From time to time, you want to take a break from the endless stream of digital music and remember what it was like to listen to records or cassettes. There is a special magic and nostalgia in this. Today, we will take a look back at the past and remember one of the symbols of Soviet life — the Yauza 220 cassette player.
This two-cassette deck was a coveted device for many families in the 1980s. It allowed you not only to listen to music, but also to record it from cassette to cassette, which was a real miracle for that time. The Yauza 220 stood in the living room, serving as the center of the home music world, and an entire generation grew up with it.
Let's take a look at what made this tape recorder so good, what its distinctive features and shortcomings were. Let's remember the place it occupied in the lives of ordinary people and why, today, in the age of streaming, interest in such devices is returning.
A brief historical overview and technical specifications
The Yauza-220 Stereo cassette player was manufactured by Moscow EMZ No. 1 from 1984. The MP was designed to record phonograms on magnetic tape and then play them back through a UKU with an AS. The attachment has light indicators for the main operating modes, recording control via headphones, separate recording level indicators, playback level indicators, pause, auto-stop, and headphone volume control.
The attachment works with three types of tape and has a Mayak noise reduction device. The detonation coefficient is ±0.15%. The operating frequency range with Fe tape is 40–12,500 Hz. For Cr: 40–14,000 Hz, and for FeCr: 40–16,000 Hz. The harmonic coefficient is 2%. The noise level in the Z/V channel with the SH system was –54 dB. Device dimensions: 430x315x136 mm. Device weight: 7 kg.
The Yauza 220 is not just a cassette player, but a little piece of the past, remade. It replicates the style of Soviet technology, but with modern improvements: it plays cleanly, rewinds quickly, and looks like it was just taken out of an old chest of drawers, even though it works like new. People buy it not only to listen to cassettes, but also because it reminds them of a time when music was tangible and each track was an event. It's not a gadget, it's a mood.
Appearance
The design of the device combines features characteristic of domestic radio equipment of that time: no skimping on materials, a front panel made of fairly thick metal, a wooden upper part of the case, and a beautiful green gas discharge indicator, as expected. There is a cassette light, which is a huge plus, because some of the simpler imported devices, unfortunately, do not have one.
All controls are located on the front panel, tape transport controls are located under the cassette compartment, on the right are buttons for selecting the tape type, turning on or off the domestic noise reduction system, which is completely useless in my opinion, domestic noise reduction system, a button to turn on recording from an external microphone, which is also connected to the front panel, a recording level control, and a headphone output with a separate level control.
In a rack with Japanese cassette players, the device looks a little strange and, perhaps, clunky. But if you put it next to something Soviet, it will look very beautiful.
I can point out one significant drawback or flaw: usually, on all normal cassette players, the record button is located so that it cannot be pressed accidentally when switching between modes, but here they decided to place it between the play and stop buttons. Moreover, if you accidentally press it, the “record” mode is immediately activated, and the precious recording on the cassette is erased.
Restoration work
The tape recorder was bought for 1,000 rubles (not Soviet rubles, of course) for restoration. I took it because the original Japanese head was almost worn out, the device looked quite normal on the outside, showed signs of life, played something (although the sound kept disappearing and was too muffled), and the indicators had green lights running on them. The electronic part was untouched and showed no signs of non-factory soldering.
There were no serious malfunctions: after replacing the capacitors and fixing the factory soldering defects, the electronic part worked as it should. However, for unknown reasons, one transistor in the power supply failed during the process, so I replaced it as well.
I polished the green plastic glass on the indicator with Goi paste — there was some kind of cloudy mark on it that wouldn't come off.
As for the mechanical part, I replaced the idler—the factory one was stiff, and because of it, detonation was clearly audible. I didn't change the pulley—I don't have the right size, and it works fine for now. I would have changed the pressure roller as well, but I haven't found one with the same mounting yet, so I left it as it is. And I adjusted the azimuth to make it just right.
