‘Lost Records: Bloom & Rage’ Is a ‘Yellowjackets’-Like Playable Novel — Minus the Cannibalism
“Remember 1995?” reads a package addressed to Bloom & Rage. It’s been 27 years since the protagonists of Lost Records: Bloom & Rage were last seen together in Velvet Cove, a fictional town in Keweenaw, Michigan. A time in which the group has tried to forget the events that transpired during an eventful summer. But somehow, somebody else still remembers.
Told throughout the past and present timelines, Lost Records presents a narrative-driven story split into two chapters, released on February 18 and April 15. As Swann, players navigate what seems to be a mundane summer of self-discovery alongside newfound friends: Nora, Kat, and Autumn. Some strange sightings in the neck of the woods, however, set a paranormal tone and a mystery to resolve that intertwines with each of the four main characters.
Developed by Don’t Nod, the studio behind the illustrious Life is Strange (2015), players explore the events of Velvet Cove by partaking in conversations, developing bonds with three other characters, and slowly shaping Swann’s personality during her last summer in town. While some of its mysteries falter and the tech holding everything together isn’t flawless, Lost and Records: Bloom & Rage is a heartfelt story about teenage spirit, punk rebellion, and how time and decisions made eventually catch up to everyone.
Tuned in
While Stranger Things might be the go-to modern reference for Eighties references and coming of age stories, it’s actually the preceding comic book Paper Girls (2015 to 2019) — which later got a short TV adaptation — that has more in common with Lost Records. Penned by Brian K. Vaughan (Saga, Y: The Last Man), Paper Girls introduces a group of teenagers who end up tangled in a time-travel war, jumping back (and forward) to different periods of history. Including, of course, periods where they meet their older selves, reckoning with the passage of time and lifting the lid on a plethora of repressed memories.
But Lost Records evades too close a parallelism to Paper Girls by also mixing in familiar elements from Showtime’s Yellowjackets, which transpires in 1996, focusing on a group of teenagers fighting for survival after a plane crash. The story jumps between the past and the present constantly, centering the latter around the grown-up selves of some of the survivors as they all receive a letter with an ominous, yet familiar symbol from their past.
Aesthetically and thematically, Lost Records resembles coming-of-age stories like Yellowjackets.
Don’t Nod
Lost Records might tread familiar territory (it’s set in 1995 and 2022 instead), but it manages to distinguish itself from the jump. The first chapter, which can take around eight hours, is in no rush to deliver big story beats or dive into the paranormal mystery in detail. Rather, it’s a slow burn. The entire chapter is about getting to know Swann and her friends, taking all the time in the world to bask in mundanity and learn about their struggles and aspirations.
Both chapters take advantage of the dual timeline structure, with the story jumping back and forth, relying on a familiar yet effective vehicle to retell the events of 1995 in chapter-like fragments. There are times when the decisions you take as Swann have a direct impact, with the present versions of the characters acknowledging the small actions and dialogue choices as they “happen” in the past, with Swann’s voice in the background reinforcing with narration.
Talking heads
Ever since Life is Strange‘s release ten years ago, there’s been no shortage of games with similarly heady themes that play out more through character interaction than traditional gameplay. Oxenfree (2016) and Dustborn (2024) are strong examples of video games that pushed the boundaries of how conversations can work in stories shaped by player agency, mimicking the imprecise rhythm of real-life dialogue.
Dialogue choices have real impact but also present themselves more organically than in most games.
Don’t Nod
While it’s been five years since the last game of this style by Don’t Nod — 2020’s Tell Me Why — the moment-to-moment decision making seen in Lost Records is as sharp as anything the developers’ have done. In Lost Records, Swann can interrupt conversations, look at objects of interest in the environment to gain new answer options, or not say anything at all by letting time-sensitive options run out. As such, the fleeting moments are more natural, and seemingly innocuous mistakes can linger.
During a specific instance, one of the characters confided a secret and made me promise not to share it. Someone in the group had an atypical health-related situation, which sounded curious enough to be passed as a rumor, but not necessarily raise an alarm. In a later sequence, the option to mention it out in the open became available during a conversation. I stayed true to the promise; a story event hours later, however, made me regret not being more vocal when I had the chance.
Conversations are heightened by the weight they have on building bonds with all three characters, which can even lead to a romance with any of them. Swann’s choices have ramifications for her relationship with her friends in both the past and the present, meaning that scenes can play out vastly differently. When a chapter finishes, the game offers a list of all possible permutations, showing which ones happened to you and the percentage of other people’s results. I was shocked to see so many different results born from both innocuous actions that I fumbled or missed entirely, as well as more impactful actions that I’m glad I missed or didn’t get to witness altogether.
The bond between four friends is both built and tested through the dual timeline framework.
Don’t Nod
While playing, the tech underneath is constantly at work, with characters picking up cues and reacting accordingly in real time based on the player’s choices. It’s hard to deny the ambition, and the results do largely pay off, but cracks do appear from time to time, which can make for some awkward conversations.
Issues with lip sync and the occasional dialogue choice that doesn’t gel together with the current conversations, reiterating something as brand new when characters have already acknowledged it, are a common occurrence. The biggest example is the sequences where multiple types of dialogue overlap with each other. Characters might be having a conversation during a throwback scene, as Swann is providing commentary via narration in the present, while picking up an object or looking at an object of interest in the environment gives you yet another voice line on top.
