North American sports gamers have never had it so good. Eventually, you become so attuned with the game, so in sync with its crushing difficulty, that the rest of the world begins to melt away, leaving only you, your quickening heartbeat, and Thumper. Thumper’s convergence of sight, sound, and interactivity creates a uniquely oppressive atmosphere, weighing down on your chest in a way that even some of the best horror games can't achieve. As a silver space beetle racing down a track to do battle with a demonic hovering face, you'll tap buttons and move analog sticks along with its proggy, percussive soundtrack in order to overcome numerous obstacles at an increasingly rapid pace. But if you let one of its spindly tentacles ensnare you, there's no saving you - you're hopelessly caught up in one of the greatest rhythm games ever made. And Thumper's demands of your attention and reflexes are incredibly exhausting in a way few games can manage. Its minimalist, psychedelic aesthetic is alienating, cold, and disarming. Its tunes don't exactly conform to the pleasurable formula of what humans typically consider music.
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