Rating Curve

A lot of Geometry Dash objects carry the unfortunate burden of historical context. Due to the lack of established names, it can be hard for me to bring up examples with text alone, but I think you know what I mean: the 1.0 objects, the 1.6 objects, the 1.8 objects, the 1.9 objects, the pixel blocks, etc. Really, the fact that I'm even referring to them based on the update they released in shows just how steeped they are in the styles of their respective updates. A scant few objects, such as the flat-colored blocks of 1.7, are free of this curse thanks to their sheer versatility, but in general, a lot of objects come with an implicit message that the creator, whether they intended to or not, is using them to signify a certain aesthetic, exemplified most clearly by the widespread labelling of any level using the 1.0 blocks as "1.0-styled", blatantly ignoring any other facets of the level, even those which would reveal the classification as blatantly wrong. All of this is why 9lives felt like such a breath of fresh air to me.

As I list out what makes this level so great, I'd like to argue a bit against the reviews which characterize this level as "nostalgic". To me, 9lives is precisely the opposite: the nostalgia of old objects is subverted as they become parts of larger patterns, contributing their superficial appearance and nothing else. Blocks from all updates share space equally as a showcase of everything Geometry Dash has to offer, without any additional historicizing. Here, 1.3 metal blocks are wallpapers, pixel blocks are ripped from their respective tilesets to become individual paintings, 1.0 blocks are used for their darkening quality alone, and the aforementioned flat-colored blocks of 1.7 are utilized as they are in many other levels—to create "new" assets—except their opacity is turned down. This normally creates an undesired effect, but here, it instead reveals their true nature, which many others would rather seek to hide. All of this makes 9lives, in my opinion, a highly futuristic work, akin to that of seefourset's city. It couldn't have been made in any update other than 2.2, where it stands out among the litany of creators vainly attempting to look back and reclaim a lost past (a cohort that, admittedly, also includes me) as a delightfully subversive work.

A great demonstration of both the sheer abstractive power of Geometry Dash objects, even the post-2.0 ones, and of Viot's incredible ability to utilize that abstraction to make an alien (no pun intended) environment with objects we should all be familiar with. The color work is a crucial part of why this level works at all, I feel.

Spectacular, dynamic, geometric. The fact that more people aren't aware of this is a tragedy of the highest order.

This level has two endings.

In the first, you traverse through a harsh, foggy jungle of machinery, which fans of The Place, the more popular version of this level, are intimately familiar with. The exact nature of the white fog enveloping the player and the landscape surrounding them is unclear: it is definitely related to the unrelenting industry, but we also see chimneys billowing black smoke, which runs contrary to the theory that it's just a simple byproduct of the incessant contraptions littering the place. You can imagine the view that would open up to you if the fog wasn't there: endless fields of fans, drills, pipes and clockwork; however, imagination won't help you survive in the present environment, where you have to carefully watch your step, lest you unwittingly step between two moving pieces of metal. Scaffolding bridges the gaps between constructions, its purpose unclear, as the place appears completely uninhabited aside from a few birds and plants that have somehow made their home in this bleak environment. As you make your way through the artificial landscape, avoiding all the machines that seemingly work autonomously with no regard for what's in their way, the fog around you gets thicker and thicker, the ruckus of motors whirring gets louder and louder, and large whirlpools of black smoke launch you up, until finally, you dive headfirst into the white nothingness, and the noise suddenly cuts out. It's unclear what exactly happened to you, but for better or worse, you are finally free.

The coin route for this level begins with you activating a single trigger orb, which, through a few extra platforms, leads to an entirely separate path that only slightly intersects with the main route. While some coin routes can make you feel like you're breaking out of the intended path, this one takes it to a whole new level by giving off the effect that not even the creator meant for you to be there. You see the bare tops of the structures that you previously jumped across, and at one point, all you can make out is a blurry mess of white and black fog intended for the main route, as if you were genuinely out of bounds. It's actually a fully intended way, and by the end of it, after making your way through bits of black smoke that slow down your vertical movement, and as the fog encroaches and threatens to envelop everything once again, you reach a plateau, hit an "Emergency Shutoff" button, and the noise suddenly cuts out. This time, you are actually free.

Why did I describe these two paths in such detail? Well, this level was made in 2.1, and I find it remarkable how Insidee managed to completely recontextualize the song used in the level without any extra help. Depending on which route you take, the song abruptly cutting out can symbolize either a desperate plunge into the unknown, or the gratifying sound of silence, knowing that despite all odds, you have surmounted The Place. The Place pulls off multiple endings better than any other level I've seen, which is why I love it so much. You effectively get two levels for the price of one!

The coin rute seems like if you just broke the level lol

- A random comment I found on a YouTube showcase

My best level! And luckily, other people seem to agree with me on this one. I absolutely love how this came out, and it solidified the idea in my mind that any level I make should have a "message" propelling it. This message can change while you're building the level, like it did with beachcombing, and that's perfectly fine. For this level in particular, I'd like to point out that the default white outlines "represent" white sand. Alongside all the junk hidden beneath the surface and sticking out of it at parts, this is not a pristine yellow coastline for tourists to sunbathe on, like you'd see in Calypso Blitz. It's messy, dirty, even hazardous. Alongside that, the "sun" is a gear object—I honestly can't even explain why this is so great, but I think anyone who plays the level can agree that it's way better than a basic glowing orb. I like to think that the sun is somehow distorting your perceptions, eventually leading to the ship part at the very end, where the objects you saw buried in the sand earlier now float placidly over the water. There's also a subtle shift in perspective at the ship portal: throughout the whole level, the way the outlines are placed suggests that the "camera" is located over the water, looking at the player walking parallel to the coastline; however, right at the ship portal, the player flies off a cliff, as if they had been walking towards the sea the whole time. I love this level, and I'm glad others love it as well.

Also, notice how I didn't turn off the glow on the outlines? That's because the glow looks better. Don't believe the mainstream media!

An unabashed 1.9 nostalgia fest, featuring many designs common to that time, as well as a copious amount of references to various media. While I appreciate that the "art" parts are actually fun to play (well, the whole level is quite fun), I have to give a special shoutout to the glowy parts at the very beginning and middle parts of the level. This is the best 1.9 style ever! Why do the 1.9 GDPS folks always try to emulate modern aesthetics using 1.9's limitations, rather than making levels that actually feel like they were made in 1.9? I like 1.9! Make more 1.9!