THE PERIPHERAL PROBLEM, or how i stopped loving guitar hero when i ran out of room for all this guitar hero shit

Posted by Chris Ward at 7:33 AM Jun 04, 2008

SHOWN: Shit-ton of peripherals accumulated in just a few short years. NOT SHOWN: Broken guitars, dance mats I gave to my brother, Rock Band 2 equipment, Guitar Hero 4 equipment, Guitar Hero 5 equipment, Guitar Hero 6 equipment...


I’m absolutely dreading Guitar Hero 4, and feel panic-stricken just thinking about it.

It might sound like insanity, given that the fourth installment in the Guitar Hero franchise could end up being the most successful game of 2008. It won’t even hit store shelves till late October, but details announced recently have set off an alarm in my head. Guess what GH has in store for your ever-shrinking, fake plastic life?...

Aping the format of rival rhythm series Rock Band, (the current king of pseudo-jamming games), Guitar Hero comes packaged, for the first time, with a 6-piece plastic drum kit—complete with rubber cymbals—microphone, and newly designed, 12-button guitar. After purchasing an extra axe for your neglected, bass-playing friend (poor fucker), you’re looking at $250 worth of brand new non-instruments.

But the cost isn’t what I’m freaking out about—Rock Band proved no one will balk at a jaw-dropping price tag if the game is great, and Guitar Hero is a solid franchise.

Here lies my anxiety: Another Guitar Hero bundle pack is upon us, and I don’t have any more room for all this plastic shit.

I can’t be alone in saying, by 2009, I’ll have accumulated no less than 14 plastic guitars, a new one added to the pile with every hit sequel and new console purchased. Yes, I’m including Rock Band 2 in this tally (late 2008) because, let’s be honest…we’re all buying it.

The wee environment I call home is clogged by countless polystyrene peripherals, which have multiplied like Brett Michael's Valtrex prescriptions thanks to the massive popularity of Guitar Hero (and games like it). Remember when a drawer full of tangled Nintendo controllers were your only problem? Try finding a place to store all your giant rubber drum kits when the Guitar Hero/Rock Band competition really heats up. Rumors have abounded that both factions are looking to add fake keyboards to the mix, so forget about that new Barcalounger—you won’t have space for both.

And Guitar Hero isn’t even fully to blame. USB Microphones creep like vines into every crevice of my entertainment center from years of Karaoke Revolution sequels. Multiple Mario Kart steering wheels, Wii Zapper add-ons and a barely-used Wii Fit Balance board huddle under my coffee table like shiny white vagabonds. Hell, I could re-tile my kitchen floor with Dance Dance Revolution mats. Wasn’t the point of the Wiimote that it mimics a tiny tennis racket? Why in the hell do we need to snap an actual tennis racket peripheral on the end of the thing? I’d put all this stuff in a closet, but three sets of Donkey Konga plastic bongos already occupy that space.

The worst part is, we can’t even throw our gaming peripherals away, as we would an old VCR, because they’re still worthwhile. What if you want to drag out the original Guitar Hero and play “Bark At the Moon”? Or finally decide to beat Guitar Hero III years later? Good God, people, how could we part with our NES Power Pad, should World Class Track Meet ’88 suddenly sound enticing? We can’t. They’re still fun, dammit. But if a company were to offer a “sequel rebate” for mailing in our old hardware, and then recycling this junk for the good of the planet (and our wallets), many of us would quickly part ways with our wireless Flying V.

When I first played Guitar Hero, I was thrilled at the idea of peripheral-based games finally transcending novelty to become legitimate fun. Careful what you wish for—At least when Tamagotchi was popular, it fit in my damned pocket.

So I will spend the summer drooling over the next Guitar Hero, and I will wait for the inevitable news that some poor sap has been crushed under the weight of his tiny plastic instruments. I’m all for rock and roll excess, but this ain’t what I had in mind.
Besides, I'd trade this all in for a giant Pac-Man beer mug and a humongous Hall and Oates poster.

"OMG! You wish it, I dish it, FTW!"