"Sun-Animalcule says: bloop!"

Rec-Rec is no Trent Reznor.

Hailed by many as an innovative, entertaining piece of software, and named by just as many one of the most pointless games on the DS, Electroplankton is by far one of the most clear-cut cases of love it or hate it. I say clear cut because chances are you'll know exactly why you love it and exactly why you hate it; the simplicity of Electroplankton can lead to no complex discussion on the matter, unless you're just weird.

This game lacks a save feature for your music. Now, you're either still with me, or you're pissing and moaning about how stupid of a move that was on Nintendo's part.

Thanks for sticking with me. Electroplankton is quite unlike any other ‘game' you've played. Actually, this isn't really a game. It isn't software, either; it's an experience. Electroplankton is different in that it's an entertaining experience, and it holds on to you. It's not gimmicky (well… maybe the concept itself is, but whatever), it's not flawed in any big way (the save feature is neglected because it really isn't needed). You will never play Electroplankton the same way twice. I mean, unless you purposely try to, in which case, by all means.

In Electroplankton, you make music with your little plankton. There's a total of ten different types of plankton that each perform differently for you. Some are more restricted, like Volvoice, who simply modulates and distorts whatever noise you make into the DS' microphone. On the other hand, there's some totally free ones like Marine-Snow, where the control of the noise is entirely at your fingertips.

Each plankton makes music in a different way. With, say, Sun-Animalcule, you'll tap the touch-screen to place a plankton down, which will bloop or bleep every other second. From left to right you have the scale of noise from low to high, so you can place one on the lower end and one on the higher end and then one in the middle to create a quick little repeated tune. You can place them wherever you like. You also have to take into consideration that it'll go from day to night, and when it hits night, the sounds differ. The plankton all explode eventually, too, so you have to be on the ball, somewhat, if you're bent on continuing your sound.

Another, more simple example is Rec-Rec. Four plankton float across the screen. Tap one to record your voice to it, and play your voice back to one of many background themes (including industrial - yay!). Record for each of the other plankton, maybe this time recording a beat of some sort, and you can essentially make a little repeating song, which is so much cooler when you're actually doing it yourself as opposed to reading its possibilities.

Or maybe you really aren't into crafting your own music. There's another mode - and the only other mode in the game - for that; performance mode. This mode acts like a demonstration of sorts, manipulating the plankton for you to create its own sounds. Should you be faced with a custom built beat that you like yourself, you can even jump in and begin fooling around with it.

Each plankton is as open for many possibilities, so you can see why you'll probably never end up doing the same noise twice. There really isn't much else to say about Electroplankton, because that's really all there is to it. You make noise with plankton, and you can't even save it. You can get more powerful noise-creating programs on your computer for free. But Electroplankton is different. It feels different. It offers multiple options for noise-making and allows you to be immersed in the experience. It's really love it or hate it, and you probably won't honestly know which side you're on until you give this great software a spin.

Just don't expect to put out the next Pretty Hate Machine.

Reviewer's Score: 8/10, Originally Posted: 04/18/06