Much has been written since the death of EGM last month. For most, the pain has subsided. Attentions have been shifted elsewhere. After all, it’s the internet, a capricious landscape of sweeping contradictions and short memories — the same group that most vocally grieved for EGM helped bring about its end. But that was January. It’s February, and by and large we’ve moved on.
But I’m always a little late to the party. It’s taken me a while to pick up on, and actually listen to, some of the post-1UP layoffs podcasts, namely the mammoth final episode of 1UP Yours and Robert Ashley’s A Life Well Wasted. And as I listened to these podcasts, I kept feeling, again and again, that something truly special had been lost. The tone of each podcast couldn’t vary much more radically: 1UP Yours is comprised of a rowdy group who joke, tease, laugh, drink, and find a way to squeeze interesting conversation into the mix. A Life Well Wasted is absolutely surreal, blending short conversations with haunting music into something more powerful than the sum of its parts. Where the two meet, where they reveal they have far more in common than their structures imply, is at their emotional core. Every conversation held, every laugh shared, every memory revealed shows that something genuinely extraordinary has been lost.
Has any publication ever fostered the sort of love EGM did? Over the course of its 20 year lifespan, how many people grew up reading this magazine cover to cover, absorbing every word, regardless of the game it pertained to? And how many of them thought, “This is what I want. This is what I want to do with my life.” And how many of them actually did it? It is, perhaps, the highest praise a publication could ever receive — its own fans were the very ones who grew up to give it new life and propel it forward for a new generation of readers. And that new generation felt the exact same thing. I should know; I’m one of them. I can see the very stories recounted in A Life Well Wasted echoed in my own life — the worst games ever made list, featured in issue #150, attained a mythical status among my group of friends, and the mere mention of Custer’s Revenge even today would likely call forth a smirk. I could probably still name most of the games on that list, and actually having played E.T. made it that much cooler. It also led me to experience the horror that is Nigh Trap in all its hilarious, campy glory.
The crew of 1UP Yours discussed the fact that many fans felt as if they got to know each podcaster over the course of the show, but that really knowing them wouldn’t be possible given the nature of something like a podcast. True, it’s not a reflection of real life. It’s impossible to really know someone through such a detached medium. But by so thoroughly communicating their own friendship on the show, they managed to pull in listeners, building a sense of powerful community and friendship, inviting us into their conversation, even if we couldn’t be there. The entire institution was easy to take for granted, but now that it’s gone, I feel like there’s a gap — on the internet, on the newsstand, and in the daily lives of those who felt a special connection with people they’d never met but hoped to one day work beside.
We’re worse off for the loss.
