It’s no secret that Y2K aesthetics have been making a comeback in music lately. In recent years, mismatched clothing, dangerously high platform shoes, and plastic accessories have paired with cartoonish synths and retro beats in the music of many Gen-Z acts. For someone like me, who experienced this the first time around, it feels a bit surreal. That said, I’ve yet to find a group that captures the fun and optimism of the late ’90s as perfectly as France’s Tapeworms.
Building on the shimmering tones of their 2020 album Funtastic, the trio has expanded their sound with Grand Voyage, delivering 42 minutes of dreamy, Japanese-inspired hyper-pop. The album blends French house, shoegaze, and electro. But what truly defines Grand Voyage is the chaotic innocence of a video game arcade. With child-oriented samplers, FM synths, and Casio keyboards, its 12 tracks take listeners on a journey between sleep and waking.
Celebrating both the mundane and the fantastical aspects of life, members Margot Magnière, Théo Poyer, and brother Elliot began work on the album during the COVID-19 lockdown. On first listen, it makes perfect sense. Grand Voyage is escapism and nostalgia dialed up to 10. It is a snapshot of a strange period when many of us revisited past hobbies and passions for comfort. It’s essentially what the Y2K revival has been all about—embracing a carefree time before the events of 9/11, the Iraq War, and the current messes clusterfucks all living through.
The album’s strength and weakness lie in its cohesion. On one hand, the songs tend to blend into one bubblegum burst after another. On the other hand, that’s what makes Grand Voyage such a joy to listen to. Pressing play feels like turning your brain off and soaring into space. I found myself playing the album in full, nodding along with a big, silly grin.
In less capable hands, the barrage of voicemail messages, bouncy bass lines, and twee vocal drops could easily become grating. But the trio expertly keeps things moving before monotony sets in. Some music moves you, while others get you moving. Grand Voyage makes you feel like staring out a train window, playing a Gameboy, and munching on now-banned candy. There’s a place for tunes whose only aim is to bring glee, especially when done with skill and reverence.
With the band currently living in Japan for a year, I doubt this will be their last Tokyo-tinged release, and I’m all for it. Fueled by curiosity and bedroom production, the trio is likely building a treasure trove of forgotten sounds and visuals for what comes next.
If you’re in the mood for a deliriously good time that helps you forget your woes, jump aboard Grand Voyage. It’s the audio equivalent of falling into a black hole while cradling a Tamagotchi and an OG PlayStation.