Purity Ring Get Nostalgic On Self-Titled 4th Album
The Canadian duo’s latest acts as an imagined soundtrack to an RPG video game. Their lush electronic sound and exploratory tone effectively conjure the escapist virtual reality of their inspirations, although the result is more enticing in concept than execution.

Video game soundtracks don’t get as much recognition as they probably should. I still remember the one for Super Mario Galaxy: the triumphant fanfare-turned-spacey overture, the sweeping string-heavy leitmotif, that poignant symphonic suite during the climactic reunion between Mario and Rosalina in the game’s finale. As arbitrary as they may seem, these sounds are valuable not only in immersing the player into the environment of the game they’re playing, but also in giving texture to the act of exploring a reality separate from and more imaginative than our own. These sounds also carry an important formative quality, aurally summoning fond memories of being a kid and experiencing the escapism and sensorial pleasures of video games before the hardships of growing up came into full view. Canadian electronic duo Purity Ring have attempted to reconjure that sense of wonder by creating both a tribute to and emulation of the worlds and sounds of early 2000s video games for their new self-titled record, their first in five years.
The result is a dreamy soundscape that moves in fits and starts, occasionally delighting with its bright and pretty breakbeats and comforting retro-fetishist energy, but never quite gelling into an emotionally satisfying whole. Perhaps that’s by design. Most video game soundtracks, after all, are curated to exist less as a strict curation of songs and more as a loose assemblage of ambient noise that’s meant to be as playful as the games they’re scoring. In that regard, Purity Ring mostly succeeds, creating a visceral sonic backdrop that recalls the pixelated whimsical adventure and Y2K apocalyptic melodrama that defined the video games of the early Aughts. Still, one wishes it were as moving as James and Roddick seem to want it to be.
It makes sense that the band would try their hand at crafting something this nostalgia-inducing. Their influential 2012 debut shrines acts as a time capsule of sorts, capturing the millennial malaise and creative exuberance that powered the indie music scene in the early 2010s. Their plush, glossy sound works in that context and fits snugly with the atmospheric sonic design synonymous with games like Final Fantasy X and Nier Automata, both of which serve as thematic and tonal inspirations for Purity Ring. Lead singer Megan James is also perfectly suited for this kind of experiment. The delicate, ethereal lilt in her voice evokes a childlike curiosity that glides nicely across Corin Roddick’s glitchy production style. Purity Ring certainly sounds (and is titled) like the soundtrack for a fictitious video game, one that, according to James and Roddick, follows two digital avatars of the duo on a “journey to build a kinder world amid the ruins of a broken one.”