Pick a winner

Set in a diverse and friendly neighborhood somewhere in the U.K. — for me, it felt like the suburbs of London — you help run Repeater Records, a small, vinyl-packed store run by Morgan Macintyre, a former musician who left the industry after her band, Becoming Violet, split up following the solo success of her sister, Willow. This story serves as the backbone of the entire escapade, but never takes over; after all, there are more important things, and people, to deal with.

The core element of Wax Heads is a matching game: finding the right record for each customer from around the store. At the start, it’s straightforward: get the new album for X, or the cheapest vinyl for Y. Within minutes, you’re eased into a clever conversational loop mechanic that keeps you firmly on your toes.

Before you know it, you’re exploring discs, scrutinizing cover art, translating misheard requests, scanning people’s clothing, or cross-referencing reviews. And then, most importantly, you sometimes just go with your heart — after all, do you give the customer what they want, or what they need? You have all the time in the world to figure it out, and that’s where Wax Heads truly shines.

For example, early on, someone mourning their husband wants to rediscover a beloved record. You naturally overthink, because this guy’s a widower and you don’t want to let him down. Still, you don’t stress about getting the right record; you can take your time, and there’s absolutely no clock watching, which is ideal when there’s a remarkably compelling Diggy Doggo arcade machine in the corner.

With the right thinking, these puzzles are relatively straightforward, to the point that I nailed the first five or six with no problems. That doesn’t make it feel any less rewarding, because there’s a logic to all of them, which changes every time. Wax Heads celebrates patience and, in a meaningful way, a duty of care for the customer, who just wants something nice to listen to.

A very real world

One of Wax Heads’ biggest draws is its delightful art style. Its frame-to-frame, expressive comic approach captures people’s essence without turning them into a caricature, more than making up for its lack of voice acting.

Your fellow employees are exactly the types of people you can see running a record store, like a dance-crazed nerd, a local campaigner who talks like a RuPaul’s Drag Race contestant (big fan), and an anxious, gentle giant trying to break onto the local music scene. Characters quickly emerge beyond the employees, as customers’ lives develop at a believable pace, especially as they return to the store.

Most importantly, Wax Heads’ selection of bands feels incredibly well-researched and plausible, without descending into parody, and it doesn’t belittle any specific taste in music — low-hanging fruit that’s always easy to grab. Instead, it exposes how people can be dismissive or stuck in their ways, and we’ve all been there.

It says a lot when you’re taking a break from Wax Heads and find yourself wondering about a band from the game as if they’re real, to the point you stop yourself from googling them. Case in point: Jarhead, a death metal band with a laugh-out-loud gruesome backstory (especially when two sequential tracks on one of their albums are “Police Mistake” and “Eat the Evidence”. I’d take the day off after writing that).

You find yourself browsing your phone for the latest newsletter updates or social media posts to inform your decision about whether a certain song by a specific band will help the mood. It doesn’t make any difference whatsoever, and that’s a testament to the worldbuilding in Wax Heads, because you can’t quite shake the feeling that you could let your audiophile customers down.

Scratches on the vinyl

Wax Heads isn’t perfect, but in the grand scheme of things, its issues are small and easily fixable. Controls can be imprecise, especially in minigames like poster design; there’s an auto-skip function for dialogue, but it’s just too fast, even at its slowest speed.

In conversations, asking people to repeat themselves replays the full conversation, which is understandable from an accessibility perspective, but breaks immersion when all you want are the clues. I can also spot a typo from 100 paces (unless it’s my own work, ironically — the writer’s curse), and Wax Heads could’ve done with another pass on proofreading.

There’s also a niche half-criticism. Wax Heads has the potential to be timeless, and for the entire first act, you could plausibly set it any time in the last 20 years, if you don’t stare at the release dates too closely. Early in the second act, though, AI is mentioned, which undermined some of the nostalgic vibes I was getting. The story itself doesn’t suffer, but it did manage to break the immersion a little.

A sleeper hit

If you liked Mixtape, you’ll love Wax Heads. If you hated Mixtape, there’s every chance you’ll love Wax Heads. The fact that Wax Heads’ OST sticks in my head more than the world-famous tunes of Mixtape is very telling about how much the game sinks its claws into you.

Wax Heads is the perfect escape and a brief antidote to the world’s overwhelming negative noise — a reminder of the good in people, the things we all have in common, and the unrivaled feeling of connecting to great music.