Gitaroo Man
“The dreams I’ve abandoned couldn’t have come true. I have other dreams I haven’t given up on. They still shine bright. They still light my way.”
The character I control is a boy named U-1. He wants to be a skateboarder. He is…not good at skateboarding. He has a talking dog who teaches him how to play guitar with a tennis racket. Something stirs within the cosmos and suddenly U-1 is threatened by minions who want to stop him from playing guitar. I follow the trail of notes and jam the circle button close enough to the proper tempo. U-1 is safe for now.
I’m entering middle school and I want to join band. My brother joined when he went and played the saxophone. When my sister had gone, she chose the clarinet. I’m joining band to play the trumpet. Years later, I earn first chair in trumpet when there are only two chairs to go around. I picture myself as a musician. My best friend was a musician; he knew how to play the drums, bass, and guitar. If he wanted to, he could’ve recorded a full band’s songs all by himself. I want to create a band with him.
The stages in Gitaroo Man get progressively more difficult. I get better at timing my button presses and tilting the analog stick just so. After every song, I watch U-1 accept more and more that, not only can he play guitar, but he can play it very well. He discovers that he is a musician.
My friend and I gather other friends together one night and try to start a band. My friend plays the drums. One of his friends plays bass, another plays guitar and is a member of chorus, so he can sing. I think I can sing well enough. I can’t. I started taking piano lessons six months ago and I think I can play okay. I can’t. I have no place in the band.
After playing through the game once, I unlock the Master Play mode. I survive the first stage again and move on to fight against a UFO. There are far more button presses than before. I barely survive. My thumb is sore. On the third stage, I’m assaulted by an impossible flurry of notes. I fail. I try again and make less progress. My thumb is numb and semi-unresponsive. I go to bed.
Over the next couple of days, I play through the entire campaign on normal again and push to get A ranks in every one. I try stage 3 on Master Play again and, to my surprise, I actually make it. In fact, it’s easy to me now. I move on to stage 4 and lose almost immediately. Failure isn’t the point though. I don’t even need to complete the stage now because I know that I could do it if I focused my mind on it.
I no longer think of myself as a musician. I haven’t played the trumpet in over 10 years. I haven’t played the piano in 2 years. I don’t want anyone to hear me sing. But sometimes, the idea germinates in my head that I should dig out my trumpet and wash it or dust off the keys on my piano. I tell myself that I don’t have to impress anyone. I tell myself that I can find satisfaction in simply growing.