I played a lot of great new games in 2024, including a handful – games like Metaphor: ReFantazio, Astro Bot, and UFO 50 – that immediately became all-time favorites. But I also indulged my retro gaming interests more than I have in a very long time. After an abysmal time with Nintendo's Endless Ocean reboot, I revisited the Wii original and had an incredible experience. I discovered that those NES Mega Man games have earned their legendary reputation, and that Wave Race 64 is an all-timer of a racing game. Most of all, I think I've learned that I'm having a lot more fun playing old games than new ones.
We're on the precipice of a stacked 2025, with the next two months bombarding us with games like Civilization 7, Like a Dragon: Pirate Yakuza in Hawaii, Monster Hunter Wilds, and Assassin's Creed Shadows – not to mention megalithic stuff further down the line like the Switch 2 and GTA 6. But as I think back on what I played in 2024, I can't help but think that if I'm honest with myself – really, genuinely honest – I'm going to have a much better time if I shove all those new titles to the side and embrace retro.
Aged like wine
It's not that I believe old games are better than their modern counterparts. Sure, pernicious things like microtransactions and life-consuming grinds have grown far more common, but even if I never played another game with a real-money store again, I'd still drown under the sheer volume of incredible indie games being released every day – many of which build on the mechanics of retro classics in fantastic new ways.
But even if they're not better than the games we're getting today, a lot of retro classics still hold up. Even the bad games of yesteryear tickle a little sicko joy center within me. Keeping up with a current year's releases can feel like a never-ending task, even if you try to cut out those hyped titles you know aren't really going to appeal to your personal tastes. Fully indulging in retro gaming can feel like a delightful bit of rebellion against that fear of missing out, which game marketing tends to weaponize against us. Today, I'm giving an STFU to FOMO.
I probably got a taste for retro gaming with what was, ironically, a game that was modern when I played it: Super Smash Bros. Melee. Having cut my gaming teeth on thrift-store NESes and SNESes and late-era N64 titles, this big ol' tribute to all things Nintendo introduced me to a metric ton of classic games that I'd never heard of before, and helped stoke in me the idea that the relics of a previous gaming age were worth celebrating. The canon that built video games was out there, ready to be rediscovered and replayed.
As I get older, I find myself a little less interested in the idea of a gaming canon, and more in the weird junk that built up alongside all the games that have gotten their due accolades. I still have a few blind spots among gaming's all-time greats - sure, I keep telling myself I'll probably play Silent Hill someday - but lately I find myself drawn to more obscure choices. I want to spend my time in weirdly ambitious experiments that never caught on, inexplicable footnotes from major publishers, and even some movie-licensed games that ever-so-often punch way above their weight.
Are the PS2-era James Bond games stone cold classics? Well, that might be a matter of perspective – my colleague Jasmine will tell you Nightfire is still the best James Bond game ever made – but after playing through every 007 game of the era on the (technically) superior Xbox, I can certainly tell you it's a fascinating history lesson. The early '00s saw the gaming industry chase Hollywood like never before, and you can chart that effort alongside the course of Bond's games through these years, from the generic 007 face in Agent Under Fire to the Pierce Brosnan likeness in Nightfire and the full Hollywood cast of Everything or Nothing. Many of these games even have DVD-style bonus features, and what an unexpected delight it was to see future Dead Space and Callisto Protocol lead Glen Schofield singing the praises of From Russia With Love.
Today, I'm giving an STFU to FOMO.
Contextualizing these old games – and yourself along with them – is part of the fun. One of the more random recent additions to my collection is Kinetica, a 2001-Sony-published racing game whose moderately horny magazine ads made a big impression on my pubescent brain. It's only afterward that I learned Kinetica was the first project from Santa Monica Studio, and that its engine technology would go on to power the first two God of War games. I love discovering these connections, and getting to play a decent little sci-fi racer alongside that history lesson is just a fun bonus.
But maybe the big reason I keep sticking with old games is simply that they do not have an expiration date. Even before my job became 'think about video games,' I felt a certain drive to keep up with all the latest and greatest – and if you're reading these words, there's a decent chance that you feel the same way. I've never connected with a Borderlands game despite trying numerous times, yet I know that when I see people having a good time with Borderlands 4 later this year there's some part of me that's going to think that I'm missing out and that I should give it another shot.
Today, I say no. FOMO has led to me playing a lot of video games I haven't actually enjoyed over the years, and I know I'm going to spend my 2025 much happier if I sublimate my knee-jerk desire to dig into the latest AAA zeitgeist game into firing up the weirdest PS1 nonsense I can find. More than anything, I want to spend more time indulging – and trusting in – my own tastes. Sure, I'll probably end up having a good time with GTA 6 and whatever Nintendo's got in store with the Switch 2 this year, but I'm making peace now with the idea that I'm not going to keep up with every "big" game that lands in 2025. The CRT-lit corner of my wood-paneled basement game room is just a much comfier place to live.
I'm still torn on whether to expand my collection of the best SNES games or best original Xbox games first.
