A Quick Look At Godzilla Generations

Godzilla is something of a cultural phenomenon in Japan, and the franchise has spawned no less than 28 different movies (30 if you include the two Hollywood adaptations). The appeal of a bloke in a rubber suit smashing up cardboard cities while super-imposed crowds flee is pretty universal though, as can be demonstrated in the way multiple movies following the same template have been produced. Hollywood movies like Cloverfield and Pacific Rim owe a lot to the Kaiju genre, in which massive monsters attacking major cities is a running theme, and the popularity of these types of film in Japan is demonstrable by the sheer number of them. With this in mind, that the Dreamcast played host to a Godzilla game upon launch should be no surprise, and in 1998 that's exactly what happened with the release of Godzilla Generations.

I can actually recall the first time I saw shots of Generations in a copy of GamesMaster Magazine, and it did look very impressive. Granted, back in early 1998 every Dreamcast game looked spectacular but the way in which this game promised the ability to wander around fully realised cities smashing the hell out of everything looked like nothing else. Actually - I tell a lie. It did remind me a little of Iron Soldier on the Atari Jaguar, another game that allows you to walk around in a giant robot blowing cities up...but in a much more rudimentary and pedestrian pace than Godzilla Generations promised. It came as something of a shock then, when Godzilla (and the Dreamcast) finally landed and the reviews were almost universally critical of the game. While the graphics were praised, the game was branded as slow, boring and ultimately just not very good.

The PlayTape Conspiracy

We're big fans of fanciful and completely false conspiracy theories here at the 'Yard...especially ones we fabricated ourselves. Who can forget the time Sony implanted PlayStation logos in a Dreamcast game? Or when Southend Museums stole the Dreamcast's logo and used it to their own nefarious ends? Of course, this is all just a bit of fun, but there's a chance we've unearthed another (completely tenuous) Dreamcast conspiracy. Have a look at this video from YouTube channel Techmoan:

If you can't be bothered to watch it, allow me to explain. PlayTape is a fabulously obsolete music format that was apparently quite popular for a brief period in the late 1960s. That is, until the magnificence of the 8-Track swept it aside with the swagger of a pre-digital iPod in platform shoes and a flowery shirt. I know that doesn't actually make a lot of sense, but I'm sure you get the (extremely weak) analogy. Anyway, as I was watching the video above I noticed that the PlayTape logo shares a particular aesthetic with the Dreamcast logo: swirls.

Scraping the Bottom of the Barrel

I thought I was more or less done with Dreamcast game collecting. With over 400-500 games in my possession (depending on how you count regional duplicates, demo discs, etc.), I felt that I had pretty much royally overdone it and owned far more than was ever going to be necessary. It would be almost impossible to find the time to play them all in the remaining weekends and evenings I have left before the sun sets on my miserable pile of secrets, but that sobering thought never slowed me down. I even went the extra mile, acquiring many of the games originally destined for Dreamcast but ended up on competitor's consoles when Sega lost their marbles and went third party. I invested in arcade hardware like NAOMI and Atomiswave in order to get all the Dreamcast games that were never ported into the home. I had traveled not just one extra mile but all of the extra miles and reached every dead end. I was done.

And then this happened:

Damn you Mike Phelan!

It turns out I was not done, I was in fact far from done. There were all these tiny little dark and twisted narrow detours and blind alleys that my Dreamcast searchlight had originally failed to reveal. Games I never knew existed. Little known games by developers I loved. Games whose impenetrable Japanese seemed less frightening with the helping hand of Mike's accessibility guide. My collection now seems woefully incomplete and my interest was reborn. I think I might just get a few more games, maybe a couple of dozen, no more than two score tops. I don't need all of them, I can totally stop anytime I want. Seriously.

Guest Article: Expanding The Dreamcast Collection Part 1 - The Naomi Connection

Ross O'Reilly is no stranger to the world of NTSC-J Dreamcast collecting or arcade gaming. Not least because he lives in Japan and his apartment is stuffed full of arcade machines and Dreamcasts. Here in this first of a series of guest articles at The Dreamcast Junkyard, Ross explains why the Dreamcast collection you have may seem complete, but is in actual fact far from it. The Dreamcast's history is intertwined with that of the Naomi arcade machine, and here Ross explains how you can expand your library of Dreamcast-style games by getting involved in the Naomi scene. At this point, I'd also like to point out that all of the quality artwork is the work of the author. Cough.

