Tape 1 ignites with emotional depth and a slow-burn promise
By Paul Hunter
Don’t Nod has masterfully honed the art of crafting immersive narratives woven from the threads of choice, connection, and the raw complexities of human experience. From the evocative Life is Strange to the poignant Tell Me Why, their titles possess an uncanny ability to draw players into richly realized worlds where every decision reverberates with consequence. Now, with Lost Records: Bloom & Rage, Don’t Nod delivers a bold evolution of this signature style—an entrancing coming-of-age tale that pulses with the bittersweet ache of memory, the enduring bonds of friendship, and the echoes of moments left behind.
Departing from the high-octane twists that defined some of their earlier works, Lost Records: Bloom & Rage embraces a deliberate, unhurried pace that captivates through its intimacy. Here, the stakes are not world-altering but deeply personal, rooted in the quiet evolution of relationships—how they blossom, fracture, and are refracted through the lens of time. This is a story that thrives in the subtleties: lingering conversations, fleeting glances, and the tender weight of small, defining moments. Players are invited to inhabit the lives of four teenagers teetering on the cusp of adulthood, their world untouched by the unrelenting march of reality—for now.
While echoes of Life is Strange may linger, Lost Records carves its own distinct path. Its innovative structure, introspective tone, and understated yet magnetic mystery set it apart, unfolding with a personal resonance that feels both fresh and profound. With only the first half of this journey unveiled, the tantalizing question looms: does this spellbinding opening possess the gravitational pull to keep audiences eagerly awaiting its conclusion? In Don’t Nod’s hands, the answer feels like an inevitability.
Lost Records: Bloom & Rage sweeps you into an electrifying dual-timeline saga that dances between the sun-drenched summer of 1995 and the introspective present of 2022. At its heart is Swann Holloway—a once-reserved teenager whose camcorder lens captured the fleeting pulse of youth—now drawn back to her hometown after decades adrift. A mysterious package addressed to her estranged friend Autumn shatters the silence of their shared vow to bury the past, thrusting them into a reckoning with the ghosts of their final summer together. What emerges is a tapestry of memory, woven with the vibrant threads of friendship, the indelible weight of formative moments, and a secret that hums beneath the surface, refusing to be forgotten.
Lost Records presents us with a time-bending odyssey where you wield control over Swann across two eras. In 1995, you’ll roam with the reckless abandon of youth; in 2022, you’ll navigate the shadowed corridors of adulthood’s hindsight. This ingenious structure amplifies the contrast: present-day exchanges between Swann and Autumn crackle with unspoken tension, while the past radiates a deceptive carefree glow, subtly laced with an eerie undercurrent. But don't go into this story thinking it's non-stop action—the pacing is a slow burn, especially in its opening act. While it masterfully builds intimacy with its cast, the central enigma unfolds at a deliberate tempo, withholding its full grip until later. Some scenes linger as memorable vignettes, rich with life but light on propulsion, potentially leaving you craving a stronger narrative thrust.
Even so, the character craftsmanship is nothing short of exceptional. Swann, Autumn, Nora, and Kat leap from the screen as vivid, authentic souls, each with a distinct voice that fuels a group dynamic as compelling as it is volatile. Your dialogue choices ripple through their interactions, underscoring the fragile beauty of teenage bonds teetering on the edge of rupture. Nostalgia isn’t just a theme—it’s a visceral force, conjured through the tactile relics of 1995: VHS tapes, scribbled diary pages, and the lived-in sprawl of their hometown Velvet Cove. These aren’t mere props but portals to a world that feels achingly real. Whispers of the supernatural tease the edges of the tale, tantalizingly elusive, leaving a trail of questions as Tape 1 fades to black.
The gameplay in Lost Records: Bloom & Rage strips away complexity to spotlight the raw power of dialogue, exploration, and Swann’s iconic camcorder. This isn’t a game of sprawling mechanics—it’s a finely tuned symphony of intimate interactions that plunge you headfirst into its soulful narrative. Every conversation, every corner of Velvet Cove, every frame captured through Swann’s lens builds a world that’s as immersive as it is restrained.
At the centre of the experience lies a dynamic dialogue system that places you in the driver’s seat of Swann’s voice. These choices—sharp, subtle, and everything in between—don’t rewrite the story’s destiny but sculpt the delicate contours of her relationships with Autumn, Nora, and Kat. One moment, you’re navigating the tension of a petty squabble, deciding whose side to take; the next, you’re leaning into Swann’s quirky, awkward charm, deepening her character with every word. It’s a masterstroke of nuance that transforms dialogue into the game’s beating pulse.
Exploration, meanwhile, invites you to wander the small-town streets of Velvet Cove, where every detail whispers of a lived-in past. From the flickering neon of the movie rental store to the windswept overlook and the gritty garage where the girls jam, the town unfurls as a nostalgic playground. Objects scattered throughout spark memories—some unlocking fragments of Swann’s history, others standing as silent objects of a bygone era.
