Dean

I am not pussy whipped (Rock Band)

While I’m usually exquisitely turned out when leaving the house for an average day of Canadian festivities, I’ve recently become accustomed to wearing a Steven Tyler endorsed headband. There are two reasons for this:

a) I have a beautiful head of hair that is accentuated by a rose coloured headband
b) I am one of only a handful of people who can honestly state they can five-star The Hives’ Main Offender in Expert mode.

This in turn allows me to strut into a music shop, declare that I’d like to purchase a Fender Stratocaster and proceed to play the fuck out of it because I five-starred Heroes by David Bowie.

The thing is, Players; while I'm sitting here at my desk wearing a red Libertines jacket doing some Charlie off a supermodel, I’ve noticed my life hasn’t really changed that much. Sure, my bank balance is $200 worse off, and my wife is ignoring me because we have a set of plastic drums in the apartment, but apart from that, I’m still the cocky whore I was previously.

A cocky whore who now has a set of plastic drums in his apartment.

Rock Band is the perfect videogame for a generation of adults who’ve had enough of videogames. While conventionally, the game is extremely simple, it still manages to convey the most heavenly of sensations; playing in a band.

At one point in my life, I played guitar for a wonderful little band that would often cover Blink 182 songs for a dozen or so kids at the local rec centre on a Saturday evening. Coming onto stage and hitting out the first few bars to Dammit was a wonderful feeling, and it really helped with my sex life.

While Rock Band doesn’t replicate the feeling of being fifteen years old again, it certainly allows you to wrap your hands up in masking tape, and pretend that you’re Tommy Lee.

Which, by the way, is fucking awesome.