Ross, over to you...

I’d assume that many of you reading this already own a substantial Dreamcast collection or have at least played a wide variety of games on the system. It’s been almost 18 years since the console was first launched in its home territory of Japan, and while it’s still getting support (unofficial at least) to this day, the number of new titles has of course dwindled since its heyday.

Most gamers, even fans of the Dreamcast, moved onto greener pastures long ago. But what’s the hardcore Dreamcast fan to do?

Support the indie scene: A worthy cause no doubt, but let’s be honest, the quality of these titles are rarely anything special and never up to the standard of the Dreamcast’s best Sega developed games.

Import: Finding games that were unreleased in your home territory can be great fun. Whichever region you’re from, I can guarantee that there are a tonne of great games that never came to your shores. Many of us have already done this for years though; the list of import games we’ve yet to play is diminishing fast. What next?

Complete sets: The hardest of hardcore collectors can go for a complete set, but if we’re honest, the Dreamcast wasn’t that good; there were still a tonne of crappy games that came out for it. Do you really want a shelf half full of absolute rubbish you’ll probably never play and certainly not enjoy? Oh, you do? Well, even if that’s the case, I presume you wouldn’t turn down the chance to find some new 'good' games to play.

But don’t worry, there is still hope! In this series of articles, I’ll detail how you can expand your collection and find more than enough fresh content to keep you happy and out of the whisky bottle for at least another year or so. All you have to do is ever so slightly redefine the meaning of 'Dreamcast game.'

Japanese Dreamcast Promotion Disk

What with all the writing and playing of Dreamcast games lately, I'm developing gnarled claws where my hands should be. I blame that infernal controller with it's guillotine edges. No matter how much lard I rub into my palms, I just can't rid myself of the cramp and so I decided to make a lovely video for your delectation, rather than spend ages hammering out guff on my internet-enabled steampunk typewriter, while simultaneously listening to whale song playing on an 8 track. Hipster? You don't know the half of it squire. 

Anyway, a few weeks ago a chap named James sent me a rather spiffing selection of Dreamcast demos from the shores of Japan, and in amongst said collection was a GD labelled simply as a Dreamcast Promotion Disk. It also has 'not for sale' printed on it, and this piqued my interest. In all honesty, it's probably just a disk for use in shop-based demo pods and the like, but I thought it was worth investigating further. Cast your eyes downward, hit play and all will be revealed!

As ever, if you know more about this disk than I, please share the knowledge in the comments. Edit: it turns out the demo is from the Japanese Dreamcast Magazine, which I kind of suspected seeing as the logo for said periodical popped up at one point in the video. Still, an interesting item nonetheless as all of the other demos from that magazine are numbered and have a completely different look to them. More on those coming very soon!

A Quick Look At Jikkyou Powerful Pro Yakyuu

Of all the popular American sports, ice hockey is probably my favourite. I know other countries (including the UK) play ice hockey and have domestic leagues, but for me the NHL is the go-to for fast, ice-based violence/fun; and the similarities it shares with soccer make it quite easy for me to enjoy. There are two teams, two goals, two goalkeepers, and a thing that needs to be put past said 'keeper to score a point. Simple.

At the other end of the spectrum, NFL - or American Football - is the least penetrable to me. To my stupid foreign eyes it looks like a chaotic mishmash of rugby and Gaelic football, two other sports I have very little interest in. Sandwiched betwixt these extremes like two slabs of pastrami are basketball and baseball. Basketball is alright, but it just seems like the teams take it in turn to score (yawn), and baseball is just rounders with a bigger bat and 90,000 screaming drunks lining the field (probably). Oh, and there was a film starring Kevin Costner about it once. I think it was called The Postman. But I digress.

T3's Sega Dreamcast Anniversary Special

November 27th 1998 marked the Japanese release of the Dreamcast. It was a momentous occasion, and while not on the same level of notoriety as the bat-shit crazy European launch that featured drunken cameos from Chris Eubank, Nigel Benn and Verne Troyer, it's still an important event. 

As it's November 27th 2015, the 17th birthday of the Dreamcast, T3.com has featured the story as one of its main articles. In the name of transparency, I must admit that it was written by me and the process involved the laying out of most of my peripherals and random Dreamcast components all over the living room table so they could be photographed (much to the annoyance of my girlfriend), but thanks must go to Rob Jones for asking me to write a feature for such a prestigious website. If you don't know, T3 is one of the world's foremost technology and gadget magazines and websites and is published by Future Publishing. You can find the article here.

