Wax Heads puts you behind the counter of a vinyl record store. Customers come in and describe the album they're looking for in vague or surreal ways: they remember the cover's color, a feeling, or a personal anecdote. Your task is to interpret those clues and find the right record among the shelves. The game taps into that intimate relationship we all have with music, from teenage rebellion to adult nostalgia, all with a sharp, observational tone that turns each interaction into a small portrait.
A search engine disguised as a record store 🎧
Technically, Wax Heads works like a sophisticated logical filtering system. Each customer offers a series of imprecise attributes (genre, year, cover color, emotional texture) that the player must cross-reference with a database of fictional albums. The puzzle design isn't based on complex mechanics, but on observation and deduction. The hand-drawn art, with a fanzine style, reinforces the authenticity: each cover and each character has a visual texture that seems to come straight out of a sketchbook. The interface avoids the digital, opting for a cozy atmosphere that invites unhurried exploration.
The customer is always right, even if they speak in riddles 🤔
The charm of Wax Heads is that customers describe records as if they were drunk or under the influence of an emotional hangover. One asks you for something rough with a cow, another looks for that album that sounds like rain on a dirty window. And you, as the employee, nod seriously while thinking: this guy wants a black metal album with a farm cover. The humor comes from that gap between what they say and what they're really looking for. In the end, you realize we're all that customer, and that the clerk at your local record store deserves a monument.