Goodbye, Farewell, And Amen To The Xbox 360 Store And XBLA. Words Cannot Express How Important They Were To All Of Us

The Xbox 360 Marketplace Is Dead, And There's No Positive Spin To This One

Ode to Blades

It's been a minute since I last penned a blog on this site. The truth is that I have upwards of three essay drafts that are primarily finished but require editing and proofing, and I often lack the energy to complete them. Nonetheless, there are items from the past I would like to reflect on before they become entirely past their expiration date. This essay is not a tribute to the titles that graced the Xbox 360 store and Xbox Live Arcade (i.e., XBLA). Instead, it is a celebration of what I consider one of the first full-featured online digital storefronts on a console and an early pioneer of business practices and monetization systems that have become standard in the gaming industry. I'll leave the lamenting of potential lost media to experts, especially the Internet Archive and the usual assortment of YouTube essayists. My lack of interest in the list of non-backward compatible Xbox 360 games speaks volumes on how good of a job Microsoft did for ages in bringing games from the original Xbox and Xbox 360 to their current duo of consoles. While there were a few games I eyeballed buying, like Eternal Sonata, what I initially thought would be thousands of lost titles worth eulogizing ended up being far fewer than that. What is left behind is primarily a glut of questionable license-based properties and Kinect-based titles that make very little sense to exist outside the context of their initial releases.

What I cannot help but miss now is the store itself. I will not just miss "The Blades" or Avatars; I'll also remain nostalgic for the digital marketplace that millions like myself used to morph into adult consumers of gaming content. Every generation is different, and things have certainly changed since the early 2000s when the Xbox 360, PS3, and Wii were our console choices. We learned a lot thanks to the Xbox 360 Games Store and XBLA. XBLA alone provided many like myself, who remained exclusively in the camp of console gaming with our first exposure to what we would call "indie games." And it is not just fans who owe much gratitude to the 360 marketplace. The selling of DLC and map packs and the idea of maintaining a multiplayer-based game well beyond their initial release in the console realm took off, thanks to what the 360 did. Sure, the PS3's online store definitely "got there," but that was almost in response to what its 360 counterpart had been doing for years and better. If you want evidence of how ahead of the curve the 360 marketplace was, look at the Wii Shop and how much of an afterthought it was outside of its stellar music. The notion of a video game console or device not having a feature-rich online presence and marketplace with advertisements, microtransactions, and post-release season passes to shill is simply unconscionable, even if it is a discouraging direction.

Yes, much of what the 360 Store and XBLA did reflected what id Software and Epic did with their PC games. Doom WAD and Unreal Tournament modding and map pack cultures predated XBLA by whole decades, and I don't want to discredit their contributions. Nonetheless, the Xbox 360 marketplace and XBLA made core ideas and practices previously held by the fringes and most extreme corners of PC gaming mainstream. Not all of these experiments or ideas were sustained beyond the 360, but the ones that did are still alive and present today. Call of Duty 2 had three DLC map packs; Call of Duty 3 had two; the original Modern Warfare had two. Now, look at the state of the series and the normalization of the Season Pass format. This monetization mechanism would only exist if console marketplaces became more seamless and willing to open the floodgates for online-only content. That example might not be a positive legacy of the Xbox 360 store to some of you. Still, it is undoubtedly evidence that it played a massive role in reshaping the way we consume video games, a legacy that its shuttering will never take away.

XBLA Wasn't A Perfect Partner For Indie Devs, But It Was A Jumping Stone

I told you this blog would get a little nostalgic.

I fully admit this part of my essay will sound like histrionics, but hear me out. While I understand "indie games" have existed for as long as there has been a video game industry, XBLA represented a jumping-in point for millions into self-published games that never had a chance at being picked up by major game publishers or stocked in store shelves. I know I'm not alone, but spending just 800 Microsoft Points to play a three to five-hour game downloaded to my hard drive was a paradigm shift. Up to that point, at least for people stuck to console games, video games had to be bought in big box retailers like Toys R Us, GameStop, Fry's Electronics, or Best Buy. Sure, John Carmack, Richard Garriot, Time Shcaffer, and Cliff Bleszinski might speak of when they whipped up game codes, pressed them on CDs, and boxed their games to be stocked in PC hobbyist stores. However, while there was a homebrew and self-publishing streak in the world of PC games, it was an incredibly narrow period. For anyone who started gaming past the SNES or Genesis, that hobbyist culture took more work to find. Big box retailers crushed the stores that made room for homebrew games in most countries, and PC-building culture took more work to participate in than it requires today. Stores with PC parts for you to buy piecemeal favored urban hubs, and without reliable broadband internet, consoles were the start and end point for millions engaged in gaming.

