YIAN

Album review

Among the several singles and EPs that London-based artist Lucinda Chua has released since her 2019, the most striking track may have also been the least original one. In 2022, Chua dropped a cover of Roy Harper's "Another Day" as a standalone single as well as on a Japanese-only compilation CD of 4AD deep cuts. Her new version owed nearly as much to the drenching atmospheres of This Mortal Coil's 1984 cover as it did to Harper's whispery, folk-focused 1969 original. While that approach may be easy to ascribe to Chua now being on the 4AD roster, the fact is that Chua seems less an inspired descendant of that classic melancholic dream pop sound than a kindred spirit. As an avant-pop composer equally deft on piano and cello as she is on squelching electronics, Chua is wildly capable of conjuring a range of soundscapes for her moody, textural pieces. Most commonly, she leans on a combination of strings, keys, and dense digital effects as a foundation, with her vulnerable, whispered lead vocals augmented by deeply layered multi-tracked choruses of herself. Yet, for all the density and complexity of her arrangements, Chua's music is relentlessly sparse and humane; you will notice her voice breaking with emotion and the creaks of her chair as she plays cello just as often as you are aware of the synthetic treatments being done throughout this work. And even then, while many cuts here—especially "I Promise" and "An Ocean"—hew most closely to that description, YIAN is far from a monochromatic album. The dense, synthetic orchestrations on the instrumental "Meditations on a Place" are as drone-y as they are unsettling, while other cuts like "Autumn Leaves Don't Come"—which finds Chua singing in a strong, direct voice that evokes Kevin Ayers of all people—are remarkably straightforward. YIAN is certainly a dark and emotionally resonant album but it's also one that shows the vast range of talent and potential in its creator. © Jason Ferguson/Qobuz