A Cult Phenomenon That United 90s Club Culture, Mega-Minimalism, and Digital Entertainment
The year was 1995. The No. 1 single in the UK was “Think Twice” by Celine Dion, and Batman Forever was the highest-grossing film in the U.S. Manchester United won their third Premier League title, and the world buzzed with outrage over the O.J. Simpson trial verdict.
At this time, the gaming scene was generally viewed as something meant exclusively for socially immature people, feeling safe within the confines of their own four walls and seeking to minimize social interaction. That world was still far from the billion-dollar industries of Fortnite, Minecraft, and Roblox. But this state of affairs didn’t last long.
Sony PlayStation, released in November 1994 in Japan, and in September 1995 in the U.S. and Europe, was accompanied by a host of interesting games, none of which were as groundbreaking as Wipeout.
Introduction to the Phenomenon
I vividly remember the day I wandered into a small electronics shop to pass the time. It was winter, and the long nights were lit only by the orange glow of streetlights and the occasional flash of passing car headlights. Celine Dion was endlessly looping on the radio. Somewhere deep inside the store, contrasting with the dull, dirty-white fluorescent lighting, shone a beacon of extra-minimalism. The box was adorned with bold, heavy lettering and alluring alien graphics reminiscent of Predator from 1987. I had never seen anything more spectacular in my 10 years on Earth at the time. It may seem tacky today, but it was my first introduction to The Designers Republic—and it was magnificent.
The Designers Republic
Founded in Sheffield, UK, The Designers Republic was opened by Ian Anderson and Nick Phillips in 1986. It all started with designing flyers for the band Person to Person. Later, Anderson admitted that he had no experience other than creating posters for one of the clubs he managed in Sheffield. The band liked his work, and the studio got its first serious gig. “We were creating for ourselves, doing what we liked,” explains Anderson. “Bright colors, strong contrasts, unconventional symbols, framing. And it turned out that not only we liked it, but others did too.”
Even in the late 80s, their playful, humorous style made an impact. A turning point came when Cut magazine published a review not of the Kiss record, but of its cover! The article focused on every detail of the sleeve.
They continued to create amazing vinyl covers, occasionally producing masterpieces like the cult cover for the 1987 song Don’t Get Mad… Get Even! by English rockers Age of Chance, which was later featured in Q magazine’s 2001 list of the “100 Best Record Covers of All Time.”
Wipeout 2097
Not many people owned a PlayStation when it first launched—it was too expensive at the time, and many were still skeptical about its success. Sega and Nintendo had been competing since the early 90s and were already household names. How on earth could Sony compete with these two? Surely, they had a Herculean task ahead of them.
It was clear that Sony had a much stronger grasp of youth culture than its competitors. If you visited any major nightclub in London, you’d undoubtedly find special PlayStation lounge areas. Wipeout, and later Wipeout 2097, with its tDR-designed aesthetics and incredible custom electronic soundtrack featuring The Chemical Brothers, Underworld, The Future Sound of London, and The Prodigy, became the pinnacle of 90s creative achievements, all wrapped up in one sleek interactive package.
By 1997, there were 52 clubs in the UK alone with dedicated PlayStation rooms. Other Sony regional offices soon followed, and the company began sponsoring extreme sports events and music festivals around the world, including Big Love, Tribal Gathering, and later Lollapalooza.
Wipeout 3
Three years passed after the release of Wipeout 2097 before the third installment of Wipeout came out. It was something of a swan song for the PlayStation, as the PlayStation 2 was already on the horizon, ready to meet the demands of the next generation. For the Wipeout 3 cover, tDR opted for a more muted design, still reflecting their signature style, but undoubtedly in a more refined format.
While exaggerated minimalism was appropriate in the past, here it evolved into a more classic minimalism—matured, grown, and separated from the flamboyant but glorious style of Wipeout and Wipeout 2097:
- The intro was more balanced, restrained, and measured in its presentation.
- After loading, you’re greeted by traditional brief flashes of bold consumerist aesthetics typical of tDR.
- These are followed by the creation or destruction, depending on your point of view, as the ship-building process plays in reverse, accompanied by music that morphs from chaotic ambient noise into a mature soundtrack as you approach your goal.
Much of tDR’s work perfectly reflects the 90s and still looks incredible even 25 years after Wipeout launched. It’s the ideal combination of graphic design, electronic music, and gaming atmosphere. If you remember those times, now might be the perfect moment to launch your copy of Wipeout 2097 in tribute to the good old 90s.