For youngsters growing up in the 80s, two forms of entertainment reigned supreme – video games and MTV. If only someone could find a way to merge these two entities, well, certainly that would translate into arcade gold. In 1983, Bally/Midway focused on one of the most popular rock acts of the era, Journey – a band that had two years earlier released the enormously successful Escape album, and more recently followed up with another big seller, Frontiers. Deemed the perfect choice for a video game adventure, arcades were soon filled with electronic versions of their biggest hits as players lined up to play Journey.

Each of the five band members was recreated by merging a digitized black and white photo of their head with a colorful, cartoon body. And each was given a range of facial expressions to convey how they felt about their particular circumstances in the game. A collection of their hits were played continuously during gameplay – or at least cheesy electronic renditions of them – including such chart-toppers as “Don’t Stop Believin’,” “Wheel in the Sky,” and “Chain Reaction,” – all emanating from a colorful cabinet, designed to look like their latest album.

In the game, members of Journey were eager to perform for their adoring fans; the only thing missing was their musical instruments – a particularly difficult obstacle considering the instruments just happened to be scattered around the universe on five different planets. Luckily, Journey didn’t just have some tattered old tour bus to travel around in, but a space-voyaging Scarab (the same vehicle that had graced many of their album covers.) This vehicle was of course essential to the task of retrieving their instruments.

First, lead singer Steve Perry had to get his microphone back. Unfortunately, it was located behind a series of opening and closing gates that formed a maze of sorts. And if poor Steve got caught in one of these gates along the way, it was time for Journey to find a new singer. A successful Steve, on the other hand, could use the powerful force of his microphone to blast his way back to the orbiting Scarab.

Keyboardist Jonathan Cain had his own set of problems. His piano resided at the end of a series of moving piano keys and conveyor belts that were destined to eat him alive. Assuming he made it across this perilous path, his return to the scarab was complicated by a series of orbs that he had to successfully destroy to reach his destination on the mothership.

To reach his kit, drummer Steve Smith had a particularly daunting challenge – a continuously rocking stage that could only be crossed by hopping from one big drum to another. Not only were these drums constantly in motion, but jumping on the same drum twice, caused it to disappear, removing an important stepping stone from the mix, and making it much easier for him to fall to his untimely demise. Upon reaching his drum set, Steve had to blast his way through a series of infinity symbols if he hoped to rejoin his space traveling bandmates.

Bassist Ross Valory had a simpler task ahead of him. He only had to navigate through a collection of rising stage platforms to reach his four-stringed friend. Better yet, when he and his instrument were reunited, he could simply catapult his way back to the Scarab. The other members of the band likely wished they had chosen to play the bass.

Finally, incendiary guitarist Neil Shon had a space-age jetpack to assist him in his quest. Strapping in to the futuristic transportation device, he had to carefully manipulate the controls and lower himself through a claustrophobic cavern, where any touching of the narrow walls would mean certain death. And once his guitar was securely strapped around him, he had to reverse course through the same passageway, this time not only avoiding the walls, but also a steady assault of slow-moving missiles.

Once the band had completed their individual challenges, Journey returned home to rock the house, taking the stage and belting out a rousing rendition of their smash-hit, “Separate Ways (Worlds Apart)” – thanks to a built in tape player in the game’s cabinet. Sounds like a perfect way to end the adventure, right? Well, not quite.

For all the perils that the band members faced in space, there was a more earthly adversary now, a horde of fanatic groupies. Taking on the duties of stage manager, players now had to use his oversized belly to ward off their advances towards the stage through three separate doors at the same time. Should you fail to be an effective bouncer, the groupies would rush the stage, the band would flee to safety, and the rabid fans would steal their instruments and return them back to the realm of outer space. Or in other words, you had to start all over again.

While certainly a unique approach to a video game, Journey sadly suffered from rather unfortunate timing, it's release occurring just before a significant crash in the video game industry. As a result, Journey’s adventures were over almost as quickly as they started. Eventually, the bandmates went their separate ways as well, but luckily, both the video game industry and the band eventually managed to stage a comeback of epic proportions.