Mixtape, Memories, and Friendship

Picture it. You’re 17, maybe 18. You’ve been at a house party all night, making too much noise, and drinking when you shouldn’t have been. You’re dancing to “Sensitive to Light” by Rainbow, while your friend is passed out from…overindulging. All of a sudden, the cops show up. You bundle your friend into a shopping cart and go speeding off, red and blue lights flashing behind you as the cops give chase. All the while, “Sensitive to Light” is still playing, setting the mood perfectly for a nighttime escape through town. Okay, so maybe that didn’t happen exactly like that. Maybe the cops didn’t chase you all the way through town. Maybe they didn’t chase you at all. But that’s what it felt like, that’s what your memory of the time has become. This is what Mixtape perfectly captures: that time in your life when every small moment felt life-changing, and there was nothing more important than hanging out with friends.

Mixtape, the new game from Beethoven & Dinosaur, the Australian studio behind 2021’s The Artful Escape, is a 90s-set coming-of-age story following three friends on their last night together before taking their first steps into the adult world, set to the soundtrack of a generation, with every song perfectly selected for just the right moment. From skating through town, finding a cabin in the woods, or just hanging out in your bedroom, you play as music-obsessed Stacey Rockford (Bella DeLong), who, along with her friends Van Slater (Max Korman) and Cassandra Morino (Jessica Ma), is getting ready for one last party, while reminiscing over their time being teenage delinquents in Northern California.

From the moment Mixtape was announced, I’ve been chomping at the bit to play it. Between its cute animation style, fun gameplay, incredible soundtrack, and loveable characters, everything about it screamed me. And it didn’t disappoint. This is quite handily my favourite game of the year so far, and one of my favourites of the decade. But more than any of the reasons I listed above, what made this game mean so much to me are the memories it brought to the fore of my mind. Of hanging out with friends. Of spending countless summer days doing whatever the hell we wanted. One of those moments that really had me sitting on my couch, controller in hand, just reflecting, was of a simple minigame in which you’re skipping stones down by the river, trying to see what you can hit. This was exactly like what my friends and I would do. We had a specific spot along the river where we’d hang out. That spot has gone now; rising water levels mean it’s impossible to go back there. Being able to relive those memories thanks to Mixtape means more to me than I can put into words.

The big selling point of Mixtape is, of course, its carefully curated mix of songs perfectly chosen to score the game, enhancing the specific emotions that game director Johnny Galvatron is looking to evoke at any given moment. The songs comprise an eclectic mix of both hits and lesser-known tracks, spanning from the 1960s to the 1990s, with artists such as Lush, The Smashing Pumpkins, and The Chi-Lites featured prominently. The moment I knew this mixtape was going to be for me was when, after the game’s opening downhill skate set to “That’s Good” by DEVO, I found myself hanging out in Rockford’s bedroom while The Jesus and Mary Chain’s “Just Like Honey” set the mood perfectly. I first heard that track when it was prominently used in the closing moments of Sofia Coppola’s 2003 masterpiece Lost in Translation, a movie that meant a great deal to teenage me, and still does to this day. It was quite common to find “Just Like Honey” blasting full volume in my bedroom while my friends and I would be hanging out. The realization that Mixtape had tapped into that specific feeling brought a gigantic smile to my face the moment the song started playing, and a sting of melancholy as I knew that time had passed.

One criticism I have seen in the days since Mixtape’s release is the lack of genuine gameplay. And I do not fully understand that sentiment. Not every game needs the shooting precision of a Call of Duty or the punishing combat of an Elden Ring. What Mixtape offers in terms of gameplay is a series of vignettes that give you control over the teenage experience. The first, messy, embarrassing kiss by way of controlling tongues in a gross and hilarious flashback. Getting really drunk and trying to stumble your way through a video store while attempting (unsuccessfully) not to knock anything over. One moment that sticks in my mind, that combines gameplay, teenage life, and the heightened fiction of memory Mixtape excels at, is a nighttime drive set to the brilliant “More Than This” by Roxy Music. Fireworks are being let off, and instead of just enjoying the multi-colored explosions of light, you’re conducting them, blowing them up in tune to the best of the music. All of a sudden, your car starts floating, getting higher and higher, as what feels like hundreds of fireworks fill the air right as the song hits its crescendo, you tap the trigger of your controller, and the night’s sky is filled with a cavalcade of color.

Mixtape’s best feature, however, is its characters. The trio of friends at its center is brilliantly fleshed out. You understand Rockford’s all-encompassing desire to move to New York and become a music supervisor. Slater’s chilled-out exterior belies an unsure interior, an uncertainty for his future that I greatly related to. And then there’s Cassandra, the game’s standout character. Previously, someone who did whatever her parents wanted has now decided to rebel, as all teenagers are wont to do, and became friends with Rockford and Slater. This leads to conflict with her father in some of the game’s most powerful moments. I will be seriously saddened if Jessica Ma’s performance as Cassandra, or the rest of the central trio’s actors, doesn’t get any love come awards season.

What I found so brilliant about the character writing in Mixtape was how it perfectly captured the explosive feeling of an argument between friends. The devastation and loss it brings. This feeling of loss is best captured when Rockford, following a heated disagreement with Cassandra and unable to express her feelings in words, starts listening to “Roads” by Portishead. The song’s haunting melody and lyrics sum up Rockford’s emotions in a way that words can’t. That’s the power of a great song. I, too, have found myself listening to “Roads” when I’ve been going through it in yet another moment of the game’s scarily close reflection of my life.

I have mentioned throughout this review how well Mixtape has done in taking me back to my teenage years. Spending some time remembering the stupid stuff my friends and I would get up to has been a joy. And it’s worth noting that, unlike Rockford, Slater, and Cassandra, I didn’t grow up in Northern California or in Australia, like game director Johnny Galvatron. No, I grew up in a small village in the valleys of Wales. I wasn’t a teenager in the 1990s either. For me, it was the 2010s. A time of smartphones and music streaming. I never knew the joys of burning a mixtape; the best I could do was make a custom playlist on Spotify and share the link. But I understand the feeling the game is evoking in its setting. This speaks to the universality of the teenage experience, even as it is lived through the specificity of Mixtape’s group of friends. But as great as it’s been reliving the halcyon days of my youth, I’d be a fool if I didn’t take the game’s final lesson to heart. As fun as it was, as great a time as I’ve had looking back on that wondrous time where anything seemed possible, and summers lasted forever, it’s time to let go; we can’t live our days reminiscing over what was. So thank you, Mixtape. I’m going to do just that. I’m letting go.