So, with Microsoft having an entire blade in its original 360 UI/UX where you purchased what they then called "microgames" and additional content for games in your library, it was a surprise. At the time, console games and their post-release content weren't sold digitally to the degree they were on PC, and while that continues to be the case to this day, the 360 represents a not-insignificant change in the industry as a whole. To those like myself at the time, the idea of downloading whole games, regardless of how big they were, was new. Likewise, mainly due to the original download size limits at the time, the games released on the 360 game store or XBLA were noticeably different from everything else you could play on your console. Sure, there was an adjustment period wherein Microsoft didn't know how to price things, with Geometry Wars pegged at 400 Microsoft Points while Bankshot Billiards 2 was twice that price. Nevertheless, there was something magical about playing something like Call of Duty 2, booting up Geometry Wars as a pallet cleanser, and feeling like you were discovering a new side to the gaming hobby. Games could be smaller in scope and size and yet just as satisfying, if not more, than the big AA to AAA titles that paid the big dollars to get preview coverage on gaming sites or cover pages in gaming magazines.

Are you able to hum the Geometry Wars main theme?

XBLA's "Summer of Arcade" program was far from perfect, but it felt like one of the earliest attempts by a console manufacturer to put smaller game titles from independent studios to the forefront. Likewise, Microsoft did a somewhat admirable job of striking a balance between having marquee indie titles alongside more popular or mainstream ones to create a natural "trickle-down" effect. Was it awkward to pair Fruit Ninja Kinect with Bastion and Insanely Twisted Shadow Planet or Marvel VS Capcom 2: New Age of Heroes alongside 'Splosion Man or Shadow Complex? Sure, but let's also concede that Microsoft's strategy of making XBLA a place for all its big and small partners was working. Microsoft's initial policy of treating the Xbox Games Store as a walled marketplace and enforcement of a policy wherein they rejected games if they were released initially on competing platforms bit them in the ass in the long run. Nonetheless, being exposed to games like Braid or Trails HD while searching for trailers for Call of Duty or song packs for Rock Band led to enlightening moments. Speaking of Braid, while the game's failed anniversary edition is drawing scoffs and its creator, Jonathan Blow, is a well-established chud; that game proved essential in showing that self-published indie games not only were viable on consoles but also that the console community was more receptive to games as an art form than assumed initially at the time.

I will admit that this is not an entirely novel experience for the 360's ecosystem. The PlayStation Network (i.e., PSN) had indie games, and Sony invested millions into independent developers, much like Microsoft. Journey and the Pixel Junk series immediately emerged as examples of Sony's knowing there was value in digitally sold games and that they needed smaller developers to provide unique experiences on their consoles. And there's no denying that even during the height of its influence, Microsoft's digital policies and sometimes heavy-handed moderation policies were at times unnecessary and resulted in undue burdens on indie developers. Phil Fish and his struggles to patch Fez highlighted one of the more unfortunate self-inflicted wounds of Microsoft's Gold Age with the 360 it could have easily avoided. Remember when Microsoft charged for game patches on Xbox 360 or blocked developers from releasing games above 50 MB on XBLA? According to the Hydrophobia devs, they couldn't afford the high price of patching their game and were forced to leave the 360 version in a less-than-optimal state until Microsoft changed their policy. Nevertheless, there was a weird advantage in the 360's camp. Its ID@Xbox program and XNA tools created games that felt unique and decidedly more homebrew. Two games that come to mind are Cloning Clyde and Outpost Kaloki. Both were games that I loved at the time but also immediately recognized would never justify being pressed on a disc and boxed on the shelves of your local GameStop. XBLA gathered a weird but compelling assortment of console-curious developers who did not fit traditional console game developer molds.

