The Little Book of Sound Chips Volume 2: An Audio Powerhouse in Book Form

A second installment that fully embraces the chiptune sounds from across the Atlantic (and beyond)—Taken with an iPhone 8

Note: While the book's presentation is unique, I'm not keen on sharing photos of individual pages. Instead, I embedded some YouTube videos which highlight tracks and demos featured in the book itself.   

As gaming becomes recognized as mature medium for both its artistic merits and value in entertainment, scholars and enthusiasts are doing their best to document many early milestones. There are companies like Digital Eclipse who come out with fantastic anthologies, allowing the player to experience older games almost seamlessly via emulator while letting them comb through old manuals, box art, and even interviews with the developers themselves. Non-profit organizations like the Video Game History Foundation alongside hobbyist initiatives like the Retro Collective in Stroud, United Kingdom do similar work—hosting interviews on their respective podcasts, restoring microcomputers and scanning video game magazines for visiting patrons and scholars alike, and backing up ROM files as a means of preserving gaming history among other initiatives. 

When it comes to books, the Retro Collective’s Neil Thomas (RMC-The Cave on YouTube) has transcribed his podcast interviews into books form while Boss Fight Books works on weaving literary analysis and historical anecdotes with personal narrative in their ongoing book series. French book publisher Geeks-Line and Jeremey Parish catalog gaming consoles and their associated back catalog, condensing the work of the above groups into another digestible form. 

The trouble with these books is the fact that…well, they are read-only for a medium lives and breaths on player inputs. That and, if you are like me, then you may be wondering how you can at least experience the music from these games. This is where Chris Abbott and Andrew Laggan come in with their Little Book of Sound Chips series. With these books, technical documentation meets a museum formed from pages—whether you are flipping through the print version or surfing through the digital version dotted with hyperlinks. Published by the minds over at FusionRetroBooks, these books are gaming at not just a glance, but a radio broadcast clear of static and full of chiptune goodness. What makes this even better is these books are easily affordable—Volume 1 comes to £9.99 or US$12.17 while the second installment costs £14.99 or US$18.26 (currently on sale for £7.50 or US$9.13 at time of writing)—so you do not need to shell out a good chunk of your paycheck to experience what makes video games memorable.        

I backed both the first and second volume when FutureRetroBooks hosted their campaigns—and it was the second book that incentivized me to fully support this line of literature. My earliest moments in video games include the time when I accidentally pressed the eject button while my Dad played through Yoshi’s Island alongside all the moments I spent at a family-friend’s house playing Banjo-Kazooie, Mario Kart, and Mario Party, which in theory, would make me more inclined towards the third or fourth installments. When you discover the SID chip through a Canadian comedy troupe turned video production house and Paula through the many Amiga enthusiasts on YouTube, this makes it a different story.

The Little Book of Sound Chips: Volume 2 was the book I had most anticipation for where I could finally figure out what makes SID, Paula, Ricoh (NES/Famicom), and Yamaha (in the form of the YM2151) tick while also highlighting other arcade sound chips alongside more obscure ones. Some of the technical descriptions were slightly difficult to understand, but those who are well-versed with music and computer processing will appreciate the attention to detail. The brief glossary at the beginning of the book made much of these passages comprehensible without making me feel lost or lacking in knowledge—even if some of the jargon still seemed dense at some points.

This focus on the technical aspect of these chips is far from a setback in what is a great foray into video game history. Abbott and Laggan clearly want to make a book on music history in gaming for both computer-savvy technicians and those who fondly remember cruising down the beach in Outrun with “Magical Sound Shower” or “Passing Breeze”. For the latter crowd, the highlight comes in the form of myriad pages after the technical introductions and background history. Each of these sheets consists of the game’s title followed by a small (sometimes cheeky) description, a picture of gameplay, and a QR code. If you have a smartphone or tablet at the ready, these codes are a gateway to a YouTube video where you can hear the sound chip in action—and more importantly the soundtrack of said game. Sometimes, there is some gameplay included, especially with some of the Commodore 64 and Amiga titles, making this book into the afermentioned museum that I personally did not expect while reading through it.