Then there’s Swann’s camcorder—a stroke of brilliance that elevates the experience to something wholly unique. More than a prop, it’s your gateway to capturing the fleeting—whether it’s the girls’ laughter rippling across the lake or a solitary moment in Swann’s bedroom, bathed in the soft glow of youth. Adjust the frame, hit record, and watch as these snippets stitch together into poignant memoirs, viewed later through the grainy haze of a ‘90s lens. Whether you're perfecting a shot of the group’s antics or lingering on a quiet scene, the footage is a time capsule of emotion.
Lost Records: Bloom & Rage offers a breathtakingly vivid world where cutting-edge visuals and a meticulously crafted soundscape collide. The 1995 chapters burst with authenticity, every frame brimming with the chaotic charm of teenage existence—ice cream stores aglow with neon, bedrooms strewn with the detritus of youth, and Velvet Cove pulsing as a living, breathing time capsule. Fast-forward to 2022, and the atmosphere shifts: hushed, distant, and tinged with an emptiness that mirrors the relentless march of time. Though the locales are sparse, their execution is impeccable, with character models delivering an emotive finesse that anchors every scene.
Lighting emerges as a silent marvel, orchestrating mood with masterful precision. Golden sunlight filters through summer canopies, neon flickers cast a rebellious glow outside the bar, and Swann’s camcorder cloaks memories in a grainy, unpolished veneer—each effect a brushstroke that renders the past as tangible yet fleeting. The art direction is fantastic with a sophistication proving that brilliance lies in detail, not excess.
Animations are mostly polished, though occasional stiffness in facial expressions and lip-syncing could be improved. Dialogue, too, bears minor hiccups—slight pauses between lines that can nudge conversations off their rhythm.
The soundtrack plunges you into the ’90s, steeped in alternative rock and indie vibes that perfectly sync with the game’s soul. Background melodies whisper beneath the surface, amplifying pivotal moments, while licensed tracks inject raw emotional heft into key scenes.
Final Score: 8/10 - Great
Developer: Don't Nod
Publisher: Don't Nod
Genre: Adventure
Modes: Single-player
ESRB Rating: M (Mature)
A key was provided by the publisher.
By Paul Hunter
Don’t Nod has masterfully honed the art of crafting immersive narratives woven from the threads of choice, connection, and the raw complexities of human experience. From the evocative Life is Strange to the poignant Tell Me Why, their titles possess an uncanny ability to draw players into richly realized worlds where every decision reverberates with consequence. Now, with Lost Records: Bloom & Rage, Don’t Nod delivers a bold evolution of this signature style—an entrancing coming-of-age tale that pulses with the bittersweet ache of memory, the enduring bonds of friendship, and the echoes of moments left behind.
Departing from the high-octane twists that defined some of their earlier works, Lost Records: Bloom & Rage embraces a deliberate, unhurried pace that captivates through its intimacy. Here, the stakes are not world-altering but deeply personal, rooted in the quiet evolution of relationships—how they blossom, fracture, and are refracted through the lens of time. This is a story that thrives in the subtleties: lingering conversations, fleeting glances, and the tender weight of small, defining moments. Players are invited to inhabit the lives of four teenagers teetering on the cusp of adulthood, their world untouched by the unrelenting march of reality—for now.
While echoes of Life is Strange may linger, Lost Records carves its own distinct path. Its innovative structure, introspective tone, and understated yet magnetic mystery set it apart, unfolding with a personal resonance that feels both fresh and profound. With only the first half of this journey unveiled, the tantalizing question looms: does this spellbinding opening possess the gravitational pull to keep audiences eagerly awaiting its conclusion? In Don’t Nod’s hands, the answer feels like an inevitability.
Lost Records: Bloom & Rage sweeps you into an electrifying dual-timeline saga that dances between the sun-drenched summer of 1995 and the introspective present of 2022. At its heart is Swann Holloway—a once-reserved teenager whose camcorder lens captured the fleeting pulse of youth—now drawn back to her hometown after decades adrift. A mysterious package addressed to her estranged friend Autumn shatters the silence of their shared vow to bury the past, thrusting them into a reckoning with the ghosts of their final summer together. What emerges is a tapestry of memory, woven with the vibrant threads of friendship, the indelible weight of formative moments, and a secret that hums beneath the surface, refusing to be forgotten.
Lost Records presents us with a time-bending odyssey where you wield control over Swann across two eras. In 1995, you’ll roam with the reckless abandon of youth; in 2022, you’ll navigate the shadowed corridors of adulthood’s hindsight. This ingenious structure amplifies the contrast: present-day exchanges between Swann and Autumn crackle with unspoken tension, while the past radiates a deceptive carefree glow, subtly laced with an eerie undercurrent. But don't go into this story thinking it's non-stop action—the pacing is a slow burn, especially in its opening act. While it masterfully builds intimacy with its cast, the central enigma unfolds at a deliberate tempo, withholding its full grip until later. Some scenes linger as memorable vignettes, rich with life but light on propulsion, potentially leaving you craving a stronger narrative thrust.
