There's a certain kind of level I'd consider untouchable, where any attempt to directly bounce off of it is likely doomed. Contrary to a level like Nine Circles or Windy Landscape, which could be used as templates (of sorts) to hopefully recapture the essence of an original work, some levels aren't really definable in structure. Despite frequent efforts, you can't really recapture the magic of a level like Death Moon, Lonely Travel, or High Life while going about things in the same way. I suppose the existence of Future Funk and Reanimation (for example) might prove the validity of edge cases, but I don't think they really feel the same like two Nine Circles levels might.

All of this is to say that High Life is one of a kind, and if there's a reason it has earned its status as a classic I wouldn't say it has anything to do with length or visual fidelity. Instead, each part of High Life feels indescribably self-confident, like it somehow knew that even the many parts with only one main effect or detail to offer wouldn't be seen as iconic rather than obsolete as time passed. Migueword was far from a new creator by the time High Life came out, but it has that aura of ignoring all concern of what more could be done to fill things out. I love when 1.9 levels make the most of their effects and designs, which usually makes for a much more polished and timeless product, but I've always admired High Life for keeping things simple just because that was the vision. I'm sure that High Life was considered very impressively constructed at the time, but its legacy has proved to be as an inspiration, to not worry about cramming a level full of things as if the action had its own inherent value.

To be clear I'm not the biggest High Life enjoyer or anything, I just think it's a really cool level to think about as it ages