No matter. Thumper's one of those experiences where the feedback you're getting is driving you forward so irresistibly you dare not look too closely at exactly what your hands are doing on the controller - for the fear that it will stop everything from working, and then where will you be?
By the end of Thumper, the speed is insane, the music wild and oppressive, and the feeling of just barely holding on to a beast that wants to send you flying so it can gnaw your bones is disturbingly strong. It’s a long ride from start to finish, especially for completionists looking to S-rank every section of track, but the feeling of learning this monster, never taming it but coming to grips with its behavior and meeting its challenges, is strong enough that even while the game beats you down it’s impossible to not want one more try.
Menacing boss fights that manage to stay interesting despite a relatively linear structure and a strange, chrome-plated brand of cosmic horror that’s as fascinating as it is frightening make repeat trips easy and exciting. But it’s the music and sounds of Thumper that will stick with me the most, beckoning me back to that terrifying abyss for several more hours to come.