TL;DR: A wonderfully weird, content-rich, chaotic action-racing game that’s sometimes too simple for its own good but almost always a blast to play — especially with friends.

The first time I booted up Kirby Air Riders on the Switch 2, I had the exact same feeling I get when I bump into an old high school acquaintance who suddenly looks hotter, happier, and inexplicably more successful than everyone thought they’d ever be. There’s a warm “good for you!” and a confused “how are you doing this?” wrapped in one. Because Kirby Air Riders — this sequel nobody had on their bingo card — is not just real, it’s shockingly confident about its own existence. It shows up like, hello, I’m here to resurrect a cult GameCube oddity that half the planet forgot existed and the other half only remembers because City Trial was fun during sleepovers when the Doritos had gone stale and someone’s WaveBird batteries were dying.

Me? I was absolutely part of that second group. Kirby Air Ride was the kind of game you didn’t really “play” so much as vibe with. It felt like Sakurai swung a hammer at the racing genre, shouted “ONE BUTTON!” and then just… left it there. A game that occasionally seemed like it was doing you a favor just by letting you participate.

So you can imagine my confusion — and eventual giddy delight — when Air Riders loads up on my Switch 2 and immediately feels like that strange GameCube prototype finally achieved its final form after wandering in the wilderness for two decades like a puffball messiah.

And yes. I love it. But also: it drives me up the wall sometimes.

This is the story of that love.

The Pink Jet Engine of Nostalgia

The keyword Nintendo wants you to know is evolution. Like this game is staring directly at Smash 64 and Mario Kart 64and whispering “watch me cook,” and honestly, it does cook. It simmers. It throws in garlic and olive oil and that one weird spice you bought during the pandemic because TikTok told you “you just HAVE to try this.”

Booting up Air Riders feels like booting up a dream sequel that skipped two generations of hardware and several therapy sessions. All the stuff that made Air Ride feel like a physics experiment masquerading as a racing game has been turbocharged, cleaned up, refined, and expanded in ways that feel almost unreal. Machines accelerate automatically, drifting becomes a ballet of panic and muscle memory, and attacks feel weighty in a goofy, arcade-brawler way.

And despite all of that, despite all the new content and polished edges, this thing is still very much the chaotic toddler of Nintendo’s racing lineup, sprinting full speed with its shoelaces untied while Mario Kart watches from afar like a disappointed older brother.

Machines That Feel Like Personality Tests

Each machine handles like a deeply specific personality type, and piloting them feels like taking a BuzzFeed quiz from another dimension. “Which Air Riders Machine Are You?” Do you turn like you’re stuck in pudding? Do you accelerate like you stole something? Do you glide like a slightly drunk pelican? There is a vehicle for every mood and level of self-esteem.

My problematic fave? Chef Kawasaki, because the idea of a large, dead-eyed cooking man blasting curry at enemies while riding a star-powered hover machine speaks to me spiritually. He shouldn’t work as a racer, but he does, because Air Riders lives in a universe where cooking is an eSport and physics is optional.

And as much as I love the goofy special attacks and the roster that reads like Sakurai’s personal mixtape of Kirby memories, it’s the machines that truly stand out. The infamous Swerve Star? Still terrifying in its “I only turn when braking” energy. Jet Star? A heavenly rocket when airborne and a brick when grounded. The Chariots? Absolutely built for sweaty online meta gremlins.

This is the part where I admit: mastering these machines feels great. It’s the good kind of friction — the kind that makes learning rewarding without making it feel like a chore. But make no mistake, Air Riders demands onboarding. You can’t hand this game to your Mario Kart-only friend and expect them not to collapse emotionally. This is a game you play with intention, or with the acceptance that you will crash into every wall like you’re magnetically drawn to them.

Racing That Finally Feels Like Racing

If the original Air Ride was the equivalent of a toddler pushing a toy car and pretending it was driving itself, Air Riders’ Air Ride mode is the same toddler twenty years later, now fully licensed, slightly caffeinated, and driving a Subaru.

The races actually feel competitive now. There’s strategy. There’s rhythm. There’s the deeply nerdy satisfaction of hitting every boost, inhaling every enemy, landing every jump perfectly parallel to the ground like you’re chasing speedrun splits in a game that definitely does not want you to be that sweaty.

The track design? Chef’s kiss. These courses feel like rollercoasters built by someone who has played every Kirby game, watched a dozen anime finales, and consumed way too much cotton candy.

Mount Amberfalls — this autumn-drenched sprint down a leafy mountain — might be one of the prettiest things ever put in a Kirby game, period. And the returning courses feel like respectful remasters of classics, even if their simpler shapes betray their age like someone resurrecting a flip phone in the age of foldables.

