It’s been three years since Chikiss released an album. As an artist who has maintained a steady stream of work over the last two decades, this gives something by way of context to an album which sees her, as the liner notes put it, ‘exploring motivation and self-doubt, the long shadow of the Soviet Union, and collective empathy with a cinematic flair’, resulting in a work where ‘Chikiss weighs darkness and light, landing on the side of hope in her most considered and polished vocal album to date.’
Over the course of her career, she has incorporated post-punk, minimal wave, experimental electronica, and live improvisation within her compositions, and ‘Between Time And Laziness’ offers a wide-ranging sonic template, opening with a dreamy, semi-ambient piece with spoken word – poet Sergey Danilov’s words embedded with crackle and static, before ‘Evil Sky’ brings the beats which underpin an ethereal Krautrock sound laced with trickling synth detail.
The strolling bass of ‘DKN’ contrasts with its chilly synths and jazzy piano work, while Chikiss’ nonchalant vocal delivery balances the elements with poise. ‘Nevesta’, too brings something of a noirish vibe, but it’s mixed with some experimental proggy touches: Chikiss draws from a broad palette, but blends the myriad elements with a light 80s pop sheen and understated expertise.
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The title track is a particularly wibbly cut with doodlesome synths tripping away across a bulbous synth bass and motorik mechanised beats, and, landing towards the end of the album, the eleven-minute ‘Don’t be Afraid’ is a slow-drifting atmospheric piece which shifts and evolves through successive passages, the percussion becoming more prominent and the pace accelerating and then establishing a plateau of expansive washes of sound which creates a brooding backdrop for a sultry vocal performance.
‘Between Time And Laziness’ possesses an immediacy that hooks the listener, but it’s further listens which reveal the glorious layers and depths of this accomplished and unclassifiable work.
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