Even so, the character craftsmanship is nothing short of exceptional. Swann, Autumn, Nora, and Kat leap from the screen as vivid, authentic souls, each with a distinct voice that fuels a group dynamic as compelling as it is volatile. Your dialogue choices ripple through their interactions, underscoring the fragile beauty of teenage bonds teetering on the edge of rupture. Nostalgia isn’t just a theme—it’s a visceral force, conjured through the tactile relics of 1995: VHS tapes, scribbled diary pages, and the lived-in sprawl of their hometown Velvet Cove. These aren’t mere props but portals to a world that feels achingly real. Whispers of the supernatural tease the edges of the tale, tantalizingly elusive, leaving a trail of questions as Tape 1 fades to black.
The gameplay in Lost Records: Bloom & Rage strips away complexity to spotlight the raw power of dialogue, exploration, and Swann’s iconic camcorder. This isn’t a game of sprawling mechanics—it’s a finely tuned symphony of intimate interactions that plunge you headfirst into its soulful narrative. Every conversation, every corner of Velvet Cove, every frame captured through Swann’s lens builds a world that’s as immersive as it is restrained.
At the centre of the experience lies a dynamic dialogue system that places you in the driver’s seat of Swann’s voice. These choices—sharp, subtle, and everything in between—don’t rewrite the story’s destiny but sculpt the delicate contours of her relationships with Autumn, Nora, and Kat. One moment, you’re navigating the tension of a petty squabble, deciding whose side to take; the next, you’re leaning into Swann’s quirky, awkward charm, deepening her character with every word. It’s a masterstroke of nuance that transforms dialogue into the game’s beating pulse.
Exploration, meanwhile, invites you to wander the small-town streets of Velvet Cove, where every detail whispers of a lived-in past. From the flickering neon of the movie rental store to the windswept overlook and the gritty garage where the girls jam, the town unfurls as a nostalgic playground. Objects scattered throughout spark memories—some unlocking fragments of Swann’s history, others standing as silent objects of a bygone era.
Then there’s Swann’s camcorder—a stroke of brilliance that elevates the experience to something wholly unique. More than a prop, it’s your gateway to capturing the fleeting—whether it’s the girls’ laughter rippling across the lake or a solitary moment in Swann’s bedroom, bathed in the soft glow of youth. Adjust the frame, hit record, and watch as these snippets stitch together into poignant memoirs, viewed later through the grainy haze of a ‘90s lens. Whether you're perfecting a shot of the group’s antics or lingering on a quiet scene, the footage is a time capsule of emotion.
Lost Records: Bloom & Rage offers a breathtakingly vivid world where cutting-edge visuals and a meticulously crafted soundscape collide. The 1995 chapters burst with authenticity, every frame brimming with the chaotic charm of teenage existence—ice cream stores aglow with neon, bedrooms strewn with the detritus of youth, and Velvet Cove pulsing as a living, breathing time capsule. Fast-forward to 2022, and the atmosphere shifts: hushed, distant, and tinged with an emptiness that mirrors the relentless march of time. Though the locales are sparse, their execution is impeccable, with character models delivering an emotive finesse that anchors every scene.
Lighting emerges as a silent marvel, orchestrating mood with masterful precision. Golden sunlight filters through summer canopies, neon flickers cast a rebellious glow outside the bar, and Swann’s camcorder cloaks memories in a grainy, unpolished veneer—each effect a brushstroke that renders the past as tangible yet fleeting. The art direction is fantastic with a sophistication proving that brilliance lies in detail, not excess.
Animations are mostly polished, though occasional stiffness in facial expressions and lip-syncing could be improved. Dialogue, too, bears minor hiccups—slight pauses between lines that can nudge conversations off their rhythm.
The soundtrack plunges you into the ’90s, steeped in alternative rock and indie vibes that perfectly sync with the game’s soul. Background melodies whisper beneath the surface, amplifying pivotal moments, while licensed tracks inject raw emotional heft into key scenes.
The Verdict
Lost Records: Bloom & Rage Tape 1 brings Don't Nod back to their narrative roots, offering a griping story that seizes your heart with the raw intensity of friendship, the relentless sweep of time, and the nostalgia of a frightful summer that defined a lifetime. From its minimalist approach to gameplay to the visuals that deftly capture the spirit of its twin eras, this game will immerse you in a tale of four friends still haunted by demons from their past. If the second tape is just as good as this first one, Don’t Nod may cement this franchise as another exceptional piece of narrative art.Final Score: 8/10 - Great
Lost Records: Bloom & Rage details
Platform: PS5, Xbox Series X|S, PCDeveloper: Don't Nod
Publisher: Don't Nod
Genre: Adventure
Modes: Single-player
ESRB Rating: M (Mature)
A key was provided by the publisher.