Thing is, soundtracks are only a portion of what makes this book a solid entry about gaming history. Going back to the technical descriptions, you sometimes get a historical overview of the composers who took advantage of particular sound chips like with Rob Hubbard, Ben Daglish, Martin Galway, and many, many others who took advantage of both the SID and Paula chips in order to create soundtracks that made even the badly reviewed games worth playing. Missing these because the technical rundowns might be slightly difficult to comprehend takes a chunk out of what (and more importantly who) makes these soundtracks into something groovy and memorable. 

Same can be said for the brief introduction into the Amiga demoscene and the chiptune music scene that the Nintendo Entertainment System’s (Famicom’s) Ricoh 2A03 inspired. The way these composers use said sound chips among many others to create unique numbers is one of the driving forces behind electronic music—and in some cases dance music—making this book into a historical powerhouse. Without Ricoh, you would not have the likes Jimmy Hinson (Big Giant Circles) or Anamanaguchi, nor would you have soundtracks from composers like Shovel Knight’s Jake Kaufman or Cecconoid's H0ffman. With the QR code sections usually ending up with homebrew games of demo tracks, the respective music scenes only add to an already excellent showcase with spice and amplitude.

The biggest issue this book has come down to the possibility of link rot because these videos are all hosted on YouTube. It is unclear if, or when, these videos may be taken down because of a DMCA copyright claim, which is not the fault of the writers. That is a larger problem for both gaming historians and composers (professional, indie, and enthusiasts alike) to solve over time alongside larger parties—both in politics and tech. Of course, you can always search for the soundtracks and demos on YouTube by keyword, but the varying results might give you the wrong track (or the right track, but the wrong sound chip). For now, the QR codes work continuing to make this book sing with every audio chipset.

I do have one piece of advice though: If you want to scan the QR codes, you might want to make use of your tablet instead of your smartphone. Since it does not open with the YouTube app, but in a separate webpage, the play button is small. If you pause it, you might end up hitting one of the suggested videos unintentionally.

Otherwise, The Little Book of Sound Chips: Volume 2 is a tome of happy listening that both acts as a gateway to nostalgia and a portal to gaming history. Whether you are a retro gaming enthusiast, music composer, or even just love music for the sake of it, this book will sit proudly either on your shelf or your coffee table.   

The songs and documentation speak for themselves. No additional tuning required. 5 out of 5 Stars.

Writing for a Magazine, Waxing Nostalgically About Them—Plus Zines and Games

If you came here from Twitter, then you may already know that, a few months ago, I wrote a thing for Nintendo Force—a review of a game called Hpynospace Outlaw from Jay Tholen and his team at Tendershoot. In short, without spoiling anything, it's a lovely tribute to the web of the late 90's with a keen eye on details and aesthetics. Unlike the review I did for 1324, this one is only accessible via purchasing the issue on their website—available either as a print copy or digital file. If you're a huge fan of Nintendo, especially if you remember reading Nintendo Power back in the day, I would also consider a subscription to the Force through their Patreon page. Much like Hypnospace Outlaw, editor-in-chief Lucas M. Thomas and the rest of the Nintendo Force crew make the magazine feel like what preceded before it—a true spiritual successor that brings the same magic to generations of fans, both old and new. 

I thought that, instead of a regular entry, I would talk about my nostalgia for magazines like the Force and showcase a a few different publications from my collection—including a few zines. 

Nintendo Power was, in a manner of speaking, the magazine that started it all. Or rather, it was one of a few brands—including Expert Gamer, and Electronic Gaming Monthly—that piqued my interest in both the format and video gaming proper. There were also strategy guides for Nintendo 64 and Game Boy Color games games that my family and I ended up renting months after their initial release.

I should probably set up the picture: It's the late 90's and I was enrolled in an elementary school in Poulsbo, Washington that closed its doors in 2013 due to low enrollment. My first introduction to the Nintendo 64 was at a kiosk at the local Toys 'R Us in Connecticut, shortly before my first cross-country move, in 1996. I remember being more impressed by the fact that it was in 3D than anything else and many of the strategy guides—from Nintendo Power in particular—used models that were full-3D maps of the areas including Banjo-Kazooie and Ocarina of Time.

