Video Game Vinyl: Does Physically Owning a Game Matter?

I recently had a bit of a clear out. Not the most enthralling way to begin an article I know, but trust me, the relevance of this menial task will become clear.

Ten years ago, upon my drawers, bookshelf and any other kind of IKEA-manufactured surface, you would find a PS2 game stacked, balanced or perched. A decade and two gaming generations later, I discovered one extremely neglected drawer containing six or seven Gamecube game cases, with miniature disc dweller absent, and one Playstation 2 game (when on earth did I purchase Drakengard?).

Moving back downstairs, I looked at my singular pile of physical Playstation 4 cases.

Pathetic.

I’ll be the first to admit that back in E3 2013 when Microsoft announced the Xbox One’s addiction to the Internet had forced it to become an ‘always online’ console, coupled with its seemingly limiting share features, I, along with the rest of the gaming world, panicked. Not because of any ridiculous NSA conspiracy theories, but because of the nail Microsoft seemed to be determined to hammer into physical game copies’ coffin. Despite the continuing prevalence and excellence of Valve’s Steam service, as well as DRM-free services such as GOG, changing the focus of video game purchasing to online had me worried.

Nowadays, most people recognise that Microsoft were on the right track; they just took the step too early. Now, the aforementioned PC services are joined by Sony’s Playstation Now and despite apprehensions surrounding pricing, online purchasing (or effectively streaming) games seems to be moderately successful. It is important to recognise that the online capabilities of the current generation allow the development and dissemination of indie games to flourish. Which is fantastic. Many of the games that do not fall under the ‘AAA’ title just wouldn’t have made it to market due to the huge cost of manufacturing physical copies. As Adam ‘Atomic’ Saltzman noted in an interview with The Guardian, ‘If consoles were pure AAA right now, you’d rarely get anything new to play’.

But if physical game copies are such a commodity, then why does their quality seem to wane?

Obviously, one of the most appealing aspects of physical game copies is the instruction manual. This resonates with me personally as I have been constantly involved in the literary world, both personally and professionally, for almost half a decade now. Opening up World of Warcraft to find a comprehensive 200-page manual was of course daunting, but also awe-inspiring. Looking back, it seems that games used to exist in multiple mediums simultaneously; as both digital and literary experiences. Nowadays, video game cases are occupied by unread health warnings or codes for layer upon layer of downloadable costumes, minutes of extra content or advertisements leading you to other franchises. This is because you can’t establish that the disc goes in your console and not your oesophagus, that everything you paid for is not on the disc, and that you don’t know what you like.

What with the resurgence of vinyl among those too young to have experienced it, noted by the recent Record Store Day, perhaps our children will eventually begin a video game revival; shunning their virtual finger replacements and brain implants in favour of a scratched-up DVD and a cuboid cartridge. Perhaps stores like CEX and GameStop will become the modern-day vintage shops, and we’ll have boutique shops down rustic streets in our cities devoted to the sale of video game manuals.

Speaking of which; immortalised head-jar Alan Sugar, if you’re reading this in 2073, give me a brain chip interface telepathic communication. Or a phone call