Mixtape

I've never been one to really connect with coming-of-age stories. They're usually quite poignant, heavy with references to a past I sometimes would rather forget, the teen angst, the bad decisions, the creeping feeling that everything was about to change.

But here's the thing about Mixtape: it doesn't just wallow in that anxiety. It reminds you that alongside all of it, the fear, the uncertainty, the goodbyes you weren't ready for, there was joy. Real, messy, unforgettable joy. And it captures both with such honesty that even someone like me, who usually keeps coming-of-age stories at arm's length, didn't stand a chance.

At its heart, Mixtape is about three people who aren't ready to say goodbye. Stacey Rockford, a music obsessive who's spent her whole life making the perfect playlist for every moment, is leaving for New York to chase a dream. Van Slate, her oldest friend, is the calm to her chaos, steady, measured and always present. And Cassandra Morino, the newcomer who stumbled into their orbit and never quite left, is figuring out for the first time what kind of life she actually wants.

One last day together. One last party. One last mixtape.

But days like these never go quite to plan, and Mixtape understands that better than most. The tensions that have been quietly building beneath the surface of this friendship, things unsaid, plans changed, loyalties tested, find their way out before the night is over. These are three people who love each other and are terrified of losing each other, and the game never lets you forget that both of those things can be true at the same time.

In three hours, Mixtape makes you care about these three completely. That's not a small achievement.

Before the game even begins, Mixtape tells you exactly what it is. Shot like a documentary, we get introduced to Stacey Rockford's dream, to become a music supervisor. Someone who doesn't just love music, but understands it well enough to know exactly which song belongs in exactly which moment. It's a clever piece of framing, because that's precisely what Beethoven & Dinosaur have done here.

Throughout the game, Stacey breaks the fourth wall to introduce each track, artist, year, context, before it plays. It never feels like an interruption. It feels like a new chapter opening. Each song is a door, and she's the one handing you the key.

I was born in 2001. Most of this soundtrack predates me by a decade or two. Joy Division, Iggy Pop, Roxy Music, The Smashing Pumpkins, Siouxsie and the Banshees… names I knew, worlds I hadn't fully entered. Mixtape changed that. "Love" by The Smashing Pumpkins, "Yesterday's Hero" by John Paul Young, "State of the Heart" by Mondo Rock, songs I'd never heard before that now feel like they've always been mine.

That's what a great music supervisor does. That's what this game does.

One standout for me was for sure, Roads by Portishead. It arrives at the worst possible moment in the story, which means it arrives at the perfect one. Beth Gibbons’ voice filling the silence after everything has fallen apart. It's the kind of song that doesn't just accompany a scene… it becomes it.

Music in Mixtape isn't decoration. It isn't atmosphere. It's the architecture. The story, the characters, the art, all of it is extraordinary. But without the music, it would just be a mixtape. With it, it's something special.

Let's be honest about what Mixtape is and isn't. This is not a “game” in the traditional sense. There are no mechanics to master, no systems to learn, no challenge to overcome. What Beethoven & Dinosaur have built is closer to a fairground attraction, you're on the ride, you can look around, interact with things along the way, but the cart is moving with or without you and it knows exactly where it's going.

In some setpieces the game practically plays itself. You're there, present, occasionally pressing a button, but mostly you're just along for it. For some players that will be a dealbreaker. For others, myself included, it's precisely the point. Mixtape isn't asking you to be good at something. It's asking you to feel something.

At roughly three hours and $20 or free on Game Pass, the value conversation is inevitable. Here's my answer: if you need a game to challenge you, look elsewhere. If you're open to something that uses the language of games to tell a story no other medium could tell quite this way, Mixtape is worth every dollar.

Mixtape is a short journey. Three hours, a couple locations and one last day. But it earns every minute of that time with an honesty that most games three times its length never approach. The characters are cringe in all the right ways, messy, contradictory, but always honest with their feelings. The music feels chosen with love. The artistic vision never wavers. Everything is exactly where it needs to be.

It won't be for everyone. If for you, gameplay is king, and feel the need to always have a challenge in front of you, this isn't your game. But if you can give it three hours, just three hours and let yourself get lost in it, I think it will leave a mark.

Some mixtapes you listen to once and forget. Some you keep coming back to for the rest of your life. You'll know which one this is before the night is over.

SCORE - 8.5/10

Windrose - Early Access

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