January 2026 feels like a turning point. News of studio closures and struggling sales paints a grim picture of the modern video game industry – a landscape increasingly dominated by fleeting live services and exorbitant costs. It’s a disheartening shift for anyone who remembers a time when games were built to be cherished, not endlessly monetized.
The trajectory seems clear: fewer ambitious single-player experiences, ever-escalating console prices, and a relentless push towards subscriptions and microtransactions. While this trend has been brewing for years, the speed of its acceleration is alarming. It begs the question – what will the gaming landscape even *look* like in just six months?
Driven by this disillusionment, I’ve found myself drawn back to the past, embracing the world of retro gaming. It’s not simply nostalgia; it’s a rediscovery of the core joy that initially captivated me. These older games remind me *why* I fell in love with the medium in the first place, and highlight just how much has been lost along the way.
My gaming journey began with the Super Nintendo. Though a fleeting memory of a Commodore 64 exists, it’s the SNES that truly sparked my passion. Attempts to revisit the Commodore have been unsuccessful, unable to recapture any specific fondness for its library.
Fortunately, the SNES is readily accessible today, especially for those with a Nintendo Switch. Nintendo Switch Online + Expansion Pack is a fantastic entry point, offering a diverse range of titles – including classics and obscure gems, even those originally exclusive to Japan. It’s a surprisingly comprehensive portal to a bygone era.
I’ve amassed a collection, including both US and Japanese SNES consoles (European versions were notoriously flawed). Rarities like *Wild Guns*, *Castlevania: Dracula X*, and *Hagane: The Final Conflict* hold a special place, but my current obsession lies with the Sega Saturn and Dreamcast.
The Saturn is a uniquely fascinating console for retro collectors. A massive success in Japan, it was a commercial failure almost everywhere else. This created a wealth of Japanese-exclusive titles – exceptional games that were never localized or even widely known in the West.
The research involved in uncovering these hidden treasures has been as rewarding as playing them. There’s a thrill in discovering a forgotten masterpiece, a feeling that’s amplified by the relative obscurity of the Saturn. It’s almost *too* easy to find information about it now, a paradox for a console I wish I’d explored during its original lifespan.
Thankfully, the Saturn remains somewhat under the radar, making emulation challenging and keeping its hidden gems relatively affordable. Titles like *Shinrei Jusatsushi Tarōmaru*, a fantastic ninja game, *Bulk Slash*, a compelling mech action title, and the now-renowned *Radiant Silvergun* have become personal favorites. *Sōkyūgurentai* and *Tryrush Deppy* also deserve recognition.
Acquiring these games in good condition can be expensive, but patience and diligent searching can yield reasonable prices. The satisfaction of owning a physical copy, proudly displayed on a shelf, far outweighs the cost of a fleeting digital license or the constant pressure to purchase cosmetic upgrades in a “free” game.
My faith in modern gaming has waned, but my passion for retro gaming has only grown. There’s an entire universe of undiscovered experiences waiting to be explored, a world that feels far more sustainable than the current trajectory of the triple-A industry. It’s a world I suspect will provide enjoyment for years to come.
