Chris Tapsel, Eurogamer:

If it weren’t for the people involved, in 2024, these closures would almost feel routine. This is far from the end of Xbox, of course - in Los Angeles next month, it’ll hold yet another make-or-break press conference, that maps out yet another plan for rescuing a lost generation. But be it through exasperation or exhaustion - or the wider industry’s sheer, pent-up rage - this feels like something of a nadir. Xbox has spun its wheels for more than a decade, lurching from U-turn to U-turn, strategic reboot to strategic reboot, acquisition to acquisition, closure to closure. The good times have always felt just over the horizon. Project Scorpio will set the tone; Game Pass is the future; the Series X will have the games; Starfield will jump-start Game Pass now it’s stalled. The growing sentiment today is that they’ll probably never come.

The immediate response is, justifiably, anger. Closing studios always feels villainous, but closing award-winning ones, ones with eminent talent, creativity and expertise, feels genuinely absurd - just as it did with Take-Two and the wonderful people of Roll7 and Kerbal Space Program developer Squad, only last week. But with Microsoft and Xbox, the problem feels part of something bigger. Trace a line through the modern history of Xbox - from the end of the 360 era, through the lost years of the Xbox One, to the present day - and a scarlet thread becomes clear. This is a platform holder that has lost its purpose and direction, that fundamentally - and perhaps inevitably, given the sheer vastness of its parent company - misunderstands why it exists.

The video games journalism world is whirlwind dunking on Microsoft in a way I’ve not seen since…last weekend, when Kendrick absolutely wiped the floor with Drake.

Brutal headline, too.