Art born from cultural isolation tends to be idiosyncratic. Based out of the far Northeast city of Changchun, China, Yikii is familiar with feelings of isolation, both socially and self-imposed. The multidisciplinary musician, producer and writer, keeps a low profile, sharing only choice, often anonymized details of how her artistic endeavors have allowed her to build a world of her own within China's heavily policed cultural landscape. Her latest album, The Crow-Cyan Lake, released through New York label Unseelie, is a reflection of the dysphoria and absurdity she perceives around her. This newest record genre-hops some more, falling somewhere between avant-garde pop, post-club and neoclassical darkwave. It's reminiscent of popular styles that have emerged in a digital sphere that has united emerging underground artists across China. But much like her music, Yikii is hard to locate, preferring to create in a state of solitude.
The Crow-Cyan Lake knits ambient soundscapes and microtonal synths into an eerie and emotionally charged collage. On "Memoirs Of The Corrupted City," Yikii ruminates on the recent misery inflicted on her community at the hands of draconian pandemic restrictions. She's hyper-sensitive by nature, and empathizes too easily, she says. In "Zoomorphism Migraine," she describes her visceral experiences with migraines through a sequence of discordant, uncomfortable sounds.
These songs blur the lines between real experiences and fantasy, as written by a frequent dreamer. The sixth track on the album, "Tragic Sublime," was written to herself to soothe her vulnerabilities to the world around her, she told me over email. The track starts with a cacophonic eruption of drums and wind instruments before streamlining into an eerie instrumental lead, speaking to her reactiveness to external stimuli. In spite of its brash opening, the song transitions smoothly to the next track "The Undying Butterflies," a more soothing soundscape—a reminder that there are still moments of calm among the calamity.
Though she remains intensely private, Yikii is also part of a wider internet community brought together by a shared interest in slightly off-kilter art—things that push the boundaries of what is comfortable. And The Crow-Cyan Lake emphasizes more nuanced emotions, sometimes negative ones, that go against the grain of what is traditionally welcomed in Chinese media. She asserts that "people often say my music is not normal, that they see positivity and happiness as normal, and that writing about despair and sadness is an 'abnormality' that should be erased." Amazing Album!! Only 50 Worldwide!! For The Serious Collector! No REASONABLE Offer Refused!!