I was pleased that the repair work was done sensibly: the main board can be accessed from below, and all connections are on the ribbon cables. The only thing missing was separate connectors for testing the playback, recording, GSP, and noise reduction amplifier boards :).
The device in operation
When you press the “Power” button, the green gas discharge indicator and the cassette light come on. The cassette compartment opens smoothly when the corresponding button is pressed, as in all Japanese devices. When it is opened, power is not supplied to the LPM, and the cassette light turns off. The operating mode indicators are located above the corresponding LPM control buttons.
Controls are pseudo-sensory, Soft Touch, as expected. When rewinding, the head does not move all the way back, and the indicator shows the beginning of the next composition (you can also hear the soundtrack playing slightly faster in the speakers, but it is unclear whether this is a glitch or a feature). In this way, our domestic craftsmen have implemented a pause search function.
Regarding the tape drive mechanism: it seems to be dual-motor, but instead of having one motor for the drive shaft and the second for rewinding during playback (thereby reducing the detonation coefficient), the second motor is only activated during fast forwarding. How and why this was done is unclear.
There are three types of tape here, as on almost all domestic cassette players: Normal (Fe), Chrome (Cr), Ferro-chrome (FeCr). The fourth type (Metal) is not listed in the manual, although I haven't tried it — in principle, when playing, you can set the equalization to chrome, so it should work.
Spectrum of an imported studio cassette, recorded from the line output during playback
The device was also tested for recording: overall, it records quite decently, and the frequency response specified in the specifications turned out to be close to the truth — above the stated frequencies, a smooth roll-off of the frequency response begins. However, the device reproduces imported studio recordings and recordings made on other devices quite well: on first-type cassettes, the frequency response is up to 17 kHz, and then there is a smooth roll-off.
Listening
We will listen to it in combination with a Pioneer A-30 amplifier and Amphiton 25 AS-227 speakers. We will listen to several of our own recordings made on an Akai GX-32, as well as imported studio recordings.
Pink Floyd's “Wish You Were Here” on a fourth-type cassette sounds quite good. Of course, there is less airiness and microdynamics than necessary, but it is quite listenable.
Smokie's “Living Next Door to Alice” sounds quite open, with ringing strings, an immersive effect, and airiness.
The tracks recorded from the Rega test record sound quite bright, more modest than the original, of course, but quite acceptable. The separation of the string instruments is good, though not perfect. There is some muddiness in the high frequencies.
Dire Straits' “Money For Nothing” has quite bright drums, but it seems like the lowest bass is missing. The vocals are not harsh on the ears, the bass guitar is clearly audible, the soundstage is good, and the placement of the instruments is audible.
On Guns N' Roses' “Welcome To The Jungle,” you can really feel the drive of the song, but the separation of the instruments is not the best. Dynamic songs with a lot of drums and bass guitars are played quite well.
Motley Crue's “Wild Side” sounds bright, with good rhythm and percussion. The motorcycle sounds at the beginning of the album's title track sound almost like the real thing. The deck copes well with playing different types of rock: from heavy to melodic, although compositions with a lot of detail are somewhat simplified, and imported studio cassettes sound very good.
In general, if you don't compare it directly with some average Japanese two-head deck, it's quite listenable. Long listening sessions don't cause fatigue; the deck plays in its own way, with a slight, barely noticeable muddiness.
So, what do we have in the end? The Yauza 220 is a typical product of its era. It's not the pinnacle of engineering, but it's a solid, unpretentious workhorse for millions of Soviet families. It made it possible to listen to music, record it from the radio, and share it with friends. That was its main value.
Today, this deck is more than just a piece of technology. It is a tangible memory. Its appearance, sound, and even the smell of heated plastic work like a time machine. It instantly transports you to an atmosphere where music was a real event, not an endless stream from the internet.
Is it worth looking for it now? If you need flawless sound, no, modern solutions are much better. But if you want to touch history, feel nostalgia, or simply understand where it all began for many music lovers, Yauza will be an excellent exhibit. It reminds us that the magic of music is often hidden not in perfect characteristics, but in simple things that were part of our lives.
