Of course. Gun talk and blood curdling lyrics about spinning blocks and slitting throats? Also there. Questionable lines related to fucking, stealing or fighting that remind one of 90s Pimp C’s escapades? More than you can count. At 25 the Baytown native has already garnered respect and love from local legends like Bun B, Slim Thug, Paul Wall, Z-Ro and Le$. He’s here to stay in the rap game if Texas has anything to say about it.

Sadly, though, the Chappell fans found a way to make the set nearly impossible to see. At the American Express stage, where Cannons was finishing their set, her legions of followers were already taking up space waiting for her. Tarps were laid on the ground with at least a dozen chairs on top of them. People already filled the ADA section, which was for both the AmEx and T-Mobile stages, three hours before her set. This prevented most disabled people interested in OT from getting the seat they deserve since they actually needed it now and not an hour later. Hundreds of people at the back of the OT crowd were facing the opposite direction, not even watching his set.

The crowd was messy and in the way, with people of all ages in pink sitting wherever they wanted in the middle of the crowd and in walkways near a screen showing the AmEx stage. As Cannons finished their set, you could hear the lead singer give a half-hearted thank you. We later found out it was because Chappell fans were sleeping, sitting and playing video games at the front of the stage.

I was fuming, but had to keep it together so the day would still be fun for my family. My little sister-in-law came with me into the crowd and we navigated closer and closer to the stage between the people sitting and looking the other way and the frat bros who only came to the stage for a rap show. These guys always show up to these sets because they see rap as rowdy, lawless and dumb fun they don’t have to care about. They don’t know the artist, they just know there will be bass, cursing and acceptance of weed smoke. It was obnoxious having some bro in my ear telling me I must be OT’s biggest fan because I dared to know the lyrics to most of the songs. I’ve never been stared at by so many white people for knowing the lyrics to several rap songs. You would have thought I was on stage myself the way they were gawking in between puffs of their subpar dope and attempts to mouth lyrics they’d never heard.

Anyway, OT delivered a very Houston, very hip-hop set. More than a dozen dudes were on stage, including OT’s DJ Skelz and tag-team partner in crime DRODi. With rapid fire pace, OT dug deep into his catalogue for tales about Dirty Bay, new school Houston anthems and his superhero theme song “V-Man” before resurfacing for the well-known singles from the album “Texas Technician” and his newest track, at the moment, “War Wounds.” He was spitting over the backing track with ease, not a break to take a breath in site. Even in the heat, which OT was also astounded by as well, he bounced from track-to-track in between glass-breaking sound effects. giving us the highlights of his recently booming career while DRODi joined in for their collaborative tracks and his own solo efforts. It was a rap show. Moshers got their fill, dudes got to laugh at lines about not knowing how to cook but knowing how to suck dick, and OT’s loyal fanbase yelled all of his lyrics about cripping, dropping and door kicking verbatim. Moms, dads, kids and everyone in between loved the crass master of his craft.

The set was worth the obnoxious pink people nearby. Spanish was yelled while OT immortalized the late Lefty Sm, gang signs were thrown and we all laughed a lot when OT tried to retract a joke about blowing the stage up if we didn’t scream the loudest we could (“People really blow shit up these days so I can’t say that.”). It was dumb fun.

By the time the set was nearing the end, Haylee’s sister ended up leading us almost all the way to the front of the stage. She later told me I was being timid, although she didn’t realize her advantage was being a beanpole that could squeeze between anyone.

It was time to evacuate the area. Chappell was coming.

We walked to the food court near IMG Resorts stage, where we had seen Jeezy and Vince Staples, encountering little resistance while droves of people walked to AmEx. It was beautiful to see the lines for the bathroom empty, the food court lines bare and the stage in front of IMG ripe for laying on a blanket. After a frozen banana, some tacos and other local Tex-Mex delicacies were consumed, we waited for Qveen Herby while we could hear warbles of “Good Luck, Babe” in the background.

(Okay, I’m lying. I have no idea what songs Chappell played, I just know that one is popular.)

We were looking to chill until Qveen Herby graced the stage with her witchy presence. We showed Haylee’s sister Qveen Herby’s catalogue, which is corny, glitzy, tacky and so fun. Qveen, as a rapper, is clearly a student of the Eminem school of thought (she even has a song with Tech N9ne), aiming for rapid fire lyrics and quirky inflections while mixing it with fawning over luxury brands, controlling men for their money and exercising her freedom as a modern woman. Tall and equipped with signature black bangs and sharp makeup, Qveen Herby makes “bad bitch music” that would fit snugly in a Real Housewives transition or as the soundtrack to shopping.

But, none of this is a bad thing. Qveen’s style has been honed for years while she’s hustled her raps on Instagram for years, which is what got her to one of the bigger ACL stages. She’s authentic in her homages to other female rappers and pop stars, pumping her trap-inspired beats with the confidence of and self-help guru. It’s corny for sure, but she’s still handling rap and pop with care, crafting hooks that burrow into your brain. Qveen is all fun and gaudy glamour, no pomposity or parody in sight. Just sugar daddy using, magic spell casting and “working out, sleeping in, taking vitamins.” She’s theatrical. She’s over the top. She’s that bitch.

When Qveen took the stage, the lights dimmed to show a crystal ball that was put on stage by a butler moments before. Qveen arrived on stage in a robe hiding her face and iconic hairdo, emulating Disney’s Fantasia while she casted spells that were in sync with her digital background as the crowd went mad. She launched into “Sugar Daddy,” before shouting out the crowd and moving into songs about how her grandmother could never be as free as her and how she could live life the way she wanted. She was bold and funny, although at times even she seemed shocked at how involved and appreciative the audience was. It was a unique experience to see an artist, who I had no idea was grinding so hard, receive their flowers in real time from lyrics repeated from hundreds of loving fans.

We dipped out of Qveen’s set because we knew Chappell was done with the American Express stage and the rabid fans Tyler, the Creator is known for would begin swarming the area for his set. After a brisk walk, a few hops over some blankets and couple of polite shoves we made it deep into the crowd near the front of the stage, but still far enough away that mosh pits were unlikely to form unexpectedly. If anything, getting to the spot we stayed in was less of a hassle than trying to leave the previous set.

We were about 30 minutes early and primed for a show full of Tyler’s usual banter, sticky but cocky rhymes and inspirational bravado. He was a deserved headliner, starting as the kid who ate a roach and produced Great Value Pharrell beats and pivoting into a Grammy-winning artist known for his eclectic raps and a style that doesn’t discard the Pharrell (or Kanye) comparisons but builds on top of it.