A Quick Look At The NeoGeo Pocket Link Cable

I recently picked up a NeoGeo Pocket Link Cable for the very reasonable price of £30. That may seem expensive for what is essentially a bit of wire, but these things seem to be getting rarer all the time and so for that price I snapped it up sharpish. The only other one I've seen for sale recently was around £50 and they regularly go for upwards of that on eBay. Before I get ahead of myself, I should probably explain what the NeoGeo Pocket actually is - I sometimes forget that not everyone is as au fait with antiquated gaming technology as I am, and in turn I know there are people with far greater knowledge than I possess...so I'll try not to get anything wrong!

The NeoGeo Pocket was a handheld console released in 1998 by SNK that initially featured a monochrome screen but was later re-released with a colour screen and rebranded as the NeoGeoPocket Color (I'll overlook the missing 'u' on this occasion). It's a nifty little piece of tech and has a rather lovely clicky microswitch thumbstick like most other NeoGeo consoles do. The system's library isn't very large and the screen can be a bit hard to see sometimes due to it's lack of either a front or back light, but it does hold a certain charm and the library is brimming with cool portable versions of popular SNK franchises like The King Of Fighters and Samurai Shodown et al.

What's also quite intriguing is that Sega and SNK collaborated in order to add Dreamcast compatibility to the system and a select number of Dreamcast and NeoGeo Pocket titles are able to communicate and allow various items to be unlocked or data to be swapped between the two systems. Obviously, both the Dreamcast and the NGP come from a pre-WiFi or NFC era (although apparently there is a wireless connector for linking NGPs), so the only way it was really feasible for these two units to connect was via a link cable. And that's exactly what this little post is all about.

Not to be confused with the NeoGeo Pocket system link cable (pictured above, NEOP-10021), the Dreamcast link cable (NEOP-22020) allows you to connect your NGP/NGPC to the Sega system via the serial port on the rear of the console and the Ext. port on the top of the handheld, but vitally only a handful of games actually make use of this function. According to Racketboy.com the full list is:

• King of Fighters R-2 (links with King of Fighters ’99 Dream Match and Evolution)
• SNK vs Capcom – Match of the Millenium (links with Capcom vs SNK 2)
• SNK vs Capcom – Card Fighter's Clash (links with King of Fighters Evolution)
• SNK vs Capcom – Card Fighter's Clash Expand Edition (links with Capcom vs SNK 2)
• Cool Cool Jam (links with Cool Cool Toon)

I own four of the titles listed (KoF R-2, KoF '99, KoF Evo and Card Fighter's Clash) and so I set about trying to get my Dreamcast to communicate with my NeoGeo Pocket. As a side note, I own the original NeoGeo Pocket and not the Color variant and so I rarely play on it due to the difficulty I regularly encounter trying to see the screen. 

The monochrome version does have some 'ghosting' issues, especially in fighting games (which sadly make up most of my library), but the screen is nowhere near as bad as something like the Tiger Gamecom. The reason I mention this is because most of the downloadable and uploadable things in both KoF R-2 and the two Dreamcast titles are things that you must earn points to unlock. And as I've barely played R-2, I didn't have much in the way of spendable currency.

From what I could tell though, the vast majority of items are artwork images and the like, so while it's a nice little extra feature, you aren't missing much if you don't happen to own a link cable. What's interesting is that the link cable works with both the NTSC-J and NTSC-U King of Fighters games, with a Japanese NeoGeo Pocket, while all being connected through a PAL Dreamcast using a boot disc to play imports. Just thought that was worth sharing, although it's common knowledge that the NGP is region free. When it comes to ascertaining what the uses are when linking Card Clash to Evolution...well, I have no clue to be perfectly honest. I couldn't actually tell if it was even doing anything when it was linked so I'm none the wiser. If you know better, enlighten us in the comments!

In summary then, the link cable is a nice little oddity to own - especially as it was relatively inexpensive and they are now quite rare. As for usefulness? I'm not sure I can recommend that you go out and spend a small fortune on one. There's no real benefit as far as I can see other than it's a cool item to have in your collection. The build quality is very nice and the little box halfway down the cable has a nice chunky SNK logo on it...but that's about all there is to it. I did read in an old Dreamcast magazine that Sonic's Pocket Adventure was going to have some sort of connectivity with Sonic Adventure 2, but I guess that never materialised.