In fairness, I was more impressed by the strategy guides at that time for their maps. Nintendo Power for those full-on renders—shrunk down to fit a two page spread—and Versus Books who's maps had a more hand-drawn or canvas-esque look to them. I also had an obsession with collecting maps at the time, but that's a story for a different post.

It actually wasn't until 2003-2004 when I was gifted an Nintendo Power subscription that I became obsessed with them—both the magazines and the games. I was more keen on the Gameboy Advance, as I remember reading through the issue with the E3 announcements being stoked for the chance to play Super Mario Bros 3 on a handheld with the Super Mario Allstars touch-up alongside a new role-playing game in the series. The issue where they showcased the upcoming Nintendo DS was one of my favorites and, even with the awkward control scheme, I was as excited to play an updated port (or remake of sorts) of the game that got my attention at that same kiosk with more playable characters. 

It was another move—this time to a more permanent residence—that I decided to get rid of those strategy guides and magazines. This was shortly before I graduated high school when I started getting more social—more so than in elementary school—and I looked at those magazines at large alongside what was going on in video games and thought that having them around would feel somewhat juvenile, and weird to others. This of course was before I discovered how much the ecosystem around gaming has changed drastically—in many areas, for the better—and before I started not to worry so much about what other people thought about my own geekiness. 

While I digress, I did discover Douglas Adams and The Hitchhikers' Guide to the Galaxy through a Mario fan web-forum, so denying this whole aspect of myself—in full, or in part—was rather silly in hindsight. Most if not all of my interest in media across the Atlantic would stem from this moment alongside from my Dad putting on BBC podcasts—most notably the World Service bulletins and Chris Evans Drivetime highlights in the mid-2000s.

Other things about Nintendo Power before we move on: Biggest thing to note is that they were a publication initially published through Nintendo of America. Many issues that I had contained tips and tricks on recent releases and sometimes, they even did a small walkthrough—they did this with Tales of Phantasia on the Gameboy Advance. Almost every year that I was subscribed to it, they had their own awards with an issue for nominations. I don't remember if readers could submit votes though. 

Also, the issue pictured next to the Force was a gift that my late Uncle won for me on an Ebay auction—while I was still receiving my subscription. Surprisingly inexpensive, from what I remember, at around $10-20, but I can imagine that it's worth much more now.   

While I discarded those old magazines, I never forgot about the personal fondness I had for the games I played. There weren't many people I knew offline that I could discuss gaming with—without diverging into gatekeeping by either side, or with me doing into an ad nauseam explanation of a particular facet. However, there was one person who—much in the way that Mario led to Hitchhikers Guide—would eventually lead me to start collecting gaming publications again—both magazines and zines.

This was between 2009 and 2010, shortly after I graduated high school and begun my academic studies at a local community college. I helped tutor at an after-school program at a middle school that I used to attend and one of the adults, who I believe may have been a janitor or was related to one of the people who ran the school's library, introduced me to both Zero Punctuation and Unskippable. The comedy troupe turned small video production house, LoadingReadyRun, was responsible for introducing me to the Commodore 64 microcomputer. 

It was the sketches featuring the C64 and their web sitcom, Commodore Hustle, which made me fall in love with the SID chip before I fully knew what the SID chip was. I missed the old SID tunes when LoadingReadyRun transitioned to modern jingles in future episodes (from mid-2014 onward), but the impact the SID chip had would make itself known years later.

That would be in 2016, when I started getting back into gaming proper with a 3DS, Majora's Mask 3D, and ultimately the Sega 3D Classics Collection. I remember going onto YouTube one day browsing Steve's Benway's back catalog—I found his channel back in 2012, but I forgot who introduced me to him—and I noticed that Nostalgia Nerd was one of the suggested channels.

This was my foray into the YouTube rabbit hole of vintage tech and software and it was slightly overwhelming—Kim Justice, Banjo Guy Ollie, RMC, Metal Jesus Rocks—but I was reintroduced to both the SID chip by exploring YouTube's retro gaming sphere and also discovered the Commodore Amiga with its MOD community. 

As for the associated magazines, I'll go through them in brief...