While the music has improved, with more live instrumentation added along the way and improved word play that doesn’t rely on slurs or overused punchlines, the more impressive part of Tyler’s career is the fact that he went from a perceived devil worshiping, homophobic woman hater banned from several countries to a household name with a Gucci bag collab and regularly sold out stadium shows around the world. He learned to play it safe over time, ditching the fictional, ultraviolent edgelord fuel and swapping it with personal anecdotes and storytelling that was more impactful and memorable. Tyler is no pop star, and probably never will be. But, his maturation into a still controversial, but layered, rapper is a transformation of note.

I’m old enough to remember when parents treated Tyler, the Creator like Satan himself. My wife remembers, vividly, that she was prevented from going to a Tyler, the Creator concert in the early 2010s because news of his numerous arrests and riot starting scared her dad. Until ACL, Haylee had never seen Tyler live due to either a personal conflict or the fact that he upgraded to more expensive venues. The weirdest part? I was at the show she was banned from seeing, and while two dudes did beat the hell out of each other and one woman was escorted out of the venue after passing out, I don’t remember anything else being much of a threat.

When we visit her parents, Haylee sometimes razzes her dad for making such a fear-based decision. For years, we’ve been meaning to rectify this wrong. I am probably more excited about this, but Haylee finally got to see him, as a headliner at a festival no less.

The lights dimmed and a spotlight shown on the large mountain on stage, a genius move for making sure everyone in the sea of viewers could catch a glimpse of the performer. Tyler popped out as the beat for “Lemonhead” blasted through the speakers. Even 10 years later, Tyler was still skipping across the stage on one leg and giving his all to the crowd beyond the front row fans. He launched into two more cuts from “Call Me if You Get Lost,” before digging into his recent back catalogue from “Igor” and “Cherry Bomb.” Then, as if to please the diehard fans and reach their quota, a highlight reel of cuts from his first few albums full of weird lines about stalking, jacking off and that one time he summoned Lil Wayne and Kanye West to emulate their past selves.

Between the boys shoving past us to get to the front and the one guy who threw his ID on stage, it was a standard Tyler show. Hearing songs I used to share with friends because they were raunchy or dirty were being belted out by thousands of people. Lyrics about shooting at ninjas stalking naked women and calling Spike Lee the N-word. It was euphoric but bizarre, seeing someone put their honest, crude thoughts as a teen on display and receive nothing but love back years after the fact.

The most intriguing part of the set, though, was the extra verses and intros for songs like “I Think” and “Wasyaname,” available nowhere on streaming or any of the albums. The bonus tracks on his previous album were also performed in a medley as his eyes rolled into the back of his head as he discussed his success, attempts to stop his career and his insecurities. He was on fire, he was emotional and he was putting on a show instead of just hopping from one song to another. We flipped from lyrics about assault and stalking to reflections on being perceived by the public eye and moving through the world as a Black man.

This was my third Tyler show. But it was also my wife’s first, so it is now my favorite one.

As “New Magic Wand” began, we began making our way through the crowd to get home. Haylee’s sister, now sufficiently impressed by Tyler, the Creator, decided to cop a shirt from the GOLF tent as we were leaving. No boring details this time - we made it to the hotel with time to spare for In-n-Out and showers before collapsing in the queen beds.

After we dropped Haylee’s sister off at the airport the next morning, we reminisced on our favorite moments from the weekend. I won’t forget Tyler, the Creator including the sign language interpreter in his performance. I will always remember Remi Wolf hugging her guitarist’s calf as she belted out “Life is a Highway.” The drive back to Houston seemed quicker than before as we rode the high from the weekend. We still have our ACL 2024 playlist at the ready and our Spotify algorithm has already shoved most of those songs into its playlists.

Austin City Limits 2024 was one for the books, despite rabid fans descending onto the event for one artist, a repeatedly changed lineup and the extreme heat. Despite complaints online of a lackluster lineup (I don’t know how Dua Lipa and Tyler, the Creator are not enough) and several acts dropping before the first weekend, 2024 was a solid year for the festival. It’s Texas’ own big event for popular music cloaked in a southern haze and bright skies. But, more importantly, it’s a chance to live in the music with other people.

Not all those sweaty people. The ones you came with.

While the first day of Austin City Limits impressed my wife and I, it was also giving us a rough start to day two.

For those not in the know, ACL’s venue, Zilker Park, is extra dusty at this time of year. Day 1 saw us donning our masks and bandanas to keep the dust out of our faces and sinuses and all that, but it didn’t matter because we were feeling every dirt particle in our lungs, throat and nose. When we got back to the hotel the night before, we realized we were caked in dirt from our shins to our knees to our ankles. Our legs were sore, our voices were a little less loud, but we still moved on to Day 2 after walking our dog, grabbing food with coffee and mentally prepping for the sunny day ahead of us.

(Side note: The hotel we stayed at had a dog patio for pets to the restroom since downtown Austin isn’t exactly full of walkable parks. Our dog, Diamond, HATED the dog patio with a passion. After using it once she never wanted to go back. She would stand by the door to go back inside. I don’t know, man.)

This time we had a loose, but effective, plan. First the shuttle, then to fill our water bottles, take a few pictures, then… then we just kind of did what we wanted. Not that there isn’t a lot to see at ACL, between the revealing outfits and sponsored booths that turn you into an AI-powered abomination, but today we wanted to see as many artists as we could since we showed up earlier than the previous day by a few hours. First up: Lola Young

Lola Young, the 23-year-old Londonite singer-songwriter specializing in moody indie tunes, had become one of our favorite listens on our ACL 2024 playlist my wife curated over the past few months. Her soulful, bluesy voice is less Adele than a smokier, more conversational Amy Winehouse, but the influence of the latter is still there with the sarcastic songs about heartbreak, being cheated on, feeling less than and abusive partners. Not to keep bringing up the British stereotype, but her writing leans into comedy, like Lily Allen, when she brings up her man’s weed habit (Why IS he high at 4 o’ clock? Good question, Lola.), but the self-reflection on self-destructive behavior in regards to romance and pleasing others take center stage as the main, at times depressing, subject.

Still, Lola put on a vibrant show full of belted high notes, cheeky jokes about her exes and observations of the crowd and attempts at dance moves. That’s not a diss at all - it was literally too hot to dance, and to laugh, according to Lola herself, as the sun beat down on the crowd in front of the American Express stage, volunteers pitching us lukewarm Boxed Water while we watched the set. She was funny when she took a beat to address the crowd while giving background info on each track, discussing tales of bad boyfriends while wearing a shirt that said “Oh My Pussy” complete with a picture of a cat.