The 360 Marketplace Was So Incredibly Important For Normalizing Now Popular Genres And Industry Practices, Both Good And Bad

This version of the marketplace wasn't as bad as people said at the time.

The horse armor DLC in The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion has become an eternal meme, but it seems incredibly quaint by today's loot box or gacha standards. For better or worse, the 360 marketplace pioneered many business practices that we often bemoan but are also a cudgel the most prominent figures in the industry rely on today. FIFA Ultimate Team card packs and cosmetic gun skins in Call of Duty are a given every waking day in the gaming hobby from this point forward. Whether you blame XBLA or PSN for allowing exploitative free-to-play hooks and normalizing them or mobile games is open to debate, but this is the era where the debate on if they should exist in the first place was thoroughly lost. You may be willing to beat the war drums in trying to caution consumers like James Stephanie Sterling does whenever a modern video game releases with in-app or in-game purchases. Still, when you look at how many games now have online marketplaces with dozens of in-game currencies for real-world money, I look at the issue like advertisements built into television UIs; at some point, we, as consumers, lost. Unless you are willing to turn your back on whole game genres, the alternatives are few and far between, with even indie games embracing measured elements of what has become commonplace within AAA game circles. And how many of you sigh when you hear of a game you were excited about released "hot?" Even when it seems like preview coverage looks solid, I accept that for most games, I'm better off waiting a month or so after a game's release because the dawn of digital marketplaces and wireless updating means that the definition of a game release is different than when the 360 and PS3 first launched. However, I now take the passive response rather than the active one, which involves not getting upset or calling on others to participate in boycotts.

Nonetheless, the ability to patch and support one's game digitally is not as universally negative as people sometimes make it out to be. For one thing, developers can fix their games with an automatic update when they realize that they shipped something with a critical bug, which, while annoying to the consumer, benefits everyone. We often perceive that games once shipped pristine and without the need for day one patches, but that is far from the truth; games have been released with bugs all the time, and on console, you were just stuck with an inferior product while the PC version got updated. Final Fantasy IV and VI both released with game-breaking bugs that either hard-locked games if players performed logical and simple move sequences, and while Squaresoft recalled those carts and offered full refunds, not everyone was bound to get the memo. It's also dangerous to assume developers want to ship buggy games to land an easy paycheck when, in reality, many are forced unwillingly into difficult situations with tight release schedules. The modding community saved Obsidian's original vision on Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic II: The Sith Lords, but only on the PC. The console version of KOTOR II is forever borked, and when compared to how things played out with Obsidian's equally hot at launch, Fallout: New Vegas, you can trace the game's eventual path to respectability as a massive sign of the need for digital patching on all platforms.

It wasn't always easy to find what you wanted on the 360 store, but those who used it got use to it.

And not all games have been mean-spirited in how they now use digital marketplaces to sustain themselves years after their release. Lest we forget, for every horse armor, there were indie games releasing content updates with cut content or concepts that would not have existed in any previous era of video games. Then there were AAA games like BioShock 2 or Mass Effect 2, providing epic set pieces and character moments that complimented your previous adventures. Halo 3 dominated the 360's multiplayer landscape until the rise of CoD, thanks in part to its regular map pack support. Guitar Hero and Rock Band pioneered selling song packs that helped to maintain the freshness of their standalone releases, and the Xbox 360 marketplace changed to make searching for that sort of content easier. Lament the Blades UI/UX all you want, but tracking down song packs for Guitar Hero was an absolute pain in the ass on it, and it was twice as bad on the PS3's version of XMB. Noisy, and maybe guilty of subjecting you to absent and useless space, Metro was a step in the right direction for Xbox's marketplace. Metro is no Zune UX/UI, but it's snappy and has a lot of adjustability options.

