Taiko no Tatsujin: Drum Session! is a bright and cheery arcade drumming classic digitally packaged without the physical equipment normally used to play it, conceding a DualShock 4 as the solitary drum to bang across dozens of energetic pop anthems. It's a fun, albeit plain, rhythm game that you can imagine being even more fun with the hilarious drum controller that isn't included or available in North America.
Taiko no Tatsujin is a rhythm game progenitor with sporadic appearances on this side of the planet. Forged in the Japanese arcade scene, the first console North American appearance, Taiko: Drum Master, came to the PlayStation 2 bundled with a novelty drum controller. This was significantly before Guitar Hero encouraged large rhythm game peripherals but slightly after Donkey Konga made a splash on GameCube. With a combination of licensed pop songs, anime staples, and original tunes, Taiko: Drum Master found a niche following on PS2.
Other than a cameo in Yakuza 5’s arcade, Taiko no Tatsujin has been absent from this side of the planet since 2004. That changes this month, as Bandai Namco releases Taiko no Tatsujin: Drum ‘n’ Fun! for Switch and Taiko no Tatsujin: Drum Session! for PlayStation 4. The Switch version uses the JoyCons as faux drumsticks while the PlayStation 4 uses buttons on the DualShock 4. Neither of these options are ideal but only one robs Taiko no Tatsujin of its natural charm.
Drum Session’s take on rhythm action conforms to its origins; it’s a no-frills assault of notes and beats delivered in a straight line. Red beats demand the player bang the drum (two face buttons or two d-pad buttons) while blue notes signal to bash the rim of the drum (interpreted as the other two face buttons or d-pad buttons). Large-sized notes suggest bashing both of the corresponding color’s buttons. Yellow notes represent one of three instances where the player is encouraged to go crazy and mash as many buttons as possible.
Performance is measured on the accuracy of your button presses. Hitting beats in time builds a meter that rates your performance on a particular song, and consecutive in-time beats builds a combo that can have a dramatic effect on your overall score. In Drum Session’s options menu is a tool to increase or decrease the inherent lag of your television, but it’s weirdly incomplete. It’s just a slider that you have to dial forward or backward without an immediate way to test your television. I found that by hitting the button right as the beat eclipsed the circle was best, on default, for my particular television.
Taiko Mode is Drum Session’s main event. 74 songs are spread across licensed anime, pop originals, music from some of Namco’s other games, and a handful of vocaloid tracks. Included in game music are a selections from Tekken 7 and Tales of Bersaria, along with a Ridge Racer Type 4 song (Eat ‘Em Up) that I couldn’t remember hearing in Ridge Racer Type 4. If you’d like to delightfully confuse children, Frozen’s “Let it Go” and “Try Everything” from Zootopia are available with Japanese-language vocals. Selections from Dragon Ball Super, “Genkai Toppa X Survivor,” and Neon Genesis Evangelion, “A Cruel Angel’s Thesis” are also available. I appreciated the appearance of two Hatsune Miku songs, although Drum Session’s rhythm arrangement can’t match Hatsune Miku’s own games.
Four levels span the range of Taiko Mode’s difficulty. It’s here where Drum Session’s relative simplicity comes into focus. The straight-line delivery isn’t as complex or agile as something like Hatsune Miku: Project DIVA Future Tone or the Persona dancing games, but the raw power and speed behind the note delivery is terrifying on the extreme difficulty setting. I played Drum Session on easy because I am (1) old and (2) have no identifiable rhythm, but I can see why Taiko no Tatsujin’s audience—specifically those who have been waiting fourteen years for another Taiko no Tatsujin game—may better appreciate the range of its challenge.
A lure persists with Drum Session’s customization options. A 3×3 bingo card is filled with coins granted after impressive performances. The higher the difficulty, the more coins that are potentially available. Completing a bingo awards the player a Don coin. Don coins can be spent on in-game loot boxes in which you’ll get a neat online greeting or way to customize the adorably cute drum avatar. You could also get nothing because it’s a loot box in a Taiko no Tatsujin, for some reason. This seems unreasonable.
Further evidence of internal cynicism is available when opening Drum Session’s options for downloadable content. Eight-one (81), that I counted, new songs are available for $1.49 each. There are 71 in the base game. The base game is $50. Drum Session is a niche product aimed at a small, hungry audience. It’s possible this is the price Namco had to justify to localize the product in the west, but it feels exploitative and excessive! Especially without the drum controller! $50 is a lot of money for a very basic, albeit beloved, rhythm game.
Two player versus is available on the same screen. Online play, available as a performance against ghosts of other players, is also available. I was able to “play” against others online easy enough, and couch-competitive sessions with my wife were fine until she asked if she had to keep playing. In either case what’s here is perfectly serviceable. Playing against ghost data, as opposed to a live match, makes a ton of sense when comparing Drum Session’s aggressive timing demands against the reality of online infrastructure.
It is insane that the drum controller is not available stateside. There are currently import sellers at Amazon that sell Taiko no Tatsujin controller specifically made to play this game for $70 to $100. The drum controller isn’t required, but it’s the equivalent of playing Virtua Cop without a light gun or Donkey Kong Jungle Beat without the bongos. Taiko no Tatsujin is a treasured game where you beat a goofy drum in sync with on-screen action. It’s dispiriting and distressing that it isn’t part of the base Drum Session release in North America.
Taiko no Tatsujin’s return to the western hemisphere should have been cause for celebration. Instead it’s a capable but antiquated rhythm game that feels lost and out of place without its natural hardware.