Lola’s voice took control of the entire venue when each song climaxed, and each song sounded better than the recording, if not better due to her improvisation at certain points. We heard our favorite tracks of hers and got on the move.

Lola was great, but now it was time to the Miller Lite stage for Say She She, baby.

Say She She had also become one of our anticipated acts, specifically for my wife, since we found them on our playlist as well. The all female trio out of Brooklyn’s psychedelic disco tunes are catchy, with each lady hitting high notes and harmonizing to bass lines straight from the 70s with lyrics about the astral plane and regaining trust in relationships beside repetitive choruses that bore into the listener’s brain before the track is over. The very feminist (duh) band also has a song straight up telling people to write to their state representatives so reproductive rights in the US don’t keep going further into the toilet.

Say She She came out with a bang, jumping right into their well-known song, C’est Ci Bon, the band jamming while they each member, Piya Malik, Sabrina Mileo Cunningham, and Nya Gazelle Brown, made their way to the stage. The fans at the front of the stage were somewhat of a cheat code, adding to their ethereal presentation and concept by keeping their hair blowing in the wind, almost floating, while the Texas heat beat down on them and the crowd. The ladies were on point with their minimal dance moves and harmonious, witch-like chants on songs like “Astral Plane” and “Find A Way.” Even with one member pregnant, the group kept it groovy and sincere, thanking the audience and inviting us to clap along and harmonize with them along the way. Also, in a genius move, the ladies left for about two songs and let the band jam and improvise. The bass lines and guitar riffs were great, but I couldn’t help but think that they either didn’t have more songs to play live or were taking a much needed break from the heat.

We decided to make a change of plans after Say She She ended after Haylee made the point that we would have to come back to the Miller Lite stage again for Remi Wolf in an hour. We originally planned to see the Palestinian-Chilean crossover star Elyanna at the Tito’s Handmade Vodka tent, but between the heat, the set starting in five minutes and our hunger, we decided against that and stayed at Miller Lite.

I was sent on food duty while Haylee held our spot near the front of the stage after several people left following Say She She. The trek to the food stands was minimal but still taxing with swarms of people headed to the Honda Stage for Teddy Swims (who my wife thought was a woman until she heard him despite me telling her several times it was a Post Malone-flavored white man like Jelly Roll. I blame Teddy Mellencamp from The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills for this confusion) and Austinites rushing to gather in a large tent to watch the Longhorns whoop OU at football. The incredibly expensive, hot pizza rolls and chicken tenders seemed like a dumb decision in the near 100 degree weather, but then again most of the food available was hot so we had no choice. It’s like hell, but with music.

Now, entering the crowd was another experience on its own. Remi Wolf fans had swarmed the stage since I left to hold their spots before the set began in 40 minutes. I was polite and tried not to step on the groups sitting on the ground, trying not to drop the ranch and pizza rolls. After some more navigating and negotiating (my wife asked some people to let me through), we finally sat down to eat while surrounded by ankles, crocs and sandals galore.

Remi Wolf has, apparently, been popping on TikTok for a bit now. I only say apparently because my wife had heard of her at least a year before me and pointed to the social platform as the source. The spunky, loud California girl makes some of the more earwormy, eclectic pop music inspired by hip-hop, R&B and soul. Her music is very all over the place, in a good way. One minute she’s belting out high notes over a breathy instrumental a-la-SZA and the next she’s damn near rapping over funky beats pulled straight from early 90s. It’s as if Remi took all of her influences and said, “Hey I can do that,” and made a world of her own.

The crowd was ready for Remi for about half an hour before she got on stage. We noticed that Teddy Swims was knee deep his set at the Honda stage and while we weren’t exactly haters, we also weren’t familiar with Teddy Swims music or his popularity. The crowd, including everyone in front of the stage for Remi, showed us how out of touch we were by almost robotically singing the hook for “Lose Control” in sync, without missing a word. Didn’t miss a note. As the demonic chant continued, I looked behind me and realized we were surrounded by a sea of people.

We were trapped by the twangy boom of Teddy Swims and thousands of other bodies, but we didn’t have any intention of leaving so it was fine.

Remi took the stage to one of her more recent, popular songs, “Cinderella” while running up and down the stage to get the crowd reasonably hyped. The catchy, goofy, at times unintelligible (what does she mean by “like Cinderella making babies on the company’s dime?” Who knows but…) single was almost designed to be an opener, with a chorus that can hook any listener in and a groovy guitar riff throughout.

The band was also throwing ass and executing quick choreographed routines but Remi somehow still stole the show. She got down on her knees to belt out hooks, she shook her hips while performing a bossa nova version of “Sexy Villain” and she even used the most evil tool of all, improv games, to get the crowd to participate. I was already sold on her set being one of my favorites of the day after she covered “Life is a Highway,” which somehow fit right in with her other songs, and told tales of cocaine and Gucci suits and hotel room sex before jumping into songs about those subjects. Then the band brought out the pride flags out for the very Texan audience, which resulted in some of the loudest applause of the day. The set was short and sweet like the artist, and I left a bigger fan than I was before we were locked into our front row spots.

As we walked away, blown away by the performance and glad we’d have enough time to chill before running to the stage Vince Staples was performing on, Haylee mentioned that Remi and Lola were wearing the same outfit: cargo pants, a white shirt and a hat. The artists couldn’t be further from each other but apparently this was the outfit to wear in near 100 degree Texas weather.

Following a quick bathroom break and purchases of lemonade (I spilled it) and water, Haylee and I traveled to the IMG stage once again for another rap show, albeit from a rapper with about a decade less time in the game. Vince Staples has been consistent if nothing else since the 2010s, dropping mixtapes that showed off his dark storytelling and tales of cripping on the west coast. Collaborating with everyone from the Odd Future crew and Mac Miller to the SOPHIE and Kendrick Lamar, Vince has only improved as an artist attempting to make thought provoking, mood setting music without being the poster child for conscious rap. Between the raps about dead homies and life as a gang member in Long Beach, California are plenty of lines about gun talk, headshots, distant relationships with women and repping the set that raised him.

The crowd near the IMG stage was varied while also being exactly what one would expect when they think of a Vince Staples concert. Plenty of teenage boys were shoving to the front so they could show Vince how white they were while the grown hip-hop heads sprinkled themselves throughout the crowd among the young couples puffing on joints and waiting for the show to begin. One guy asked his date if she had heard of Vince Staples (she hadn’t) while bros in backwards baseball hats discussed how hype Jeezy was the night before and hoped Vince, the artist who recently released to heavy, emotional albums in a row, would provide the same experience. All-in-all we had a good mix of people who were here because they were crossing off names from their Spotify playlist and others who were here for a show they actually planned to see.

