"Darling it's better, down where it's wetter...."

It's fair to say that the DS has been home to some fairly odd games in its short lifespan. A game where we cram a virtual dog into the system's two screens? Let's make three separate versions! A silhouette love story about raging bulls and Mohican hairstyles, and with a heavy emphasis on goldfish? It spawned a sequel. A game where you take charge of a lawyer, actually shouting ‘objection' into the mic? Hell, that was so popular that the demand continues to outweigh the supply even now. Fancy turning your hand to surgery? Why the heck not? Polarium? That's just drawing lines on the screen. Brain Training? Well that's just homework that you have to pay £25 for. So to say that Electroplankton - from the mind of sound-loving loon Toshio Iwai – is the oddest title to hit the DS yet is quite a claim. That said, it is about poking musical fish, so it probably deserves that dubious accolade. But is Electroplankton so fundamentally, irretrievably bonkers that it actually can't really be considered a game any more? Quite possibly…..

Electroplankton is one of those titles that until recently would never have seen release outside of its native Japan. Essentially it is a music generator, with the stylus being used to manipulate various types of sub-aquatic life-forms (the Electroplankton of the title) in order to see what noise they make, with the idea being that hopefully you will eventually make some sort of aural sequence that is not only bearable, but actually sounds quite good. So far, so conventional. But the make-or-break factor in the title comes in the fact that though there are ten different types of Electroplankton to digitally abuse, you can only experiment with one at a time, rather than stringing several types together to make some sort of techno-cacophony of sound, and – most controversially – even if you manage to make some sort of sonic masterpiece, there is absolutely no way of saving your achievement. In short, Electroplankton is all about being in the moment, as opposed to being about the end result. This will probably both revolt and entice music-lovers in equal measure, and definitely makes Electroplankton an acquired taste, but if the idea appeals to you, there is a surprising rewarding experience on offer here.

The majority of Electroplankton on offer are controlled with the stylus – there are some that you must spin, with a higher pitched sound and greater amount of colour being produced the faster they go. There are some that follow the line you draw on the screen, making different noises depending where they're going. There are some that grow from scratch at a point on the screen that you tap, getting louder as they get larger, before they eventually die. Some produce sound effects from classic Nintendo games like the Mario coin noise, allowing you to string together a soundtrack to these games from scratch. And there are even some that leap out of the water at a nearby plant, making different noises on impact depending on how you angle the leaves (in a move that comes perilously close to giving you some sort of actual objective, it is possible to actually make the flower bloom if you angle everything right). These form the more relaxing side of the game – the colours, though diverse and by no means dull, are all presented in a dreamy, almost washed out state, and the sound quality is naturally impeccable. It's nearly a hypnotic experience just sitting down to tinker with this aspect of Electroplankton, letting the sounds and sights wash over you as you move the stylus around. It is here that you realise why neglecting a save feature is probably the wisest move that Mr. Iwai and his aurally-fixated goons could have made: Electroplankton - though a music-maker – is in many ways not actually about the music that you make – it's about the relaxing, somewhat trippy process of making it. As soon as you start focusing on the end goal of making something great, you naturally start thinking ahead with regards to what you are going to produce, and this is completely against what Electroplankton stands for.

On the more technical side, there are also some Electroplankton that work using the DS' microphone. One species works by having several fish swimming in a line across the screen. Tap one of them and say something, and when the fish reaches this point in the screen again it will repeat back what you said. At first you will inevitably use this feature to see how many swear words you can make your DS throw your way at once. Then you'll probably use it to recreate the classic Bud advert with the talkative frogs. But with your mischievous side sated, you may well realise the potential that this throws up – by singing into the mic, you can essentially create multi-part harmonies all by yourself, which is novel, and more than a little exciting when you finally make something sound good. The other microphone mode sees you saying or singing something into the mic, and then manipulating the pitch, tone, or speed – you can even play it backwards to see if there are any Led Zep-style satanic messages hidden in your voice. These microphone-based shenanigans initially seem to be more appealing than the other types of play on offer, and at first it is great fun hearing your own voice coming back at you out of the DS stereo speakers. That said, though, the enjoyment here is far more limited – it's just not as tranquil as the other modes, and is far less rewarding in the long run.

Essentially that's all there is to it – you can see all that Electroplankton has to offer in the first half-hour of play, but at heart that doesn't matter. You won't spend hours playing this, but after a night out clubbing, coming home in the early hours with a foggy head and ringing ears, and smelling of other people's perfume and cigarettes, it is the perfect way to wind down. After a hard day at work, when the traffic's been murder and your boss has been giving you stick, it's the perfect way to relax. If you have exams at school or college, this is the perfect way to relieve a little stress and tension. It's all about the mellow ambiance and chilled sounds and colours, and the thrill of discovery (on many play modes tinkering with the D-Pad or shoulder buttons can affect things in unexpected ways, and finding out just what those ways may be is half the fun).

So is it a game? Probably not, to be honest, but it is certainly an experience. Some people will absolutely hate it, some will fail to see the point, and some may love it. As a full-price release it's maybe a bit of a risk, but if you bought a DS because it could offer something a bit different, well this is about as different as it could get. No plot. No objective. No complex level design. And yet, in it's own unique way, Electroplankton is quietly and unapologetically marvellous.

It's well worth a try, even if you don't fall for it's slow-paced sub-aquatic charms.

Reviewer's Score: 7/10, Originally Posted: 08/09/06