Metavoidal Is the Loudest, Most Chaotic Drumstick-Smashing Nightmare You’ll Ever Love or Hate
Hello everyone. Let’s talk about “Metavoidal” – a game where you play as a drummer who apparently woke up one day and decided that the best way to escape a sinister, eldritch metal band’s mind control was to bash their way out… one distorted power chord at a time. It’s the kind of premise that makes you wonder whether the developers were running on caffeine, adrenaline, and delirium at 3 a.m., or if this is all an elaborate in-joke at the expense of rhythm game clichés.
The Premise – Drums vs. Cthulhu’s Garage Band
The plot? You’re a drummer who failed an audition. Ouch. But instead of going home to sulk, you realize the band you flunked with is actually a cosmic horror outfit twisting reality with their music, complete with an army of corrupted fans. Sounds like a bad day at a music festival. Now it’s time to beat each band member into submission using “off-beat” techniques – which I take to mean both musically and psychologically questionable.
This is all set inside a church crawling with demonic roadies, eldritch fan clubs, and your own questionable career choices. You’ll battle through graveyards and catacombs, proving once again that in games, churches are never just… churches. Big plot twist: this isn’t really a rhythm game. So if you came in expecting to relive your “Guitar Hero” glory days – sorry, this is more “Hades” with drumsticks, minus the Greek gods and plus a few sweaty metalheads.
Gameplay – Build a Playlist, Bash Skull, Repeat
The hook is collecting cursed vinyl records at the end of each level. These aren’t just collector’s items – they grant you corrupted elemental powers like fire, lightning, oil, and holy light. Because nothing says “holy” quite like frying a demonic lead guitarist with sanctified lightning while wearing eyeliner and a torn leather jacket.
- Collect records → absorb their power → add them to your playlist.
- Each playlist changes both your powers and dynamic soundtrack.
- Combine elements for a glorious, chaotic arsenal.
It’s rogue-lite-ish – die, try again, get stronger. Your enemies? Corrupted fans and nightmare bandmates, each with unique attack patterns. Imagine “Battle of the Bands” from hell, except everyone’s overdosed on caffeinated energy drinks and the lighting budget came straight from a satanic rave.
Boss Battles – Musical Mortal Kombat
You’ll face the enraged keyboardist, a string section with more attitude than an MMO raid leader, and other members who didn’t appreciate your ghosting them after that awkward audition. The fights are over-the-top, theatrical, and unapologetically ridiculous – as if Slipknot designed a fighting game, then handed it to someone who was more into bullet hell shooters.
BingBong’s Bodega – The Capitalism Side Quest
This cheery void-creature trades you upgrades for guitar picks – the universal currency of the damned. It’s an amusing meta-commentary on the music industry: all those “exposure” points you earn can be reinvested to make the next poor drummer in line slightly less doomed. Sort of a “pay it forward” system, only with more decapitation.
The Soundtrack – Weaponised Audio Design
There’s one thing this game gets spectacularly right: the music. Sixteen original songs, seventy-two variations, sixty drum tracks – each dynamically changing according to your playlist. The right riff here is as lethal as a perfect headshot in “Counter-Strike.” Choose fire and lightning, and you’ll hear blistering shred-fests. Go oil and holy, and suddenly you’re in a bizarre fusion of doom metal and cathedral chants. It’s bold, inventive, and clearly the game’s biggest selling point.
The Rage-Inducing Details
While the concept is fresh, there’s potential here for the “style over substance” trap. Is the combat as tight as its theme is loud? Time will tell. The risk is a game that’s got more theatrics than actual long-term gameplay depth – like one of those boss fights in MMOs that look amazing in trailers but devolve into button-mashing chaos in practice. And let’s not ignore that rogue-lite loop: get ready for repetition, because every failed run means replaying chunks of the game – a mechanic as divisive as a loot box controversy.
Conclusion – Amped Up but Cautiously Hopeful
Metavoidal feels like a fever dream that someone put through a bass amplifier. It’s loud, absurd, and dripping with personality. The risk is whether the zany setup and killer music can keep you engaged beyond the first few hours, or if the novelty will fade faster than your hearing at a Motörhead tribute gig. But with its bold soundtrack integration and chaotic boss encounters, this could be something genuinely special – if it doesn’t collapse under its own theatrics.
Verdict for now: cautiously optimistic, leaning towards good – but don’t be surprised if it turns into a power chord that fizzles mid-solo.
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is entirely my opinion.
Article source: Metavoidal, https://store.steampowered.com/app/2221780/Metavoidal/