Stay awhile and listen
Another clear ambition from Don’t Nod, which is present in their story-driven work, is the painstaking attention to detail in every item you pick up and interact with. It’s hard to get me to grab notes from the environment in games, let alone read them in full (blame social media for ruining my attention span).
Players will spend a lot of time examining objects down to the tiniest detail.
Don’t Nod
In Lost Records, I was always excited to get a closer look at certain objects, from a playable Tamagotchi to the wrapper of a used condom, alongside some commentary from Swann or a character around her. Having the game acknowledge even these small things, like Swann’s mother noticing that she’s distracted and “always fiddling with stuff” during a phone call, just adds to the overall care put into the experience.
Lost Records goes a step further by giving Swann a camcorder as both a personal quirk and a central tool to zoom in, be present, and take in the sights. Aside from a few handful of simple tasks, objectives usually involve recording specific scenes or groups of sightings with the camera, which is controlled in a first-person fashion. The recordings are saved locally, and the player can access and edit the clips at any time from a dedicated menu.
There are also optional recording ideas, such as collecting graffiti or finding unique birds in the environment, which replace the often tedious collectible-hunting by providing a thematic purpose. As expected, the game is aware of this possibility — during an early sequence, Swann wanted to get ice cream from a van as they were about to close. I spent so much time recording the area that they closed shop before she could order one.
Camcorder videos are a main gameplay mechanic and can be edited individually.
Don’t Nod
There’s also the novelty of being the kid with the camcorder who can actually snap memories to watch later. The special value of this isn’t taken for granted by other characters, who show excitement over seeing themselves in a recording on a TV, and later on suggest the idea of doing a music video for Bloom & Rage, a punk band that’s progressively ushered in during the first story chapter.
The camcorder is a central storytelling piece, as it ties the sense of place together with grace. Both timelines in Lost Records are rooted in familiar, everyday themes. The present acknowledges the COVID-19 pandemic multiple times, and does so bluntly. The first object you can interact with is a face mask, and the pandemic is constantly brought up in conversation. (One of the characters even says, “As soon as the panini hit,” employing internet slang.)
Social media is another topic of interest, of course, with reflections on how “no one’s life is as perfect as they make it look.” Life is Strange 2 (2018) treaded similar ground, taking cues from the state of the U.S. in 2016 and the rooted racism of the Trump era as the two Latino protagonists flee their home to Mexico in the game.
The nostalgia for the past days of summer weighs heavily on the story, its characters yearning for a simpler time.
Don’t Nod
Whenever the future selves of the Lost Records characters remember the past, there’s a clear joy in being unreachable, expressing how they didn’t know “how good we had it back then,” as teenagers guarded from adult responsibilities. But it’s easy to commiserate with the cast’s spirit, especially as time marches on and the characters themselves begin to grapple with the reality that summer eventually ends, and fate will likely force them to part ways with each other.
And yet, they make the most of it. There’s a clear celebration and love for music, as well as a punk attitude that permeates everything — zines, stickers, flyers, graffiti, dyed hair and piercings, the exploration of queer love in a clearly conservative community, playing instruments without that much practice, and some vandalism for good measure.
Femininomenon
The paranormal mystery does intersect with all of this, but rarely manages to pierce through in a meaningful way. Mentioning it now, near the end of the review, mirrors the experience of seeing the mystery unravel in Lost Records by following the original episodic release. As mentioned, the first chapter is a slow burn, and this also applies to the mystery, with only a few glimpses of possible supernatural elements. The second half leans more into it, but without ever taking the time to answer any question, nor try to set some ground rules about what it means, or what purpose it serves in the story you’re witnessing.
The supernatural mystery aspects take a backseat to the character work.
Don’t Nod
The Life is Strange series has always existed in a thin line between the climate of the settings they’re influenced by and the supernatural. The characters’ abilities are important to the stories, but are more of a vehicle than a central narrative piece. A similar philosophy fuels Lost Records. The mystery did grab me, and I respect the decision not to waste time going through the slog of lore exposition.
I saw strange things in and out of Velvet Cove’s woods, and I still can’t picture exactly what’s behind them. And that’s okay. Like most of the games before it, the heart of Lost Records lies in its four central characters and the way they navigate the world.
Rather than a supernatural force to contend with, there are other external, less fictitious opponents at play. The looming threat of the passage of time and what they make with it that sets its claws on them. The gasping-for-air desperation to reject mundanity and let out frustrations by sneaking out to smoke a joint or playing instruments in a dusty garage, dreaming about going on road trips together to escape from it all. And a living representation of abuse and patriarchy in the form of a teenage bully who’s dating one of the characters’ older sister.
Lost Records is a story about four girls who become strong women through their shared experiences.
Don’t Nod
Lost and Records: Bloom & Rage is a coming-of-age story that takes the time to reckon with characters’ actions in the past from a place of reflection, giving them the opportunity to amend past mistakes and try to piece together broken bonds lost to time. It’s also a valuable collective of perspectives about what women, past and present, endure from society every day of their lives. It’s the kind of story that not many video games commit to, let alone do proper justice. Despite its bigger mysteries being sidelined as a result, it was a joy to see all four characters banding together to get back at those who wronged them.
As the guiding hand in their stories, whenever I was given the option to talk and respond, I followed a clear principle: let them rage.
Lost Records: Bloom & Rage is out now for PlayStation 5, Xbox Series X|S, and PC.