Alexei Shishkin has always carried himself as a unique figure in the indie world—more interested in creating than performing, more invested in process than polish. Good Times, his eleventh full-length and recorded in just four days, leans into that ethos completely. The album thrives in its improvisational, collage-like structure, mixing indie rock, jazz, Americana, and slacker rock into a patchwork that feels both messy and intentional. Shishkin’s commitment to spontaneity is evident in the opening track “Disco Elysium,” where noisy experimentation and strange phrases like Reptilian Rain immediately set the stage for a project unafraid to be playful, confusing, or even indulgent. It’s an album that doesn’t care about being tidy—only about being live.
Across the record, Shishkin balances moments of chaos with stretches of surprising calm. “Tiki Taka” swirls in a vortex of bass lines, dragging vocals, and lyrics about life’s repetitive cycles, before the guitars and drums spiral upward in intensity. By contrast, “Tough” and “So Lucky” slow things down, offering more intimate, lounge-inspired detours that showcase his knack for mood-building. “So Lucky” in particular feels like stumbling into a dim-lit room where a band is jamming just for five patrons in a lounge and restaurant, the kind of moment you’d wish could stretch out forever.
Shishkin’s willingness to pull from different genres keeps Good Times unpredictable and strangely magnetic. “This Philosophy” dips into boom bap rhythms and twinkling piano lines, standing out as one of the lighter, more enjoyable tracks on the record. On the other end of the spectrum, “Invincible” throws listeners into a chaotic collision of sounds—playful, yes, but disorienting.
The album closes with a one-two of “I Like to Sit in the Cold” and the title track. The former is a standout—a jazzy, guitar-driven instrumental that briefly dips into vocals before fading out, carrying a charm that feels like the essence of the record’s best moments. “Good Times,” the piano-led outro, works as a quiet curtain call, though part of me thinks the penultimate track could have been the stronger farewell. Still, the sequencing captures the loose, diary-like nature of a project created in such a short window of time. The push and pull between coherence and collapse is the tension that drives the album. It doesn’t always land perfectly, but when it does, it feels like tapping into the mind of someone fearlessly chasing inspiration.
Written by Nthatile Mavuso