Vince’s performance was a more focused, somber version of his show from the weekend before, which we watched on Hulu.. Before continuing his performance past the first song, he explained that he had a bad day and wanted to put his energy into the performance instead. He was less talkative but more refined in his raps, commanding the stage for classics like “Norf Norf” and taking center stage with a mic stand for his performances of “Sparks Fly” and “Little Homies.” To be able to perform such somber songs with, at times, reserved and low-key beats is impressive on its own, let alone staying away from more than a few higher energy songs like “FUN.”

Halfway through the performance Vince reminded us that, like the people many of us have lost, we will all die one day. Possibly even a few people in the crowd that night. I’m sure the frat bros from earlier or the teens who managed to mosh during every song appreciated that as much as everyone else. The guys forcing a moshpit and knocking over 4ft tall women in the process contrasted with the at times monotone vocals from Vince, mirroring most mainstream hip-hop fans who see the genre as purely party music. Talking about your dead friends? Party music. Remembering how broke you were and how starving you used to be? Party music. Discussing the effects of gang violence on one’s mental health? Party music!

With Vince wrapping up, we decided to make our way to the American Express stage, or at least as close as we could get, for Dua Lipa. The international Albanian superstar, known for her slick choreography and nostalgia-fueled pop tunes, had two of her only North American performances for 2024 at ACL and the crowd showed that no one wanted to miss it. Despite people in the ACL subreddit claiming that no one bigger than Chappell Roan was playing the festival this year, the wall of people keeping us from seeing Dua as little more than an ant for her performance proved that wrong.

Since we couldn’t actually see anything, although we could hear better than we expected, we made the choice to head home before Dua was finished. We had already heard the song I was looking forward to the most, “Illusion,” complete with some of the dancers from the music video that we could see on a screen, so it was not a total loss. Dua, like many pop artists of her caliber, didn’t miss a beat between dancing her way across the stage and keeping her vocals smooth. Anyway, the bus to go back to the hotel was about to be inundated with other sweaty, tired people as soon as Dua finished so we headed out.

Day 2 was in the books. We somehow had even more dirt on our feet but it was a total success. We grabbed tacos, walked the dog one more time and then collapsed into the hotel bed as soon as we could. As I closed my eyes I remembered that not only was there an entire day left, but we would probably be there all day the next day. Tomorrow we would see Tyler, the Creator, That Mexican OT and Misterwives before the day was over.

Metaphor: ReFantazio

Last entry I was lamenting the fact that despite Persona 4 being one of the best JRPGs of all time, the game falls short when it comes to dialogue, outdated jokes and the limitations of its high school setting. As if my prayers were answered, Metaphor: ReFantazio was released into the world this month with none of those problems and numerous improvements to Atlus’ Persona formula. Metaphor trades the modern-day high school setting for a darker fantasy setting as well as the corny, anime-like humor and pervy one-liners for actually funny dialogue and well-thought philosophical discussions. Metaphor makes the Persona series look like a beta for the real thing, both as an RPG combat and a visual novel.

I went into Metaphor expecting Persona with a job system like Bravely Default or Final Fantasy IV. While it is basically just that, it refines some gameplay elements from the Persona series that didn’t quite make sense or were barriers meant to extend the game time. For example, social links, or supporters as they are called in Metaphor, do not progress arbitrarily based on dialogue choices or the type of archetype (think persona) equipped - they just let the player enjoy the conversation and pick what they would like to say without worrying about slowing down progress for that supporter. Other quality of life updates include being able to fast travel directly into stores, clearly marked activities for improving personal stats and being able to review lore at any moment like Final Fantasy XVI.

The main character is young, but grown, and therefore doesn’t need to be forced to stay in the house like Persona protagonists (unless it’s for plot reasons) and can regularly do the most of the same activities at night. These changes seem little, but they allow the player to move through the game without worrying about missing a specific event or stat boost as long as they pay attention, even just a little bit. In the end, you’re playing more game than you were in the Persona games, with less downtime between dungeons that feels like a waste. There are no random quizzes or tests, no forced school trips and overall no more filler for the sake of filler. The day-to-day gameplay loop flows better because there is more freedom to spend time how the player wants to rather than them hoping a random event doesn’t shove them into 30 minutes of cutscenes. When it is urgent to watch the time, say for a main mission with a deadline, it remains urgent but not restricting.

Grinding is also unnecessary, as combat is more about having the right jobs, placing your party members in the right spots and using your MP, or mana points, wisely rather than buffing yourself enough to steamroll the competition like Persona 3 and 4, although 5 got better in that respect as well. It’s more about strategy overall. Although the combat is fair, some battles can be lost quickly if the player isn’t adapting by picking different jobs for their party or mixing the team up for different skills. The new job system also allows for more freedom in combat since each party member can switch jobs at any time, which is also worked into the plot very neatly. Want to have three knights and one mage? You’ll probably die, but you can do that.

My favorite part of this game, by far, is the complete tonal shift from the Persona series. While they may not be the same series, the two share a ton of similarities between each other as well as the Shin Megami Tensei series. Archetypes are personas, supporters are social links and many of the same special moves are present. But, Metaphor just does it better. The story is dark and mysterious from the beginning, starting with an assassinated king and 100 different questions. The other party members’ motivations are smoothly folded into the main plot, while the side missions and stories hold weight on their own by buffing up the lore of the United Kingdom of Euchronia, which is actually diverse in terms of tribes and race. There are actually more than one dark skin characters in this game, compared to Persona games, and the protagonist isn’t exactly a part of the majority.

The developers also, finally, gave the protagonist a male best friend, Strohl, who isn’t a weird pervert or a homophobic bully. His worst crime is being rich in his childhood. Maria is like a little sister to the protagonist, a la Nanako from Persona 4, but she has more layers to her character than “Why isn’t daddy home,” or “Mom died and I am sad.” My personal favorite so far is Neuras, the gauntlet runner driver who is also an eccentric, fast-talking inventor with a storied past.

