So I just finished Across the Grooves and honestly, it’s one of the best games I’ve played in a long time, it completely blew my mind. It’s the kind of game that sneaks up on you. On paper, it sounds simple: Alice, a woman with a steady life in Bordeaux, receives a mysterious record from her ex. She plays it, and suddenly she’s reliving a memory. When she comes back to the present, her entire reality has shifted, her fiancé is gone, her friends don’t recognize her, everything’s changed.
What follows is less about flashy time travel and more about the quiet weight of choices. A conversation at a bar, a cigarette on a balcony, a missed train, each small decision ripples out into an entirely new present. That’s where the game shines: showing how fragile and malleable identity and memory can be.
The first thing that strikes you is the art. The hand-drawn, European comic-book style gives the whole story this intimate, lived-in quality. Cities, bars, and train stations feel real but tinged with magic. When Alice is “in” the music, the visuals burst into color and texture, almost overwhelming. The soundtrack is just as good, adaptive, atmospheric, and deeply tied to the storytelling. It’s not just background music, it shapes the emotion of each scene, carrying you from wistful to devastating with subtle shifts. Play with headphones if you can, the crackle of vinyl, ticking clocks, and distant chatter make the whole thing immersive.
The story takes you across Europe in search of answers, but it gradually becomes more about self-discovery than fixing the past. Gameplay is straightforward: no minigames or quick reflexes here, just choices that branch into different personalities and endings. And the choices actually matter. They don’t just alter dialogue, they change Alice’s demeanor, her relationships, and the entire story path. Replayability is huge because each run reveals new artwork, new characters, and fresh shades of joy or regret. It’s crazy how one small decision can take you to a completely different ending.
The writing is surprisingly mature, tackling themes like regret, longing, and the dangers of chasing “what ifs.” The record itself is a brilliant metaphor: each time Alice plays it, reality warps further from her memories, and something precious is lost. You meet others who’ve been touched by the record, Enzo, the old musician whose family drifted away. Eddie, the singer haunted by choices in love. Arthur, the presenter who unravels the record’s history. And Eva, whose ambition to harness its power makes her both fascinating and terrifying. Their stories feel raw and authentic, and they make the mystery of the record even more compelling.
As the tags indicate, there is "No Sexual Content" in this game. Romance does exist, but it’s handled with sweetness and restraint, no explicit scenes, just intimacy that feels genuine. That makes the emotional beats land even harder.
Honestly, even if you’re not usually into visual novels, this one’s worth playing. It’s less of a “game” and more of an interactive story, but the writing is captivating, the choices feel personal, and the whole package, art, music, atmosphere, is polished to near perfection. If you enjoy character-driven stories, moody soundtracks, and reflective explorations of “what could have been,” Across the Grooves is a beautiful, melancholic trip you won’t forget.
What follows is less about flashy time travel and more about the quiet weight of choices. A conversation at a bar, a cigarette on a balcony, a missed train, each small decision ripples out into an entirely new present. That’s where the game shines: showing how fragile and malleable identity and memory can be.
The first thing that strikes you is the art. The hand-drawn, European comic-book style gives the whole story this intimate, lived-in quality. Cities, bars, and train stations feel real but tinged with magic. When Alice is “in” the music, the visuals burst into color and texture, almost overwhelming. The soundtrack is just as good, adaptive, atmospheric, and deeply tied to the storytelling. It’s not just background music, it shapes the emotion of each scene, carrying you from wistful to devastating with subtle shifts. Play with headphones if you can, the crackle of vinyl, ticking clocks, and distant chatter make the whole thing immersive.
The story takes you across Europe in search of answers, but it gradually becomes more about self-discovery than fixing the past. Gameplay is straightforward: no minigames or quick reflexes here, just choices that branch into different personalities and endings. And the choices actually matter. They don’t just alter dialogue, they change Alice’s demeanor, her relationships, and the entire story path. Replayability is huge because each run reveals new artwork, new characters, and fresh shades of joy or regret. It’s crazy how one small decision can take you to a completely different ending.
The writing is surprisingly mature, tackling themes like regret, longing, and the dangers of chasing “what ifs.” The record itself is a brilliant metaphor: each time Alice plays it, reality warps further from her memories, and something precious is lost. You meet others who’ve been touched by the record, Enzo, the old musician whose family drifted away. Eddie, the singer haunted by choices in love. Arthur, the presenter who unravels the record’s history. And Eva, whose ambition to harness its power makes her both fascinating and terrifying. Their stories feel raw and authentic, and they make the mystery of the record even more compelling.
As the tags indicate, there is "No Sexual Content" in this game. Romance does exist, but it’s handled with sweetness and restraint, no explicit scenes, just intimacy that feels genuine. That makes the emotional beats land even harder.
Honestly, even if you’re not usually into visual novels, this one’s worth playing. It’s less of a “game” and more of an interactive story, but the writing is captivating, the choices feel personal, and the whole package, art, music, atmosphere, is polished to near perfection. If you enjoy character-driven stories, moody soundtracks, and reflective explorations of “what could have been,” Across the Grooves is a beautiful, melancholic trip you won’t forget.