Renowned Classics: Mohawk and Headphone Jack

My first foray into this soon to be epic section of our blog known as Renown Classics starts with what can only be described as mind numbing speed thrash. That is what the title should have been instead of Mohawk and Headphone Jack. Yes, one of the characters has a mohawk that covers his entire body for the majority of the game, and yes - the other character is wearing headphones. But the only thoughts coursing through your mushy gray matter is "oh my gawd I think my brain is leaking out and dripping all over my parachute pants."

The year was 1995 and life was grand. Nintendo blessed us with a Super version of our beloved gray box. We could go 3D if we wanted. We didn't. Instead, we went fast - faster than Uniracers, faster than Sonic, faster than we had ever gone. And what made it go faster? Metal. Melodic metal and almost zero gravity to stop us. In fact, when our clunky bodies wouldn't let us go any faster, we melted into balls of pure speed. Destroying any and all acid trip villains we came across. Our goal? Find and locate more Compact Discs to fill the need for speed the music was making us lust for.

Something to get you in the mood.

I'm not going to lie, this game was frustrating. Balls hard even. I don't think out of all the years I spent renting it from the Bel Air Grocery video section I got past the second level. It was that hard. It was confusing. It was upside down. It was fast. It was religious. I needed to play. My brother needed to play. It's what we played instead of first party games. It was our crack cocaine.

I am telling you all this because - frankly, everyone needs to play this. This game makes you lust for a sonic game to go faster. It ruins lives. It alters your perception of speed in games, and that is quite an accomplishment. So go down to your local web browser and talk to good old Mr. Ebay and ask him for the good shit - that better than sex, laying on the floor drooling with a controller in your hand jacked on speed and metal shit. It is worth more than all your shiny consoles combined, and you wont regret a single microsecond when your SNES' little red light is on.