What do you mean, my "Rock Band" band isn't real?

Via the McSweeney's Open Letter format

Dear Harmonix,

It has come to my attention, thanks to the intervention of friends and coworkers, that the dream you sell packaged as "Rock Band" is nothing but a bunch of deceiving and empty hype.

How dare you. How dare you deceitfully lead thousands on with your seemingly-realistic, strangely accessible world of rock fame. Time to live out my rock 'n' roll fantasy, eh? What you failed to explicitly mention is that it would still only ever be a fantasy, no matter how many times I score 100% or how well I hone my musical skills.

I am sure I'm not the only one out there who was mislead by a very deceptively-detailed pre-programed story line. So I represent all the silenced voices and shut-down egos when I ask the question: what do you mean when you say it isn't real!?

What is it about the option in the main menu to choose to go on tour that would not lead one to think they were touring remotely on their way to fame? What is it about displaying bumper stickers with my band name affixed to stop signs and providing encouraging helpful hints in wait screens that should lead me NOT to think I'm gaining real-life recognition?

You should know I agonized for hours over the best name for my band. I needed a title that would capture the hearts and interest of my future groupies, meanwhile looking good written in 90s-rock font on posters under my moodily-darkened silhouette. "Lady Overdose and the Infinite Zeppelin" was both edgy and engaging (and had to be abbreviated). Had that band ever actually debuted, success would have been inevitable.

I was one of the devoted many who practiced until my fingers went numb, tackling chords, note sequences, and solos all in the pursuit of promised rock-celebrity status. I had the ability to increase my popularity and gain more money by doing sets of two or more songs. I don't even want to think about how long I spent mastering the cursed orange key in an attempt to move from level medium to level hard to please more of those ever-elusive, ever-desirable fans. Yes, I took it personally when the crowd booed at me because I couldn't effectively flail my fingers with enough speed or master the complex rhythm of the expert level. But those tears of failure never would have been shed had I known it was merely a pre-recorded response.

Quite frankly, my feelings are hurt. If I'd known no one was watching, I'd never have spent so much time finding the right torso and leg accessories to perfectly feature my animated avatar's hot and virtually unachievable frame. I now live with the isolating knowledge that the multiple times I completely rocked the long and complex (but utterly satisfying) guitar solo in "Lazy Eye," my performance did not move thousands. It fell to deaf ears. When you told me it was an awesome or perfect solo and I had gained 560 new fans, all I was really gaining was a false sense of confidence and pride.

OK, sure. There were some signs that through counseling I am now learning I might have turned a blind eye to. It was crazy how my band mates were constantly changing. Fans still cheered me on even when a couple missed notes startlingly cut a void of silence into the track. No one was surprised or commented when I sought variety and suddenly switched from being an expert lead vocal to a beginning drummer. It seemed mildly infuriating that even with all my earned wealth as a musical entertainer, I could only ever put those funds toward specific outfits and an outrageous variety of new instruments. Not to mention how easy and free a change of paint on those instruments were.

You know, I was dismayed when my band went on tour to Europe and I had to stay behind playing remotely. But it was a sacrifice I was willing to make as long as I was still dependent on my day job. It seems as if my aspirations to make it big and quit my current employment will never be realized. My life suddenly seems even more bleak than it had before - and for this, I blame you.

Sirs and madams at Harmonix, your company is in the business of selling false hope. I hope one day someone lets you down in some severe manner so you finally understand the miserable nag of failure and emptiness of lost dreams.

Yours sincerely,
Andrle Pence
Lead Guitarist, Bassist, Drummer, and Singer
Lady Overdose and the Infinite Zeppelin