And some genres would not be where they are today without XBLA. I lament the game being connected in part to Orson Scott Card. Still, Shadow Complex was a monumentally important work that reminded us that Metroidvanias within an indie game context could be utterly rad. The same goes for Bionic Commando Rearmed and Trials HD. XBLA led to a revival of video game leaderboards after the arcade scene died. I don't know about you, but maintaining my Xbox Live friends list meant something special to me, and trying to complete Project Gotham Racing 3 time trials just a few seconds better than my friends or collecting a few geoms more than the person above me in Geometry Wars: Retro Evolved 2 was an absolute thrill. Early limits on how many friends you could have on Xbox Live were a frequent annoyance, but it also meant that you had to develop networking skills to see who was active and who was on hiatus. And team-based online shooters, despite the default Xbox 360 headset sucking complete shit, required communication and teamwork that essentially was a PC-exclusive phenomenon. The ability to form parties, host special events, maintain leaderboards, and create challenges seem like simple things today. Still, XBLA and the Xbox 360's online features made them thoroughly connected to modern console gaming crowds.

Yeah, I Heard Microsoft's Promises That A Solution Is Coming, But I'm Not Holding My Breath

Not all of these games were great, but most of them still deserve the right to be bought and played.

As already mentioned, while hundreds of games are now lost, the majority of these games are ones I wouldn't want to play, even in my darkest moments. Some insiders have heard that Microsoft plans to enact some "plan" to make even more of these lost titles available through its Backward Compatibility program. I'm not buying it. Microsoft stopped giving a shit about adding 360 games to its compatibility program back in 2021, and there's no doubt that the Xbox of today is a different beast entirely. Microsoft barely understands how to respect or maintain its portfolio of games it controls in its wheelhouse, let alone third-party titles that helped it build a media empire nearly twenty years ago. If Phil Spencer can't convince Satya Nedella to keep whole studios or titles under a consistent vision or platform, there's no way he's convincing him to see the value in fifteen-year-old games. It's a future-focused direction to a fault, but one that still admittedly makes money. Even then, have you taken the time to log into your Game Pass or Xbox Account and seen how few people from your 360 friends list even have an Xbox Series console?

Likewise, Microsoft's maintenance of the 360 marketplaces for this long was always an industry aberration. Sony and Nintendo have not maintained digital marketplaces as long as Xbox has, and that's not exactly breaking news. When buying retro or classic titles on a Nintendo platform, I have resigned myself to the fact that I'll likely have to purchase digital copies of games once again whenever new hardware is introduced. And Sony has previously been far more aggressive about sunsetting older digital marketplaces than Microsoft. And even if console manufacturers found it in their hearts to maintain these servers and services in perpetuity, that likely would not stop game publishers from pulling the plug on their own titles. EA, Take-Two, and Ubisoft are the worst offenders, but there are plenty of smaller developers that cut bait with ill-fated online games or digital releases, and they are the ones, not console manufacturers, that force titles to become impossible to play. Konami pulled PT, Versus Evil erased Afro Samurai 2 from the world, every modern racing game with real-world car models gets pulled from marketplaces five years after release, and EA and Take-Two pull sports titles and online shooters the minute online numbers drop to where it doesn't make them enough money.

There may have been a DOTA-like that you enjoyed back in the day on the 360. Unfortunately, the odds are that even if you could download it, it would likely not work. XBLA's 2010 Summer of Arcade program saw the release of Monday Night Combat, an incredibly forward-thinking game that is a progenitor of the modern class-based hero shooter game. I know a Steam version of the game exists, but I didn't play that game on my PC, and the people I have fond memories of playing it with aren't available there. Despite carving a formative memory, the game is effectively dead. On the one hand, the digital tools that the Xbox 360 Marketplace and XBLA pioneered freed games and developers. On the other hand, they also created the current landscape in which everything feels fleeting or impossible to maintain. Did the people who worked on the 360 ever foresee that? Probably not, and it does seem harsh to hold that against the console or the impact of its now-discontinued marketplace. Nonetheless, it's an increasingly more common occurrence; we have all become numb to the certainty that our digital goods are far more aberrant than we thought they were nigh fifteen years ago. I know the value of physical goods now, but teenaged me leaped at the opportunity to switch to the digital age to save space and time. So, I say farewell and amen to what we have lost. And also, thank you to those that made things possible.