Before podcasts, the only voice I ever cared to listen to when video games came up as a topic was my brother's. We would have idiotic arguments over which system was better, try to one up each other with who had newer and better games, and practice revisionist history with our legendary NES Ice Hockey battles. Sure, I read the reviews from the major gaming magazines and websites and they were definitely helpful, but nothing compared to the recommendations that my brother gave me or a buddy from school. I didn't just listen to what they were telling when a game was awesome or when it sucked, but I was also listening what wasn't being said. Did they sound happy when they were telling me about the game? Was there sincerity in their voice? That helped me determine if a game was a must-buy or a just-rent.
A professional game review can get some points across, but when it's just text, something gets lost. You get the refined point of view; the filters are there for that professional sheen that has to justify why a game deserves such glowing praise or avoid-at-all-cost disdain. Even video reviews can be chopped up and edited to change the message to the point where you're just waiting for the next cut of gameplay footage. So there was a voice and they were definitely worthwhile, but in a way, it felt too polished. In other words, they weren't keeping it "real" real.
The first gaming podcast I ever downloaded was the Hotspot from Gamespot in the middle of 2006. I forget who the crew was and what exactly the show's purpose was other than news and previews. Not to sound like a football analyst, but I'm not so sure that they didn't know exactly what they doing either. It was dry at times, very workman-like, but occasionally you'd hear one of the cast make a snarky comment that would never make it as text online. It was those little nuggets that piqued my interest; it helped me answer a question that I had always had about game reviewers: were they real or were they Sushi-X?
Then came the boom from 1UP. They were the visionaries in gaming podcasts. I still remember the first 1UP Yours episode I downloaded some almost four years ago, which went everywhere from a graveyard in Los Angeles to promote Gears of War to an hour-long argument about which company had the best third-party exclusives. Their voices were loud and passionate and they were not afraid to stand their ground. If an industry figure like was wrong, they were not afraid to drop the hammer on them. If a company makes a promise and fails to deliver, they were ready to call them out on it. If one of their own makes grandiose statements that had little ground in reality, they were more than willing to take them to the woodshed. And when they were editorializing games? I instantly knew if that game was going to be worth my sixty dollars... or fifty... or forty... or twenty with a $20 Best Buy gift certificate.
Soon thereafter, game podcasts became my new talk radio. I was getting my gaming fix without touching a controller. Through 1UP, through Giant Bomb, through Wired and the many blogs withpodcasts out there, I was living vicariously through them and saving money at the same time. I don't have to play every first-person shooter andRPG out there now because someone else was doing it for me, and I saved my precious free time for the games that really deserved them. Just last week, I finished the latest Prince of Persia and started the first Uncharted; games that came out over a year or two ago. I don't feel the pressure to buy the heavily praised Uncharted 2 today because so many people were sharing their experiences, I felt I was playing it with them. I got everything I need out of that game for now, and when the dust settles and the price goes down, then I'll go buy it.
The one thing I won't do is start my own podcast. I mean, who wants to hear about a gamer who is perpetually stuck in the past?
