Because Olivia Chaney only makes great records, it’s tempting to take her new album ‘Circus of Desire’ almost for granted: of course it’s another 40 minutes of uninterrupted beauty and understated elegance. But to do so would be a terrible mistake, especially if it meant ignoring the knotty contradictions and thrilling undercurrents in this latest collection of songs.

For those unfamiliar… Chaney eludes easy classification. You’ll find her records in the folk section, but in fact, she wanders freely across a range of genres.

Classical features heavily – as well as covering early music on her own releases, she has collaborated with the Kronos Quartet on their ‘Folk Songs’ album, and Concerto Caledonia on two projects for Delphian. (The finger-ahead-of-the-pulse ensemble The Hermes Experiment have recognised this aspect of Chaney’s work by covering her masterpiece, ‘Roman Holiday’.)

Moving in a different direction, she also played a key role in one of the finest folk-rock albums of recent years, ‘The Queen of Hearts’, by Offa Rex – a ‘supergroup’ bringing Chaney together with indie storytellers the Decemberists, resurrecting old tunes for modern ears.

‘Circus of Desire’ is Chaney’s third full-length album under her own name and focuses almost exclusively on her own compositions. Great news for us, as this set of lyrics is open, wise and forensic, calmly unpicking the knots of relationships – whether between lovers or family – and it seems the harder she is on herself, the gentler she is with us. Chaney’s beautifully expressive voice channels joy and pain in equal measure, a kind of confident grace.

I’m irresistibly drawn towards artists and records that place value on attention to detail, and for me, this is what makes ‘Circus of Desire’ such a success. The arrangements and production are crucial: they reflect and amplify the kinds of contrast I describe above. The album finds an exquisite balance between warmth and sparseness. No sound is surplus to requirements. Each element has been captured in great clarity and detail, and only deployed when necessary.

The space in the room is audible, and you can sometimes hear the ‘touch’ of the musicians as well as the acoustic noise of the instruments themselves. Sometimes this feels as light as a caress. The overlap between the absolute clarity of voice and melody, and the ambient wash of accompanying sounds, creates a kind of elusive intimacy. One gorgeous example is ‘Mirror, Mirror’ where the strumming in the background is crystal clear, but so delicate it’s more like a gossamer through-line than a tool of propulsion.

I love this atmosphere of robust restraint. Most of the album is ‘beat-free’, but there is still plenty of movement, punctuated by depth-charge bass notes. When drums or percussion appear, they add colour as much as noise, such as the distant, questioning rhythm echoing the lyric in ‘Why?’, or the military drum at moments of determined self-realisation in ‘Art of Losing’.

This prompted me to realise how much of this album – and it’s no surprise given Chaney’s classical leanings – puts me in mind of a modern kind of art song. In ‘Zero Sum, for example, she sets a poem by her mathematician grandfather amid a cascade of scales. In particular, the songwriting is brilliantly onomatopoeic, the music constantly illustrating and illuminating the lyrics. Take ‘Calliope’, about Chaney’s daughter, shot through with angelic energy, with a tune of darting brightness… Or by contrast, the slightly sinister, shuffling approach of the ‘Bogeyman’: at the edge of what you can hear, in the same way the ‘daemon’ is ‘at the edge’ of the singer’s awareness.

Throughout, the ideas drive the music: ‘Galop’ – a heart-rending analysis of how easily families can fracture and the proximity of hate to love – features a climactic tumult, the closest the album comes to derailment, a near-loss of poise. As such, it’s a remarkable highlight. Listen, too, for how the melody of ‘To The Lighthouse’ winds, path-like, exactly where the vocal needs to go.

‘Circus of Desire’ is an unhurried, thoughtful, and open-hearted record. I think it will certainly be one of the most gorgeous and rewarding discs of the year. It respects your attention span. It’s not afraid of silence, or to stand still. Let Chaney both break, and win, your heart.

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‘Circus of Desire’ is widely available, but if you are interested in vinyl (or download only) you can support the artist directly and buy a copy from her Bandcamp page. I would also recommend the ‘Six French Songs’ EP – get them while you can!

Chaney also has two live dates coming up in June. Follow these ticket links for St George’s Bristol (6 June) and Union Chapel, London (11 June).