There was nothing quite like flipping through a game magazine in the 1990s. Long before the internet gave us instant trailers, patch notes, walkthroughs, and daily news, gaming magazines were the sacred texts of our hobby. They didn’t just report on games, they built anticipation, sparked debates, created communities, and captured the heartbeat of a rapidly evolving medium. Game magazines that defined the ’90s were more than publications, they were portals into pixelated worlds, delivered monthly to our mailboxes and newsstands.
The Golden Era of Print Gaming Media
The ‘90s were packed with gaming milestones: the console wars, the rise of 3D gaming, the birth of legendary franchises. But part of what made those years feel so alive was how magazines framed every development with flair, passion, and sometimes unapologetic bias. Game magazines that defined the ’90s didn’t just inform, they entertained and provoked.
Every month felt like a celebration. I’d tear open an issue to find glossy screenshots of titles I hadn’t even heard of yet. There was the thrill of spotting a new Mario game, learning cheat codes, or just poring over pixelated previews that hinted at future classics. These magazines made you feel like you were in on a secret before the rest of the world caught on.
Nintendo Power: The Beacon for Nintendo Fans
For Nintendo fans, Nintendo Power was the Holy Grail. It wasn’t just a magazine; it was the official mouthpiece of the empire. Starting in the late ‘80s and dominating through the ‘90s, Nintendo Power delivered comprehensive coverage of every NES, SNES, and later N64 release with deep strategy guides, colorful maps, and character profiles.
What made Nintendo Power so iconic was the way it turned every Nintendo title into an epic. Whether it was a multi-page spread of The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past or a behind-the-scenes look at Donkey Kong Country, the magazine treated games like mythology. It built a universe of excitement and immersion that made you feel like part of something bigger than yourself.
Game magazines that defined the ’90s often reflected their console allegiances, but Nintendo Power embraced its role as a first-party champion. Still, it never felt hollow. The content had weight, the visuals popped off the page, and the layout had a rhythm that made every issue feel like an event.
Electronic Gaming Monthly: The All-Around Titan
Electronic Gaming Monthly (EGM) had a little something for everyone. It wasn’t tied to any one platform, which gave it room to cover everything from Sega Genesis to PlayStation. If Nintendo Power was for die-hard Nintendo fans, EGM was the magazine for those of us who loved gaming in every form.
The thing I loved most about EGM was its review system. Multiple editors would weigh in on the same game, each giving their own score. That dynamic made it feel like a roundtable of gamers talking honestly, not just one guy calling all the shots. You got different perspectives, and that added layers to the discussion. It taught me to think critically about games before I even understood what that meant.
Game magazines that defined the ’90s had to strike a balance between hype and honesty, and EGM nailed it. Their April Fool’s jokes (like the infamous Street Fighter II Sheng Long hoax) became legendary, and their in-depth features carried real journalistic weight. EGM felt less like a corporate product and more like a genuine fan-made celebration.
GamePro: The Explosive, Accessible Voice
GamePro came in with its own unmistakable vibe. Everything about the magazine was louder, bolder, and brighter than its peers. From the exaggerated cartoon faces next to each reviewer’s score to the color-coded pages, GamePro felt like a Saturday morning cartoon had come to life in magazine form.
Each review had a breakdown, graphics, sound, control, fun factor, with scores that helped even casual readers get a quick sense of what to expect. And that accessibility was key. You didn’t need to be a hardcore gamer to enjoy GamePro. It spoke to every kind of player, and it made sure everyone felt welcome in the conversation.
Game magazines that defined the ’90s didn’t all share the same tone, and GamePro carved out a distinct lane by focusing on excitement and attitude. It had flair, but it also had substance. Their feature pieces often highlighted trends, emerging genres, and developer spotlights that gave you a deeper appreciation for the games behind the cover art.
Next Generation: Ahead of Its Time
In a decade dominated by console mascots and pixel art, Next Generation stood out as a sleek, minimalist alternative. It spoke to a more mature audience, using sharp design and deep-dive articles that focused on industry trends, hardware evolution, and developer interviews. If other magazines were the playground, Next Generation was the lecture hall, and I mean that in the best way.
The writing had an edge of sophistication. You could sense the editorial team wasn’t just fans of games, they were thinkers. They wanted to elevate the discourse around gaming, long before the mainstream took video games seriously. They predicted where the industry was heading, often highlighting innovations before they became household standards.
