Engagement Guitar Hero Style

I’ve recently become a part-time addict to the Guitar Hero series of games (i.e. 2 & 3 on Xbox 360). I say part-time due to a thankful lack of skill that prevents me becoming completely addicted. We were recently discussing in our lecture (I believe it was lecture 2) how our brain requires constant change in stimulus to keep it engaged in an activity, and this got me thinking about how this is easier in some games than others, and how Guitar Hero roped me in hook, line and sinker.

The game obviously provides a more engaging or attention intensive experience than most due to its very nature; excluding menus, there is no slack time in game (unless you’re playing the bass line to something like ‘Rock You Like A Hurricane’).

The game provides changing stimulus in many ways. Firstly, there is the variety of songs that you play as you progress through career mode. Especially the first time through, you don’t know what songs will comprise the next set. Even after playing through career mode, going through at a harder difficulty provides another level of engagement.

Then there’s the level of engagement required within each song. You never know when you’ll be plodding along knee deep in familiar riffage only to be blasted out of your reverie by a solo that you’ve got more chance of faking on a real guitar than nailing in this game. Take Metallica’s ‘One’ for example. You lull yourself into a false sense of security with the melodic and repetitive (but still brilliant) intro and rhythm riffs. You even boost your confidence by doing passably well at the ad-lib instrumentals dispersed within. Enter new level of engagement in the form of the Machine Gun riff. AND, when your arm is ready to fall off from that round of tremolo picking, you get faced with Hammett’s ridiculous finger-tapping solo in the form of a solid wad of notes tearing down the screen towards you.

Co-operative play also adds a whole new dimension to the game. Jump into co-op career with a friend and fire up your favourite dose of riffage, a tried and true tune that you can shred along to with your eyes closed. Only this time your friend steals the guitar line and you’re left with bass. So you sit back for three and a half minutes of bass boredom, only to find yourself struggling to keep up to the riffed-ramblings of a ballistic bass shredder, frantically hammering out a manic, albeit inaudible, bass line.