DJ Boy (Kaneko) Review | Computer & Video Games - Everygamegoing

C&VG


DJ Boy
By Kaneko
Sega Genesis

 
Published in Computer & Video Games #104

DJ Boy

Life as a DJ isn't all playing the latest hit records and talking a load of mindless garbage for a few hours a day, you know. Sometimes your girlie gets kidnapped by gangs of hoodlums from other radio stations.

Such is the case now, and if you don't get her back before your prime time slot on Radio KCHEEZ, you'll be in deep... er... cow dung. So you'd better get your Supa Skates on and roll off to her rescue.

The mission of mercy is split into a series of horizontally scrolling levels packed with baddies. You have a variety of punches at your disposal with which to bash them. Just make sure you get them before they get you. At the end of each level is a big guardian - defeat them all and you get your girl back. Fail, and you'll end up winding the gramophones for Radio Two...

Megadrive

DJ Boy (or DJ Kid as it's known in British arcade - why Sega changed the name for this Megadrive release is a complete mystery) has been eagerly awaited in this office for some weeks. And now we've got it, I can say with hand on heart that the wait has been most definitely worth it.

The main character is a nimble little chap who's certainly very flighty on his eight-wheeled transport. Which is just as well because if he wasn't he'd be immediately flattened by the hordes of bully-boys, army yobbos and other adversaries which stand between him and his woman.

It's a fairly difficult game, not that much easier than the coin-op in fact. Starting with only four energy units (which can be increased at the end-level shops if you collect enough cash along the way) and no continues - it's a pretty hard slog to get to the very end.

With its ever-alert baddies, weird end-of-level guardians (which include a multi-petticoated Carribean lady and a couple of exploding clowns!) and on-road hazards such as oil slicks, gaps in the path and traffic cones, DJ Boy is not a game you'll tire of easily.

Paul Rand