Amplitude takes the rhythm-matching philosophy of Frequency and refines it to near perfection—both in concept and execution. The game works like this: Using the directional pad, you select a track (vocals, bass, drums, etc., represented literally as a track) and try to keep up with the notes using the L1, R1, and R2 buttons; get two consecutive bars perfectly matched, and the track starts to play automatically, leaving you free (for a while) to work on another. In essence, you’re “constructing” a song; the better you do, the more layers of the song you hear. It’s supremely addictive, fun, and entrancing, and not just because of the flashing psychedelic tunnels of light. Plus, the feeling that you’re actually in control of a drum set or a base line is about as good as it gets. Rather than just limiting the music selections to electronica, the two dozen or so songs cover every gap, looping from Run-D.M.C. to Weezer then back through David Bowie and BT; you’re bound to find just as many artists on the soundtrack to love as to hate. The game’s Remix mode multiplies the replay factor by a hundred—a simple five-minute tutorial is all it takes before you’re creating your own versions of the songs as a sort of Zen meditation—and as a bonus, you can use them to challenge yourself, your friends, and the Sony online community at large. Still, truth be told, there’s only so many ways to remix “Dope Nose.” Amplitude is a purveyor of positive energy, a game that rewards you for acts of creation instead of destruction…the world would be a happier place with more games like it.