Discrimination, freedom and fantasy are the dominant themes of the story, and none of it seems hamfisted or harsh for the sake of being harsh. The main character is from one of the most hated tribes in the game, and as such the player experiences racism regularly throughout the game. It’s abrasive but it works well to establish the setting. The conversations between party members are layered, with some having more idealistic views than other. Comedic moments between characters are cute and hinge on character traits, like Hulkenberg’s over-serious nature or Strohl’s silver-spoon background rather than the sophomoric humor of the Persona series. There also isn’t any sort of overly drawn out fanservice of the female characters. Hulkenberg is a well-trained, knowledgeable, albeit ditzy, former knight that doesn’t bend over sensually or fawn over the protagonist. She also has some of the more profound dialogue of the party. It’s refreshing for this type of game.

The characters feel less like caricatures and more like representatives of the United Kingdom of Euchronia’s prevailing attitudes and political stances, as well as the effects of those stances. The game is anti-royalty and anti-discrimination without spelling it out all the way, which is refreshing. If anything, it handles these topics much, much better than Final Fantasy XVI’s surface level discussions of inequality and discrimination.

Metaphor is a large step up from the Persona series, and I’d recommend it to anyone remotely interested in it or other JRPGs. It’s gameplay loop is addictive, the story leaves the player anticipating the next plot point and the characters feel alive. I’m barely past the second dungeon, so I don’t even know how what else is in store for the plot.

Don’t know if Metaphor is your thing yet? Don’t worry, there’s a demo of the prologue that took me 7 hours to beat. I play it on PS5, but it’s also on Xbox and PC.

Balatro

Who knew there could be a solo card game better than solitaire?

Balatro, made by a one-man team and released this February, is a roguelike card game where jokers give you advantages, tarot cards award other bonuses and the goal is to run up the score and make it past the 8th round, or ante, as the score requirement climbs higher and higher. Players can play standard poker hands or upgrade their deck to the point that they can make five-of-a-kind hands or use jokers to multiply their scores to the thousands.

There isn’t much to say about Balatro, because the addiction doesn’t set in until you play a round. Well it just looks like a card game. No, it’s more than that. It’s a game that will take hours away from you while you try to figure out how to make your 4s and 10s as powerful as possible so you can steamroll a run. It’s about filling your deck with gold cards so that you can buy everything in the shop. It’s about losing so much that you just need one more win.

Play Balatro. It’s on literally everything: PC, Switch, Xbox, PlayStation and even mobile (I mostly play on Switch, then it’s PC or phone). Or don’t. Because once you see that score rise and those jokers get unlocked, there’s no going back.

This isn’t the first entry! Check out Day 0 here.

Austin City Limits Weekend 2 had finally arrived on Oct. 11, and the Pryce household was ready. We were ready to spend an embarrassing amount on merch, scream our voices away at our favorite artists and enjoy the best people watching available. The massive music festival was here and our year of concert night after concert night was resuming.

During the previous weeks my wife and I collected sunscreen, cooling towels, electrolyte tablets, miniature fans, hats, sunglasses and even new shoes. It became more like preparing for a hike through the desert rather than a music festival but we would soon learn that it might as well be the same thing for any music festival held in Texas before November.

The 3-hour drive to Austin from Houston was less than notable besides the usual Texan billboards telling sinners to choose heaven or be doomed to hell accompanied with a link to a manifesto that for some reason blames Obama for everything wrong with the world. Standard fare. We saw plenty of other vehicles packed full of college kids and early 20-somethings that were definitely headed the same way. As we started to see hills - something you don’t see a lot in east Texas - we knew we were getting closer to Texas’ favorite weird, albeit stinky, city.

Our hotel was perfect, complete with a welcome package for our dog, Diamond, valet service and close proximity to the free shuttles straight to Zilker Park, home of ACL. We unpacked, got hydrated, tired the dog out with a walk and set off for the latter half of Day 1 of the festival. We expected it to be hot in Austin but as we walked to the shuttle it really set in just how scorching it would be. For those uninitiated, October in Texas basically the last month of summer rather than the beginning of fall. 90 degree days in the middle of the month were not surprising at all.

The free shuttles were a conglomerate of school buses from school districts in and around Austin, liberated from their daily routines to take loads of families, high teenagers, day-drunk adults and other folks straight to the festival grounds. The other options were to walk about 30 minutes to the park before waiting in line to get in, commandeering one of the many easy-to-use Lime scooters to get there in half of the time or maxing out a credit card for a super surged Uber. We met a guy who bought his 3-day pass that day catching the shuttle after his Lime scooter died nearby, who also notified us that tickets were already sold out for the weekend. We were in for a pretty gigantic crowd.

We put our masks on (it was dusty at Zilker Park, plus people are gross) and boarded the bus, which took less time than expected, and ended up getting through the front gates in no time.

As soon as we got through the gates the scope of the festival set in. At least 100 people were walking by us at all times, crowds in front of the stages were packed, lines for food looked more like bees swarming a hive and the overzealous sun made it all the more intense. Norah Jones, the OG breathy indie songwriter in my opinion, had just taken the Honda stage as we entered Zilker. We didn’t stick around since we were hungry already and needed to get a hold on where everything was since it had been eight years since our last ACL.

We could sort of hear “Don’t Know Why” as we picked up a plate of nachos to share under a tent, standing next to a picnic table while elbow-to-elbow with festgoers wearing elaborate, cowboy-ish outfits or almost nothing at all. The park was packed to the brim with people and while it was easy to navigate in between stages, the crowd was still an overwhelming swarm every which way we looked. Often, I’d grab my wife’s hand and make our way through bigger crowds together instead of staying separate. The massive waves of people are one quirk of most music festivals that I understand can be an accessibility barrier to most, but we love music so much that we try to push through it.

The Golf merchandise vendor was also present, since Tyler the Creator brings the shop selling his brand with him to every festival he plays. We opted to buy a hip bag and a mystery bag with a fur coat and a hoodie along with our souvenir shirts featuring a play on the Texas license plate. The price was insane but it was more than worth it since my wife was seeing Tyler for the first time this weekend and I wanted it to be commemorated as much as possible.

Finally, we arrived at our first set: WhooKilledKenny, a rapper originally from Austin but based in LA, took the BMI stage by storm soon after Norah left the Honda stage’s crowd relaxed (or bored) with her classic hits from the 2000s. Kenny was equipped with a band, dancers and his own big-headed mascot sporting his baby locs and gigantic cheesy smile.

The mascot was only a slight caricature for the real thing, as WhooKilledKenny put emphasis on every ad-lib and hook that came out of his mouth during his hype, tone-setting, crowd pleasing performance. Kenny was to-the-point with all of his songs about fucking, smoking and motivation to keep grinding, keeping the crowd hype by asking us to sing every hook with him. Kenny could have easily handled a bigger stage, like T-Mobile or Miller Lite, with a consistent stage presence and funny one-liners about his women and money. The best part of the set was his declaration of his love for God and growing up in church, followed by a gospel-inspired track with a hook that simply said, “Bitch, I’m so thankful.”