As a footnote, I guess it's quite apt that these two systems have intertwined lifespans. They do have certain similarities in that they were both the plucky underdog and both lived relatively short lifespans. Happily though, they've now found each other again in the great Dreamcast Junkyard in the sky and the link cable is the tie that binds them.

Nikkei Dreams: Business On The Dreamcast

The Dreamcast is often described as a system that was ahead of it's time, and in many ways it was. You only have to look at all of the ingenious peripherals and add-ons; even the lowly memory card, the VMU, is a technical marvel when you think about it. The entire range of official and unofficial enhancements is as staggeringly large as it is diverse, but perhaps the most important of them all is the one many of us forget is even there these days - the little modem stuck to the rear of the system. While the modem and the internet services it allowed played something of a minor role in PAL territories, and online gaming was a huge success in the US, over in Japan the humble modem played a much more interesting part in the story of the Dreamcast.

While the Dreamcast is first and foremost an entertainment machine, the modem allowed Sega Japan to look beyond it's primary function and decide that the console should also be used for other, non-gaming purposes. For instance, the console was installed in Toyota car showrooms and a whole range of bespoke 'Doricatch Series' GDs were produced. These were little more than advertising demos for various Toyota vehicle models and are today some of the rarest examples of NTSC-J exclusive Dreamcast software on the planet.

Dreamcast Partners Club Welcome Pack (With English Translation)

The Dreamcast Partners Club was a Japan-only membership club that Sega offered to subscribers, and gave Dreamcast owners access to exclusive content. This content was mainly delivered in the form of the Dreamcast Express demo discs, but also allowed members to collect Dream Point Bank credits that could be exchanged for swirl-branded trinkets, peripherals and the teeth of long-dead warrior kings. Here in Europe, we never got the option to join the Partners Club (and neither did US gamers), so it remains something of an unknown chapter in Dreamcast folklore to many.

This bank is more trustworthy than most.

Thanks to a reader called James though, we can now show you what you would have received in the post as a welcome to the Dreamcast Partners Club had you taken the plunge and signed up. It's mainly the usual stuff you'd expect - membership cards and welcome letters and the like, but there's also a copy of that bizarre Yukawa puzzle game and an intriguing VHS tape. James has promised to get the tape digitised and uploaded to YouTube asap so that we can share it here, but in the meantime cast your peepers over the rest of this intriguing letterbox spam Dreamcast paraphernalia...

The Dreamcast Karaoke Unit

Ever since I first discovered the mysterious karaoke add-on for the Dreamcast, I knew I had to have one. I have spent years scanning eBay and forums looking for a reasonably priced unit, and even enlisted the help of DCGaga at one point, reaching out across the ether to see if it would be possible to have one purchased and shipped to the UK from the distant shores of Japan. Ultimately, the price of surface shipping and the lengthy wait put me off (although I'm thankful for the assistance!), and so I went back to searching auction sites and retro 'for sale' groups. Occasionally I did spot a unit on eBay, but the sellers wanted extortionate sums; and I even discovered a shop in the UK which had one in stock...but again the pricing seemed a little exorbitant for my (admittedly shallow) pockets.

The problem with collecting obscure items for any system is usually an issue of price and trying to accurately determine whether the thing you're searching for is actually worth the equivalent of a months' wage. In many cases it really isn't, and this particular story could have ended in the same way countless others have - with me splashing out money on something I couldn't really afford and had no real need for, other than morbid curiosity and being a complete sucker for anything even remotely Dreamcast-related. We all have our vices, and things like cigarettes and alcohol are clearly on a different level to collecting retrogaming hardware and software, but the similarities are plain to see. It's more a desire to feel that buzz when you finally land the previously unattainable, and the addiction factor of knowing you just have to have that add-on or peripheral or game can be as destructive as either of the aforementioned. But before we get too dark, let's turn the brightness back up: I managed to bag a boxed Dreamcast Karaoke Unit for £40 in an eBay auction! It took me several years, but I finally got my prey. The question is: was it worth the wait?

