Hi-Fi Rush Is A Rhythmic Action Game In Nearly Perfect Harmony

Hi-Fi Rush is for the folks who live inside of their music. The people who toe tap on the bus, ever so slightly bang on their seats to the rhythm of the song in their head, or quicken their pace to meet a song’s beat and fantasize about looking cool. I feel music like this everywhere I go and have been looking for something that resembles that feeling for some time. Now I have Hi-Fi Rush and it fucking rips.
Seemingly made in complete secrecy by Evil Within developers Tango Gameworks, Hi-Fi Rush is my dream game come true. I’ve always been a sicko for action and rhythm games, but have admittedly only excelled at the latter since music was a significant part of my upbringing. And though I’ve always heard the analogies about combos in action games being rhythmic, few games have ever taken the actual step towards visualizing that in the way Hi-Fi Rush does, or made it as simple to understand. That is just the first in a long string of things that the game gets right. Setting players up against a metronome that’s brought to life in the world around you makes the game feel magical, and by extension you are magic for harmonizing with it. I loved, for example, during one particular combo that needed me to hit the light attack four times with a rest breaking it up into two segments, that the rest was realized in the character model, clearly delineating when it was time to continue. Because of the constant visual and audio aids, slapping enemies with your magnetically assembled impression of an electric guitar to the beat has never made it simpler to execute short but satisfying combos, only made better by many of their flashy finishes, which also demand accuracy to land most efficiently. I swear the game will have you counting beats, and I often caught myself head banging ever so slightly to Hi-Fi Rush’s impeccable score while wailing away at enemy encounters.
Most satisfying among those are the boss fights, which tend to take things up a few notches, especially as they often use licensed songs such as Nine Inch Nails’ “1,000,000” or a phenomenal Flaming Lips cover that made me feel like a plucky underdog overcoming insurmountable odds. It’s corny but it works to such tremendous effect that it’s hard—nay, impossible—to argue against it. In these particularly scripted flights of fancy, it becomes especially important that you be able to pick up on the song’s construction and intuit when to dodge or parry and when to close in and strike. The music here accomplishes what it does in my real life every goddamn day: lead me by the hand to some revelation, or at least some clarity.