As Kenny winded down and announced that he would be playing three more songs, we headed over to the ADA seating for the Honda stage minutes before Foster the People were set to take the stage. The stage was already being swarmed with several crowds as we took our seats.

Seven years after their previous album, and their previous ACL performance, Foster’s set wasn’t exactly a performance I knew to expect a ton from. In the present, most Foster the People songs played in popular media or placed onto playlists are from their first album, Torches. Songs like “Helena Beat,” “Don’t Stop” and most notably “Pumped Up Kicks,” for example. For the band known for a song about school shootings, which has somehow become more prophetic than it was in 2011, the barrier and stigma for listeners getting past their first album was a short but less navigated route. That eerie, ominous breathy single doesn’t make way for the funky, earwormy pop that the band went on to make.

Foster the People’s latest album, Paradise State of Mind, is a 70s-inspired, Prince-biting commentary on modernity and the human condition. Some lyrics tackle the intense greed and need for attention that the internet at large, others take a futuristic on losing oneself to love. It’s groovy, it’s catchy and it emulates the era it borrows from very well with Mark Foster’s high-pitched, Bee Gees-like vocals meshing with the bluesy bass lines and high-energy choruses like that on “Lost in Space.” It’s disco, but refined and focused on delivering a specific message for each song.

Foster’s 2024 ACL set was electric and surprising considering the hiatus the band has taken. The band kicked off the show with “Feed Me,” one of the newer tracks, the synths and groovy baseline kicking in as Mark crooned about kissing screens, tasting data and pixelating. The introduction to the “new” Foster continued with the mind-bending “Lost in Space,” still showcasing the slick lyricism and catchy hooks the band was known for a decade ago. The crowd, initially put off that the first song they heard wasn’t the one stuck on their Spotify playlist, began to latch onto the performance more as the spacey single went on. Mark commanded the stage in his sleek, simple black outfit like a less doped-up Mick Jagger, dropping his stoic frontman persona only to speak to the crowd candidly between songs about the band’s hiatus and excitement to be back on stage.

Eventually the well-known songs had to come into the set, and they did not disappoint. Helena Beat sounded like an original recording of the single, as if the band had been performing it ad-infinitum for the last 10 years. Before finishing the set with Pumped Up Kicks, Mark Foster spoke to the audience about protecting artists from censorship while supporting their art, as well as the band’s worry that Pumped Up Kicks. Due to its morbid content, Mark said he assumed it would be the band’s undoing as more and more school shootings happened in the United States. Still, he encouraged more artists to tackle those hard topics without fear of offending others and without compromising their art. The crowd sang every single lyric, the ominous and threatening tone washing over the Honda stage as Mark’s hopeful words faded into the background.

Starstruck from our time at the Honda stage, we pushed through the crowd lining up early for the headliner, Blink-182, to go straight to the IHG Resorts stage for Jeezy. The legend himself, your trapper’s favorite trapper, The Snowman, the Soul Survivor, the original trap motivator, is only matched by Lil’ Wayne and his rival Gucci Mane in terms of influence on rap music at large and trap music specifically. As a legend in the game, it was only appropriate that he was about 20 minutes late for the strictly timed festival set. After that 20-minute period passed, Jeezy’s DJ took the stage instead to play southern rap’s greatest hits … from 2018. And specifically songs by Travis Scott, which was a choice.

Still, the blunt smoke clouded the air and the crowd repeated the lyrics verbatim until Jeezy, formerly Young, took the stage to play hit after hit rather than newer songs from his album released in 2023. This decision was for the best and a better use of time for everyone involved. Why play new music when your catalogue includes “Lose My Mind,” “Trap or Die,” “All There,” “Standing Ovation,” “Soul Survivor” and “Trap Star?” It almost seems like cheating to have legendary catalogue like this to pull from, but between glass breaking sound effects and a hype DJ commanding the crowd, Jeezy took Austin to Atlanta for a limited time only. Like many rappers from the mixtape era, Jeezy even performed verses from other songs individually, like the “My Nigga” remix, between full songs. While he had to cut the set short due to his own superstar habits, Jeezy’s set was a crash course in Atlanta trap music and his status as an established megastar in the genre with 20 years of hits.

By the time Jeezy began performing his last song, we were leaving the merch tent for our second round of purchases before peeking at Blink-182 before heading back to our home base at the Hilton.

Blink-182 began the set with oldies and a couple of new tracks before stopping to crack a few sophomoric jokes that the band members have been known for since their start in the 2000s. The Cali-based band have kept their angst-ridden, crude, but funny, swagger consistent since their heyday, with Travis Barker doing what he does best on the drums while Tom DeLonge and Mark Hopper sounded just like their 20-year-old selves did on both guitar and vocals. Fireworks shot off as the band played hits like “The Rock Show” to screaming fans. In between the guys riffed about girls and sex acts. Just like the 2000s.

I’ve never been the biggest Blink fan outside of the well-known whiny anthems about being 23 and work sucking, but the set was everything a Blink fan could ask for (unless they hate their new music).

It’s official: we finished a day at ACL. Our feet were dirty, our voices were gone, a layer of sweat had fused to our skin and our hands were full of non-refundable goods. The same shuttle that got us to the park was waiting to drop us off where we were picked up.

My wife and I somehow made it to the hotel room after 6 miles of walking in 96-degree weather, multiple hours of standing around and bumping into other sweaty people and yelling at stages. P. Terry’s was calling our name, so we made the long trek to grab burgers and fries before getting ready to do it all again tomorrow, somehow for even longer. Day 2 was less than 12 hours away, this time with a front row view of Remi Wolf, a stellar performance from Say She She and more time relaxing between sets.

Watching live musical performances is an experience that can’t be compared to other forms of entertainment. Whether it’s knowing all of the lyrics to your favorite band’s deep cuts, dancing for the entire set or just feeling a sense of belonging with other fans, it’s a uniting and liberating experience at every level.

My wife, Haylee, and I share a mutual love of live music, screaming out the lyrics to rap songs from every decade and showing support for musicians we listen to daily. One of our first road trips together was to see St. Paul and the Broken Bones in Austin, filling the rest of the day with a date at a local Mexican spot and a walk around 6th Street before the demons descended at nighttime.

