X.Y.R. - Memory Tapes

  • A peaceful and at times eerie homage to youth made with X.Y.R's signature Soviet-era synth.
  • Share
  • Valdimir Karpov came up putting out featherweight ambient as X.Y.R. on labels including Constellation Tatsu and Quiet Time Tapes. But the North American edition of his new record, Memory Tapes, arrives via California's psychedelic Not Not Fun—the fitting home for some of Karpov’s most memorable releases to date. The Saint Petersburg, Russia-based producer’s last full-length—2022’s murky Aquarealm—was inspired by the ocean. Memory Tapes contrasts the darkness of that album, drawing from Karpov's teenage recollections of love, swimming and shelved fantasies. Here, things are nostalgic and innocent. The whole record is summery, withdrawn and a little glum, as if it emerged from the background of a barely-remembered daydream. Much of Memory Tapes skews beatless. The airiest pieces on the album are so soft and hazy that they start to take on a sense of eeriness. "Deep Kisses" is wonky and dubbed-out, with resonant clicks that weave through layers of filtered keyboard noodling. Opener "Big Dreams" is centered on smudged arpeggiations that disintegrate into a grainy cloud of noise. "Rybinsk Lake Shelter" is mysterious, with horn and mallet flourishes peppered atop a smokey backdrop of found sounds and pads. Karpov's lo-fi formula revolves around the use of a Soviet-era Formanta Mini synthesizer, which lends his music a borderline toylike quality. On Memory Tapes, this palette harkens back to the '70s heyday of the Berlin school as well as the cosmic work of early 2010s Balam Acab. Whimsy beams especially bright on Memory Tapes's more driving—albeit still downtempo—cuts. "Wildflowers" opens with deep chords and bell-like leads, which eventually give way to filtered, simplistic drums. "Midnite Swims" lives up to its aquatic title, thanks to wave samples that crash beneath gossamer melodies. "Rambling Conversations" is glued together by dusty murk, like something that might play on the speakers at a mystical head shop. On closer "Surf’s Up," motorik percussion and deep, echoing synths are mixed so lightly that they fade into a mesmerizing, washed-out blur. At its most rhythmic, the record feels like it could soundtrack a tender, fleeting romance. Earlier this year, I watched Charlotte Le Bon's Falcon Lake. Laced with allusions to premature death, the melancholy film tells the story of two teenagers coming of age while on vacation in Quebec. They spend the summer partying, bonding and splashing around in the titular body of water, all the while wary of a ghost rumoured to haunt it. Listening to Memory Tapes, I can't help but think of that movie. Both are cast in the same bittersweet glow, one as spooky as it is wistful. Memory Tapes pines for bygone youth as much as it celebrates it, a strikingly delicate collection of tracks that yearn for easier times.
  • Tracklist
      01. Big Dreams 02. Strange Adventures 03. Midnite Swims 04. Wildflowers 05. Deep Kisses 06. Rybinsk Lake Shelter 07. Rambling Conversations 08. Heartbreakers 09. Surf's Up 10. Happy Thoughts (Extended)
RA