A Closer Look At Dreameye

As mentioned here many, many times in the past, present and (probably) future, the Dreamcast has a fantastic number of peripherals - both official and third party. Just look back through our recent articles and witness the unrivalled majesty of the DreamPhoto Treamcast mouse for a good example of the latter. While that isn't technically a Dreamcast peripheral per se, you get the gist of what I'm saying...hopefully. So with this in mind let us turn our gaze, rather fittingly, to another of the Dreamcast's lesser-known peripherals: Dreameye. While it's true that our very own Gagaman wrote a short article on Dreameye back in 2009, I thought it was time that we took a closer look...

Mighty Morphin' Power Boards

Last weekend was amazing. Really, really amazing. For several reasons. The first - and most important - was that it was Revival Events' self-titled Revival 2014, a massive retro-gaming event held at Dunstall Park racecourse in Wolverhampton. I was there as part of the RetroCollect team, running loads of gaming challenges and just generally chatting to gamers and acting the fool. Another reason it was amazing was that I got to meet, chat with and actually touch the flowing hair of John Romero:

The photographer wasn't happy with the focus

In case you're unfamiliar with what the genius behind Doom looks like, that's him on the right. Not the grinning fool on the left - that's me. To be fair I was grinning like that because Mr Romero had just whispered the secret to his flowing mane into my ear, and as you can see this was greatly received as my hairline is receding faster than the Norfolk coastline. He also signed my boxed copy of Doom for the Atari Jaguar, so there was that too. But let's get back to the reason you're here: I also bought a Dreamcast. Yes, another Dreamcast. but unlike all of the others I now have clogging the entrance to my bathroom, this one is different. It came in a box...with an orange swirl:

Yes, I bought my first NTSC-J system for the bargain price of £50 from a trader called Sore Thumb Retro Games. And to say its in great condition is an understatement. The console has no signs of yellowing at all, and has all of the documentation including the Dream Passport (sealed) and manuals. Naturally, being a Japanese system the plug adapter ends with two prongs and simply will not fit in a UK power socket. And even if it could, the power coming out of the wall would likely travel down the wire, into the console and instantly transform the immaculate white box of fun into a large ball of flame, simultaneously causing untold collateral damage to any curtains, throw cushions and random empty beer tins in the vicinity. And in my gaff, there's always a high probability that empty beer tins could also be hidden inside the throw cushions, so the damage bill - in this hypothetical situation - could easily be triple that caused inside your average residential shit-hole. In order to prevent the aforementioned cataclysm, I employed the services of one of these things in order to play on my newly purchased NTSC-J machine:

That's a converter thingy. You put the foreign plug in one side and the UK three-pronged side into the wall socket, and by some kind of magical process no doubt involving a tiny wizard living inside the device, the horrid nasty UK electricity transforms into Japanese Dreamcast-friendly power! See - magic! So anyway, I played the DC for a bit, mucked around with the menu and changed the language to English and marvelled at Sega Rally 2 running a bit quicker...and then I went to do some other menial task that life dictated I must do. It was probably the washing up or something...to be honest I've totally forgotten. Actually, it could have been folding some towels up. Or was it some ironing? Fuck it - I can't remember.

Anyway, I totally forgot (there's a theme here) that I'd left the Dreamcast plugged in to the step-down transformer. It wasn't until a few days later that I went to turn on the Dreamcast again that I discovered it would not turn on. I was pretty stumped until I deduced that leaving the transformer plugged into the mains must have damaged it in some way - indeed, the smell of burning wizard flesh coming from the vents on the side of the thing added weight to my hypothesis. So there I was, left with a Japanese Dreamcast and a dead step-down transformer. I looked on eBay for another one, but being a bit strapped for cash having spent all my money buying the secret ingredients to concoct John Romero's Magical Hair Serum™, I decided that I would investigate an alternative remedy to getting my NTSC system up and running again. I took to Twitter and asked the question - is it possible to put a UK power board inside a Japanese or US Dreamcast in order to use a standard UK plug with it, thus negating the need for a converter. Amongst others, The Gagaman himself answered my call - the answer was a resounding "yes!"

Knowing I had a load of spare PAL Dreamcast bits knocking about, I decided to give it a go - putting a UK power board into an NTSC Dreamcast. Here's how I got on:

And there it is! An NTSC-J Dreamcast happily humming away with a UK plug adapter attached to it, with nary a step-down converter in sight. It's a really easy operation to carry out providing you have the parts handy, and I've also kept the original board and plug in the box just in case I ever move to Japan and feel the need to take a native console back there with me.

I'm off to apply some of my hair serum now. If I end up looking like a Cacodemon, I'll be writing a strongly-worded email to my old pal John.