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Mass Effect offers a homegenised humanity that I didn't really get along with. I wanted to sing a song that celebrated people's bodies for the unique individuals that they are. It will be interesting to see how Mass Effect 3 deals with all this.
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This was the first song I did with a different structure. When I was playing Mass Effect I was so distracted by the bodies. There were so many huge boobs, and I don't know if that was down to the space suits. But generally in videogames there are a lot of women in tight clothing.
A couple of the characters in Mass Effect everytime they were on I was like oh my god massive boobs. And the guys as well looked like they were on steroids. The messages that gives out, that there is only one way to be, made me kind of annoyed.
I was suprised how much people liked the fact that I was commenting on the world around games as much as the game itself. So I was really pleased with the response.
I found the lyrics really flowed for this song, although I did write about three or four versions. I enjoyed writing the second verse about where are the real men and the real women? You know like the majority of people you meet on the street.
We are all such masterpieces. We all carry a unique self around with us. I just grieve the homogenisation of humanity. Why can't we celebrate people for the individuals that they are.
In every game I play, the bodies are the same Conforming to the one acceptable template What's this game we play with our plastic fantasies So that reality can disappoint us And when we look in the mirror we look nothing like we're meant to Who's telling you what's beautiful Did you even get a chance to make your mind up Who's telling you what's desirable Cause you know there's more than one There's every flavour under the sun And I wanna see them all Where are the real men, the ones who are smiley The ones who are round and a little bit geeky The ones who are wild, the ones who are skinny The ones who are short and a little bit cheeky Where are the women big boned and proud With a mouth unafraid to tell you what it's all about Where are the small breasts like the tenderest, delicate, feather kiss And when you look in the mirror you look just like you're meant to Who's telling you what's beautiful Did you even get a chance to make your mind up Who's telling you what's desirable Cause you know that they dictate What we love and what we hate And it really ain't what we deserve We're addicted to perfection We're critics of our creation We're creators of abstraction Cause what can't we feel in this plastic thrill? Who's telling you what's beautiful Who's telling you you're beautiful
With so many different perspectives it can be hard to know where to start - a little like walking into a crowded pub. Sorry about that.
But so far we've not found a way to streamline our review output - there's basically too much of it. So, rather than dilute things for newcomers we have decided to live with the hubbub while helping new readers find the columnists they will enjoy.
Our columnists each focus on a particular perspective and fall into one of the following types of gamers: