The intro starts. Not the actual song. A MIDI approximation. The drums are a Casio keyboard having a seizure. The bass is a rubber band stretched over a shoebox. But then— bom bom bom —the low E string hits.
And so you search. Not Spotify. Not YouTube. You search
Your fingers hit the keyboard differently. Not to match the game’s arbitrary colors, but to simulate . You hit "A" for the open E, "S" for the A string, "D" for the D. You are air-guitaring with a membrane keyboard. And for three glorious seconds, you nail the transition from the verse to the pre-chorus.
You reload the page. You try again.
The cursor is an hourglass. It has been an hourglass for eleven seconds, which in the currency of 2006 Internet time feels like a geologic epoch.
The screen goes black for a terrifying heartbeat. Then, a flash of electric blue. The UI renders: a crudely drawn fretboard, vertical lines representing strings, numbers floating down like toxic snow. It is . A bootleg, browser-based ancestor of Guitar Hero , rendered in stolen code and pure chutzpah.
The riff is a stampede. You are a mouse. The notes fall faster than your synapses can fire. You watch the score plummet to zero. The game flashes a sarcastic "FAIL" in pixelated red.
The Eternal Loading Bar: Chasing the Riff through a Flash Pane