FREEZE64 (pictured above) is a fanzine for the Commodore 64 created by Vinny Mainolfi and he puts a lot of work into each issue. Each one features an interview with a developer who worked on some Commodore 64 games, a closer look at the game featured on the cover including cheats, the "Mouldy Cupboard" where Vinny plays an obscure or poorly rated game to see if it holds up, the "Secret Squirrel" which unearths hidden secrets within the code of Commodore 64 games, and "ZZAPBACK" which looks back at the highly rated games in a past edition of the Zzap 64 Magazine. 

(FREEZE64's also how I knew about the 8-Bit Symphony Kickstarter with the add on the back of my first issue.)  

The Amiga Power album (also pictured above) is a creative tribute to the Amiga Power magazine in the UK. There are two CDs filled with remixes to classic Commodore Amiga games—Speedball 2, the Chaos Engine, Cannon Fodder, etc—from well-known Amiga composers like Chris Huelsbeck and Barry Leitch among many others. The Mighty Booklet provides a snapshot into the humor and style of what the Amiga Power magazine was like with each track looking back at how the game was covered by the writers. I personally enjoyed the entire thing...and wish that I could find an Amiga of my own or at least be able to play with one in a museum—playing Turrican the proper way among other games.       

So lastly, there are these...

The Zzap 64 Annuals, much like the Amiga Power album, harken back to Zzap 64 of the 1980s. They are another UK-based publication, but unfortunately, I don't know as much about them. I enjoyed reading through the 2020 Annual, but haven't had the opportunity to start on the 2021 Annual. The cover art by Oliver Frey is incredible and well-detailed, and there were a few neat pieces including an article on a Steampunk Commodore 64. They also review games recently developed for the microcomputer from both indie and more mainstream developers which is really neat! 

I'm done waxing nostalgically about gaming magazines, but I wanted to showcase one more set of magazines from my collection that I enjoy reading... 

   

I'm very biased here with this set for many reasons that go without saying. For those unfamiliar, I'm a huge fan of the CheapShow podcast which I started listening to three years ago. It's a podcast that has changed my life for the better in myriad ways—but more importantly it's a podcast that is hilarious and brings spark to the more inexpensive side of life. 

Now the humor will not be for everyone—they sometimes engage in huge swaths of blue humor—but the passion they put into each episode is further reflected by the fans. There's the CheapShow Awards with the voting organized by Rhianan, the Urinevision Song Contest, the logo designs by Page (ep. 50-149) and Tony (ep. 150-present), and there's also the Unofficial CheapShow Magazine from Ivenne who is also responsible for the 1324 zine.

YouTuber Timmus TSET has done quite a few videos showcasing the magazines—including one dedicated to the D10 issue and another for the Sticky Album (both pictured above)—that I recommend giving a watch to get a more detailed look.

Here's what I will tell you in brief: These magazines are well-designed from cover to cover and serve as an excellent companion piece to the podcast. There's a theme to each issue and many of the sections from the show—including Silverman's Platters, Price of Shite, Cheap Eats, and a section dedicated to noodles—are well-represented in print. Every issue also has a few puzzles to solve and features interview with one of CheapShow's hosts or friends of the pod, which made it one of the highlights of supporting CheapShow via Patreon. It was also one of the things that made me appreciate the podcast and what Paul and Eli try to do with it on a now-weekly basis. 

Of course, having them in print was even cooler. From the sixth issue onwards, there were cover gifts which ranged from Barcode Battler tribute cards, a mini cd, and a booklet on Asian brands, to an entire tabletop campaign. I finally got around to trying the first campaign of the D10 issue last summer and I thoroughly enjoyed it. I also appreciated how easy it was to understand—especially as someone who has never played Dungeons & Dragons outside of Baldur's Gate on Switch—and was already knee deep in the campaign within ten minutes.   

If you're a CheapShow listener and love what your hearing, I'd go over to Patreon, give them some monetary support, and check out the magazine—Issue #11 came out in April and Issue #12 is just around the corner.

...and that concludes my nostalgic waxing on gaming and magazines, along with showcasing some of my favorites in the collection. I hope you enjoyed it! I'll try to be less sporadic and more frequent in posting from hereon.