What impressed me most was how Next Generation challenged readers. It made me think differently about the medium, about the business behind the scenes, and about how much strategy and vision went into every game on the shelf. It’s no exaggeration to say this magazine shaped how I approached gaming into adulthood.
Game magazines that defined the ’90s weren’t always about cheat codes and walkthroughs. Some, like Next Generation, offered perspective. They broadened the conversation, treating gaming like the complex, evolving art form it was becoming.
Tips & Tricks: The Code Master’s Handbook
If you ever found yourself stuck on a level, trying to unlock secret characters, or desperately hoping to find a debug mode, Tips & Tricks was a lifesaver. It wasn’t about previews or reviews. This magazine was all about giving players tools, cheat codes, secret paths, unlockables, and hidden features that most other mags didn’t dedicate space to.
This was the kind of magazine you kept next to the controller, not on the shelf. It was a reference guide, but it felt like a treasure map. You could flip to the game you were playing and instantly boost your skills with a Game Genie code or secret button combo.
Game magazines that defined the ’90s had a role to play, and Tips & Tricks filled a specific niche. It was focused, practical, and incredibly useful. The internet eventually replaced it with wikis and Reddit threads, but there’s something romantic about how this magazine operated, clear, direct, and full of gamer goodwill.
Diehard GameFan: A Visual Feast
GameFan felt like a magazine created by artists who happened to love games. Every issue was packed with rich screenshots, saturated colors, and some of the best page layouts of any gaming mag at the time. They weren’t just showing off graphics, they were showcasing them like fine art.
The magazine also leaned hard into import coverage. That made it feel like a window into another world. You could read about games from Japan months, or even years, before they ever made it stateside. That exposure helped fuel my love of RPGs, especially titles like Lunar, Ys, and early Final Fantasy spin-offs.
Game magazines that defined the ’90s stood apart not only by what they covered but how they presented it. GameFan proved that visuals matter just as much as words. Every issue felt like a collector’s item, a curated gallery of gaming’s finest moments.
Official PlayStation Magazine: The Demo Disc Revolution
The arrival of Official U.S. PlayStation Magazine in the mid-to-late ‘90s changed the game, literally. Not only did it deliver sleek PlayStation coverage and in-depth features, but it came bundled with demo discs. Those little silver gems introduced me to dozens of games I might have otherwise missed.
You’d pop the disc in, try out a few titles, and discover your next obsession. I found Metal Gear Solid, Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater, and Ape Escape that way. The demos weren’t always polished, but they offered a tangible connection to the games we read about.
Game magazines that defined the ’90s often teased what was coming next. The PlayStation mag gave us a taste. It was a perfect hybrid of media and marketing, a brilliant way to connect print to the digital playground.
The Ritual and the Memory
Back then, reading a game magazine was a ritual. You’d grab your copy, flip to the letters section, scan the top reviews, and circle the titles you’d beg your parents for next. Every ad felt like a promise. Every preview felt like a glimpse into the future.
And even though the games themselves were the main attraction, the magazines created a kind of mythos around them. You didn’t just play Super Metroid, you studied maps in Nintendo Power. You didn’t just rent Virtua Fighter, you read reviews in GamePro comparing it to Tekken. These publications built a narrative around every release.
Game magazines that defined the ’90s weren’t just about informing, they were about belonging. Whether you were loyal to Sega, Sony, or Nintendo, there was a magazine that spoke your language and gave you a space to feel seen.
The Fall of Print and the Rise of Nostalgia
Eventually, the digital age came for print. Websites could update hourly. Forums offered instant opinions. Video previews replaced screenshots. Slowly, the magazines thinned out. Covers got less exciting. Pages shrunk. And then, one by one, they faded away.
But the love never left. Retro fans still seek out old issues. There are YouTube channels dedicated to flipping through old EGM or GameFan spreads. Archive projects are scanning entire runs of Nintendo Power. It’s clear that the impact is still felt today.
Game magazines that defined the ’90s remain etched in the hearts of those who lived through it. Their influence can be seen in gaming podcasts, YouTubers who dissect retro content, and even in how modern media structures its previews and reviews.
Conclusion
Game magazines that defined the ’90s didn’t just report on games, they created a culture. They gave us language, identity, excitement, and discovery. Every issue was a passport to something bigger than ourselves, a movement, a world, a dream that kept evolving.
Though their era has ended, the spirit of those magazines lives on in every gamer who stayed up late reading cheat codes under the covers, every collector who still holds on to dog-eared issues, and every blog post like this one that remembers just how powerful print could be when it was made with passion and love for the game.