Top Ride, or “The Obligatory Nostalgia Corner”

Here’s where my affection dims a little. Top Ride exists. It sure does. It is a mode. It has rules. It has courses. It functions.

But it’s absolutely the weakest part of the whole package.

I played it. I nodded politely. Then I walked back to the good stuff like someone leaving a mandatory family reunion activity to return to the snack table.

City Trial: The Reason You’re Here. The Reason Anyone is Here.

Ah yes. City Trial. The beating, chaotic, lovingly unhinged heart of the Air Ride franchise.

City Trial feels like the mode that spawned an entire generation of Nintendo kids who grew up craving structured chaos. If Air Riders were released as City Trial 2 with no other content, there would still be people doing victory laps in the streets.

Skyah, the new map, is a delicious playground. Seasons change. Fog rolls in. Bosses descend from the heavens. Warp gates appear and disappear out of spite. And you — small pink breeze-powered madman — zoom through all of it collecting stat boosts like a raccoon hoarding shiny objects.

The best moments in City Trial aren’t even the battles. It’s the shared laughter as your friend’s machine gets destroyed and they have to sprint on foot like a panicked marshmallow sprinting to the nearest vehicle. It is chaotic, silly, communal catharsis.

But yes: it gets hectic. Overwhelmingly so. There are moments where you lose control entirely and just hope physics will take pity on you. This is not a competitive mode. It is not esports material. It is barely governed by rules. But it is fun. It is pure, primal, dopamine-laced fun.

Stadiums — Why Are You Like This?

The Stadium selection system feels like an elaborate prank. Online, everyone gets separate choices and splits off into their own events like some sort of Kirby Hunger Games sorting ceremony. Offline, everyone votes and a roulette decides your fate.

Neither method fully works, but both are weirdly charming in their commitment to the bit.

I wish it were simpler. I do. I wish there were a dedicated selector like every other modern multiplayer game. But Air Riders clings to the original’s blueprint like a security blanket, and I can’t stay mad at it. This is a game that still believes one button is enough to change the world.

The Achievement Pyramid of My Dreams

Then there’s the achievements — all 750 of them — which I swear were designed by someone who wanted to turn Air Riders into a lifestyle choice. They give the game structure, purpose, and eleven different types of serotonin. Unlocking them feels like eating potato chips. You tell yourself you’ll stop after one. Then suddenly you realize you’ve unlocked 80 and it’s 3 AM.

And the rewards? Actually meaningful. Characters. Machines. Hats. Colors. Stickers. Alt palettes that feel like a love letter to Kirby fans. No microtransactions anywhere. Just pure, unfiltered unlockable goodness like the old days.

Plus, customizing machines is weirdly deep. I bought a GameCube-themed Wagon Star online from another player and I stared at it like it was a museum piece. The detail was absurd. The controller ports. The handle. The color shading. I could’ve cried.

Road Trip — Fun, But the Weakest Link

Road Trip, the single-player campaign, is like someone put Air Riders into a blender with Smash Ultimate’s World of Light, tossed in a handful of Kirby lore, and hit purée. It’s charming — extremely charming — but it’s also clearly not the main course.

Combat-focused challenges are where the one-button control scheme really shows its limits. Fighting a specific rival with precision feels like trying to thread a needle while riding a Roomba.

It works, but it’s the wobbliest leg of the whole table.

A Final Wave of Joy (and Mild Annoyance)

For all its quirks — and there are many — Kirby Air Riders is one of the most joyful surprises Nintendo has released in years. It is gloriously polished, relentlessly silly, mechanically unique, and often breathtaking in scale and detail.

It is also stubborn, chaotic, and occasionally too simple for its own ambitions.

But I love it. I love that it exists. I love that it feels like a sequel made by a development team who never stopped caring about a weird GameCube curiosity that most of the industry moved on from.

Kirby Air Riders is messy, magical, and unmistakably original. It won’t replace Mario Kart. It won’t dethrone Smash. It wasn’t trying to. It’s carving out its own weird little niche — and it’s thriving there.

Verdict

Kirby Air Riders is a chaotic, lovable, wildly ambitious revival of one of Nintendo’s strangest cult classics. Its physics are slippery, its controls are stubborn, and some old design choices really should’ve stayed in 2003 — but the sheer volume of content, the polish, the creativity, and the ecstatic joy of City Trial make it a must-play for anyone who craves something different. A little messy, a lot fun, and packed with personality, Air Riders soars far higher than anyone expected.