Remember the good old days when video game bosses didn’t need to have a reason to exist? Nowadays it feels like the final baddies in games are always trying to teach you some ham fisted lesson about how revenge never really frees you from anything or the consequences of genetic science run amok. Or they’re trying to actually make me feel kind of bad that I’m about to defeat them, make me sympathetic to the hopelessness of their situation so that, in the end, I wonder if it is not in fact ME who is the true monster here.

Stop trying to force me to reflect on the harsh realities of a choice between a relatively peaceful life of servitude and an almost certain death on my own rebellious terms and just let me SHOOT THE GUYS, GOD.

And, usually, I”m totally cool with that. But sometimes I really miss the 90s. Nobody gave a crap back then. There you were, frolicking your merry way through an enchanted forest or an evil ninja dojo or robot factory or whatever, hoping to maybe do a spot of world-saving when WHAM! Dragon! Weird Partially-Exposed Brain Thing! Big Guy With An Ax Or A Chain Or A Pipe Or Something!

And don’t even bother asking for a story connection either. 90s bosses don’t screw around. They’re not tortured antiheroes reluctantly trying to subdue you because you’re te only thing standing in the way of their misguided view of a perfect world. That guy is super ripped and he’s going to smash chips of your shattered skull into your diaphram because EFF YOU, that’s why. He’s got a huge pipe! Weren’t you even listening???

Suck fire, NARRATIVE.

My favorite boss music from the games of my childhood was always very rhythmic and kind of frantic. Exactly what you’d expect to hear if a troll bashed down your living room wall as you were putting on your shoes to make a Safeway run and started caving in your rib cage with no preamble at all, I guess. So that’s what I tried to do here.

Have a listen, won’t you?

Bloody Thumbs