In the deep mugginess of late summer, Chicagoan multi-instrumentalist Evan Lyman released synth pop LP “Night Vision” under his moniker, Deadly Habits.
In many ways a callback to past summers, “Night Vision” is a record that wastes no time in plunging the listener headfirst into sounds of the dispersed chillwave era, complete with dusty boom-bap drums and blues riffs.
Across its hour-long run, the dreamlike production floats but never abandons an earthier side; with synth-shrieks straight from an 80’s B-horror cult flick bleeding over low reggae bass tones, “Night Vision” is a record that puts its jams in the forefront; whenever delayed blues guitars begin to chew through, scenes of a smoky bar’s jukebox seep lucidly through the neon savannas that “Night Vision” paints with its psychedelia.
Vocally then, some of the features are met with a formidable challenge in delivering over the ever-evolving wilderness that Lyman crafts. The oft-featured Animah’s crystalline tones hover, while crooner Crofton Coleman channels the energy of 2010’s chatroom RnB demos a la Frank Ocean and The Weekend.
Beyond Animah and Crofton, emcees like Chuck Trash and Highlife provide raps that live as vignettes, tucked and darting within the rapidly-swarming sounds.
“Night Vision” grips to its name and lives it, narrowing the listener’s vision to the vaguest shapes. Its darker fits never linger too long in the murk and at its most manic, the album brightly outlines its smog with shimmering pads, trailing piano melodies and synth chirps. The result yields an almost operatic driving balance, where each passing moment of morbidity is marked with a pondering moment of beauty.