This year, Haylee and I headed packed up our dog Diamond and drove to our state’s largest music festival, by far, Austin City Limits. It all started a few months ago when I was looking at tour dates for Houston’s own That Mexican OT, a rapper who has been seeing a steady rise to mainstream stardom since his Lonestar Luchador album in 2023. Despite living in the Houston area, I couldn’t see any of his shows due to scheduling conflicts with work. After seeing that he was going to perform at Austin City Limits this year, we checked the rest of the lineup and saw several other people we knew we’d like to see: Tyler, The Creator, Blink-182, Dominic Fike, Vince Staples, and a bunch of other artists that indicate we’re millennials on the cusp of being Gen-Z kids.

We decided to cop our tickets as a birthday celebration for myself since the festival also comes to town near my birthday every year. We also invited my wife’s little sister along for her first music festival. Things were looking perfect: the hotel was booked, Haylee’s sister’s flight was secured and we began to gather supplies for the October heat that Texas is known for. We set a budget for merch, my wife created playlists for every day of the 3-day festival so we could get more familiar with the artists we didn’t know and we enjoyed discovering new artists over the coming weeks. But, as we edged closer to the festival, things began to get shaky for ACL.

First, Dominic Fike, the hip-hop adjacent indie bad boy, dropped out of the festival, which was a punch in the gut for all three of us. If anyone was disappointed it was Haylee’s sister, who chose to go to one day only, Sunday, because he was supposed be there. This wouldn’t have been so bad if several more acts didn’t drop out before October came. Tyla, Caamp, and Catfish and the Bottlemen also dropped out weeks after. While we didn’t plan on seeing any of two of those acts, it didn’t bode well for the rest of the weekend: could a headliner drop out? What about That Mexican OT? Who will fill Dominic’s empty spot?

Well, ACL had an answer for the last question: Chappell Roan. Yes, the red-haired, TikTok meme soundtracking, PR-allergic pop sensation that has had arguably the largest rise of any mainstream artist in 2024 was promoted, which makes total sense.

(I say arguable because Shaboozey has been kicking the country charts’ ass at #1 on the Billboard charts for 14 weeks this year, but no one cares as much for some reason. The same could be said for Teddy Swims, another artist who performed at ACL. Chappell Roan has more streams than some of the artists, but hasn’t had a single song hit #1. If anything, Sabrina Carpenter is the top pop darling, but the internet says otherwise. )

The latest favorite lesbian of the moment, Gaylor Swift in the flesh, had her performance moved forward to the last day of the festival, set to play before Tyler, the Creator on the festival’s biggest stage. Although I am not a fan of her music and respect her talent and popularity, I didn’t find the move a particularly fair one - we didn’t get a replacement act, they just moved an act over to a different time slot.

It was a bootleg move, but it was also the move that probably made the organizers a lot more money. My wife and I took turns groaning and sighing every time a drone shot of Chappell Roan fans doing their weird YMCA dance to a song about getting eaten out, we immediately realized how busy and Chapell-obsessed the Sunday crowd would be. This isn’t her fault, at all, but her fans are absolutely obnoxious and self-centered. The size of the crowd wasn’t the problem but the fans camping out for spots and sleeping in front of the performing bands, scoffing at anyone who dared to say they didn’t like her music, flooding the ACL subreddit to insist that the festival only sold out because of her (it sells out at least one weekend every single year) while begging for advice on how to camp for her performance only, and generally just being rude was disappointing to see leading up to the first weekend.

It seemed like the droves of TikTok-based fans obsessed with Chappell (she doesn’t even like those fans by the way) were ready to make the festival about them. Not Chappell, the artist they all decided was their favorite within the past six months, but themselves. It will be a dream when these people move on to their next favorite thing, another Olivia Rodrigo or a Sabrina Carpenter or another supposed gay icon, because then we won’t have to hear from them while they take up seats for another artist while staring at their phones or arguing with other ACL attendees that camping 8 hours for an artist while blocking the view of the stage is their way of “enjoying things” that can’t be criticized. This rant is over for now, but we’ll get back to them on Sunday.

Despite the kinks in ACL’s operation, we were still excited to attend all three days. We knew that live shows in 2024 had been fickle on whether or not they will actually happen since every artist seems to be getting sick, not selling enough tickets or exhausted. Even Orville Peck, the indie darling and gay country artist who peformed at ACL this year, dropped from another festival the week prior, as did Chappell Roan. We had shows for TisaKorean and Veeze canceled on us earlier this year and even Childish Gambino halted his tour for health issues. So, this wasn’t an ACL specific thing but rather an industry-wide problem that also affected ACL. Plus, artists drop from festivals every year, so that also wasn’t a total surprise.

We were ready to head down to Austin to see our favorite artists and have a good time regardless of weird online wars surrounding the festival and lineup issues.

Next entry we will enter Day 1 of Weekend 2 of ACL, featuring WhoKilledKenny, Foster The People, Young Jeezy and Blink-182 performing on one of the hottest weekends Austin has had recently. Get ready for the expensive merchandise, surprisingly good performances, questionable outfits, teenage mosh pit dwellers and excessive heat that non-Texans definitely were not prepared for. Thanks for reading.

Don’t forget to play the videos included - some of them are gameplay clips I recorded. Enjoy!

Overcooked: All You Can Eat

A couple of weeks ago my wife and I were sitting on the couch after work watching Love After Lockup when she looked up from our current favorite brain-rotting television program to ask a simple question: Do you want to play a game?

Now, don’t get it twisted: my wife is a gamer and was before I met her. She reminisces all of the time about how her dad would yell at her for messing up in a co-op similar to how my brother would do the same to me. We played Heavy Rain and Until Dawn together and pumped at least several dozen hours into Borderlands 3. Vampire Survivors has kept us up way longer than it should have on work nights and we did everything there is to do in Nobody Saves the World.

Recently though, we’ve both been more into non-local multiplayer games and solo journeys. She put more time into the recent Zelda game (not that one) than I did by a country mile. Now, though, she wanted to return to our co-op roots and chose Overcooked over Guacamelee after we turned on the PS5. The food-based game requires players to prep, cook and deliver orders for customers with a variety of obstacles from moving platforms and rats grabbing ingredients to lava and delivery drivers blocking routes to the kitchen. It’s chaotic, it’s fun and we are lucky to be the only couple who seemingly has never fought over a game of Overcooked.

