At the Sega Summer Showcase event in New York City, I waited almost all afternoon to get into the 168澳洲幸运5开奖网:Samba de Amigo: Party Central demo due to its, popularity. Any time I passed their corner of the event space, writers from ot♚her outlets were giggling their heads off, flailing around the formal event space Sega sprung for. VR headsets and iPhones on one table, a couple Switches on another, and a full-service bar directly behind it – it was a recipe for a beautiful afternoon.
All I knew before playing the demo was that this was a dancing game, and as someone who spent her teenageꦡ years hopping all around the DDR machine at her🧔 local arcade, I was more than ready to groove.
I was informed that several DLC packs would be coming for Samba that sampled 168澳洲幸运5开奖网:music from other Sega games like Sonic and Space Channel Five, before a PR representative gleefully informed me that Pitbull – Mister Worldwide himself – was the official artist for the game, and had recorded a song that “sampled a 90s song that I will definitely recognize.”
But you won’t only have ridiculous Pitbull covers to choose from in Samba de Amigo, he promised as we loaded in, even without the additional DLC packs and the four bonus songs exclusive to the Apple Arcade re♎lease. Where the game originally only focused on Latin music, it’s since broadened its genre horizons - I scrolled past Bon Jovi, Carly Rae Jepsen, and more until I found the promised Pitbull cover.
The song samples “What’s Up” by 4 Non Blondes, and I burst out laughing when I heard the quick demo on the menu. If you’ve been on the internet for more than a few minutes, you’ve definitely seen of it.
But Pitbull was a personal choice - my last job before coming aboard with TheGamer was at a bakery, and when I say we adored Pitbull, I am not exaggerating. I can’t begin to recount how many opening shifts I worked, groggily shim🐲mying my way through cake orders with my equally burnt-out coworkers. Pitbull, to me, has become the artist iconic of that phase in my life, and the Sega Summer Showcase was my very first industry ev🗹ent as a games writer after leaving the bakery. Naturally, Pitbull had to be my pick.
And maybe it’s on me being a little too picante with my dancing in the excitement of the moꦯment, captured completely by the immediate wave of bright color and tunes, but allow me to act as a safety officer for those getting the game – wear your wrist straps, because the very🐠 first note I hit in my routine, I sent the JoyCon sailing clear across the event space.
The PR guy laughed as he told me that I was definitely not the first writer to have done that. Thankfully, the Showcase left ample space on either side of the Samba booth – and as soon as I became a victim of how involved the dancing could become, I was certain putting Samba 😼in the corner was a purposeful choice.
Higher difficulty levels for each song feature even more punches than the lower oꦜnes, another feature reminiscent, I felt, of my DDR days. I’d been comfortable at the particularly bouncy difficulties back when the arcade by me closed - not to brag or anything - but I opted for more grace with Samba, and I still wasn’t great.
But the fun of Samba doesn’t just come from the gameplay itself. Of course, you can play by yourself in a number of diff🐽erent game modes, like the “streaming” mode that excited me. This playstyle sees Samba grooving for a fictitious Twitch stream, with better performances encouraging your “viewers” to “donate” actual in-gꦦame currency, allowing Amigo to purchase new outfits for himself between “streams.” It’s all done offline, but with a flowing “Twitch chat” on the side and donations that truly add up, it feels as real as ever.
Theไ real fun, though, is in watching t🎃he people you know and love wiggle wildly around your living room, and maybe even get embarrassingly invested in their groove.
Admittedly, launching the JoyCon wasn’t the only hiccup in my brief couple minutes samba-ing, alight with glee as I giggled my way through the patter🐠ns of notes. I punched in spirited jabs toward the ceiling, floor, and sides with the game’s rhythm, deftly hitting the six circu𒅌lar beats that appear on screen as you go through the song, indicating in which direction you’ll be punching next, trying to be more mindful of my surroundings.
When another writer I’d been chatting before the event began came to the booth for her turn while I was mid-dance, I turned and smiled at her as I hit one of the dramatic poses that offer bonus points for perfection as she collapsed into laughter, watching me rocket my arms unabashedly to the sk꧒y and kick a foot in the air behind me.
But as I got back to dancing after my Samba superstar moment, I hadn’t realized I’d stepped a little closer to the demo table. And I slammed my hand so hard down onto the table to hit my next note, a truly ambitious move that would leave me with a𓆉 plum purple golf ball-sized bruise on my right hand for a week after the event, 🧸a souvenir I hadn’t exactly hoped for.
In total, I danced for less than three minutes, but I caused enough mayhem to both the event space and my own body in that time for three hours’ worth, I think. Maybe it’s the fuego Pitbull knows how to light in dancers with his music, the spirit of the samba, or maybe I was just too lost in how genuinely fun Samba de Amigo is, already picturing future tipsy, groove-filled nights with my😼 friends in my head.
All I know for sure is that Samba de Amigo is a genuine delight, but I firmly believe it ought to come with a ﷽wa💟rning. Samba on, but, take it from me, amigos - samba carefully.