We had already dominated the first Overcooked years ago and the second game soon after. This time, though, we were playing the remastered version, Overcooked: All You Can Eat. Buyer beware: this version kind of sucks. It’s full of bugs and has a huge flaw baked into it: it’s impossible to get the highest score on most stages since the game was last updated. No, seriously, it’s actually impossible because a feature was removed, the times for each level remained the same along with the score requirements. Although we managed to get the top score on many of the stages by the skin of our teeth, we felt so relieved when we realized most of the top scores were legitimately unreachable without turning on Assist Mode. Besides that, we also randomly fly off of the stage, some of our orders are fulfilled out of order and at times the game just crashes.

Our playthrough of AYCE has been going swimmingly otherwise, with my brain only failing me when we play late at night, causing me to either freeze or deliver the wrong order. Luckily my wife resists her urge to emulate the male role models in our lives and only lets out a disappointed sigh when I mess up. We’re great at collaborating instructions and workflows for each level, even without speaking out loud, and it’s fun to see us somehow be better at the game than we were years ago. We were blowing some of our old scores out of the water before we turned on Assist Mode. I wish this game was less buggy, as its collection of characters and every single piece of Overcooked content is a really great package. We’ll definitely be playing this one until we chop every steak, cook all of the pasta and kick every rat that tries to steal our pizza dough before we throw it in the oven.

God, I’m glad I don’t have to eat any of the food, though.

Persona 4: Golden

An oldie but a goodie.

Actually, it’s better than that. I consider Persona 4: Golden one of the best RPGs of all time despite its dated dialogue, odd story pacing for the introductory dungeons and insane difficulty curve for every dungeon. For those not familiar, this turn-based RPG casts you as a Japanese high school student sent to the country town of Inaba while his parents leave the country for work obligations for the year. Soon after, a series murders begin in Inaba, the protagonist meets a group of friends, unlocks his power to use personas, or alternate egos resembling demons that can be used similar to Pokemon, and tasks himself with solving the murder himself despite being a 16-year-old high schooler. You conquer each obstacle through using the power of friendship (I’m not joking) through the social link system, which requires spending time with other main and side characters for more character development and improved stats.

This time, as I’ve beat Persona 4: Golden four times before, I’m playing the game from a fresh save on the Nintendo Switch. This port is as close as I can get to my old PlayStation Vita playthrough without actually booting up my Vita, keeping the mobility but improving the performance and screen size. I mainly play this version in portable mode, as playing it in docked mode brings out the dated graphics of the game that haven’t been improved at all for this version. It’s admittedly more comfortable to play than it was on the Vita, but besides that it’s the same game for the most part.

Like I said before, though, the game has not impressed me as much as it did when I was 17. Kanji’s storyline is very hamfisted even though they could have taken his repressed sexuality storyline and treated it with more care. Yosuke’s dialogue where he basically call’s you his boyfriend clashes with his blatant homophobia and crass personality. I still adore how dumb Yukiko is and how close the friends become as the story progresses, but Persona 4 is still full of little moments that make me grimace a bit like the camping trip (that turns into a fat joke) and Yosuke’s failed attempts to pick up girls (which turns into another fat joke). There are some things I can take as being appopriate for the high school setting or for harmless gags like the swimsuit gag on the beach or the crossdressing contest, but other scenes last too long and overstay their welcome with pervy lines from the teenage boys.

The gameplay is still solid as far as the dungeon crawling loop, the social link system, side gigs and using all of those to find the true ending. I like this game at it’s core but almost every time I play it I find something I don’t like that either didn’t bother me before or that slipped my mind. Some character’s arcs are still fun to watch, like Naoto and Yukiko, but others are annoying beyond belief like Yosuke and Teddy. The pervy teacher with Ms. Kashiwagi bit is always creepy even though they attempt to make her look sexy so it can be perceived as not as creepy.

For some reason the last three mainline Persona games have had a hebephilic older person in a position of power over the protagonist. The weirdly sexual Ms. Kashiwagi in Persona 4 and the catfishing teacher Ms. Toriumi in Persona 3, which you can romance for some reason, were already bad enough. But, Persona 5 has like three of them. One of them sexually assaults a female main character within the first arc of the main plot and you can romance the two grown women who are also perverts attracted to a high school kid. I really hope the next entry drops this trend, as the older I get the worse this gross trope is to play around. It already feels weird playing as a high school student and romancing other high school students, which is barely optional as it improves combat for the player. The predatory aspect of these characters are wholly uneccesary.

Still, the art style of the series is great, the combat is simple but hard to master (especially when the difficulty spikes) and it all meshes well with the life simulator portions. It’s one of the best games in its genre, combining visual novel gameplay elements and presentation with preparation for long dungeon crawls. Hopefully the series grows up, and the recently released Metaphore: Refantazio (from the same team at Atlus) shows promise with adult characters, a deeper political plot and even better dungeon crawling with a Final Fantasy-like job system.

Maybe I might change my opinion on Persona 4 after two more playthroughs. For now, though, I can tolerate and avoid the weirder aspects of the series.

Kirby’s Return to Dream Land Deluxe

I’ve been diving more and more into Kirby games over the past few years, as I realized I never really played any of them. Personally, my first introduction to the little pink dude was Super Smash Bros. Melee where I abused his moves where he turns into something really heavy or swung his gigantic mallet. Little did I know that Smash Bros. aesthetic, menus and presentation originated from past Kirby games and he might as well be the main protagonist for the series too. It makes sense, considering HAL Laboratory is heavily involved in both series.

Kirby’s own games, though, are very easy and non-competitive, a stark contrast to Super Smash Bros. I blasted through Kirby’s Dream Land, Adventure and Dream Land 2 pretty easily, which isn’t a bad thing. These games provide the lightest challenge possible while still being fun, letting the player test out new abilities in later entries and abuse them to skate right through most levels. Return to Dream Land, a remake of an entry from the Wii for the Nintendo Switch, isn’t much different. The only times I die in this game are because I was not paying attention or I fell off of the stage. It’s easygoing, it’s fun, but if anything it scratches the need to complete and finish tasks within its huge world of minigames, ability challenges, amusement park distractions and collectibles.

This game is meant to be replayed and combed through over and over to get every gear (or stars) and unlock more games to play. This is a theme for most Kirby games but this remake takes it to another level with an additional mode where you play as Magolor in his own adventure. As a remake, it hits all of the right notes and as a full game it provides plenty to do, more than an afternoon playthrough like past Kirby games. I have taken small breaks from this one because sometimes the lack of difficulty can make it a bore. I’m sure this one would be more fun with a friend or two. Sometimes playing Return to Dream Land feels like playing a fake video game from a 90s sitcom - enemies die easily, big projectiles fly across the screen and the player just can’t seem to die easily.

Pick this one up if you want to turn your brain off and don’t mind not being challenged for some hours.