It takes skill and artistry to recast everyday sounds from mundane to deeply sentimental. On this album, named after a wine bar rather than a sexual metaphor, while the Canadian-American composer Claire Rousay foregrounds acoustic piano, guitar and strings, the recorded sounds of her kitchen, passing cars and snippets of conversation punctuate the music’s sleepy tone in such a way as to gently enmesh it with an entrancing world.
One of the pieces, ‘Night One’ epitomises this relationship between the different forms of instrumentation, in which intertwining piano, guitar and strings are underpinned with background noise, conjuring up an image of a nocturnal roadside rendezvous. A guest spot from fellow ambient artist M. Sage on the lead single, ‘Just’, lends the record its first traces of warmth, with a dissonant arrangement of strings coalescing into a richly textured soundscape. It is grounded by the occasional earthy piano note, although not before we endure the mournful sounds of some unknown inanimate objects.
An obvious exception to this approach is the glitchy opening track, ‘I Couldn’t Find The Light’, which is somewhat horrifying. With its distorted spoken-word elements and industrial metallic screeches, it induces a sense of claustrophobia that, luckily, is remedied by the end of the album. By this point, its cosiness is no longer claustrophobic.
The effort that Rousay has put into the music is audible. The second single from the album, ‘Somewhat Burdensome’, reportedly took fifteen months for her to arrange – living up to its name – although its flitting, ethereal piano trills apply a light-hearted touch of whimsy, a far cry from the gravity of track one. In the closing title track, harmony is attained, evoking a sense of finality – whether that represents finally returning home, or the end of a life, or both.
A Little Death showcases Rousay’s ability to convey complex feelings of nostalgia, bringing to mind the themes of films such as Aftersun or Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind in their wistful approach to the portrayal of memories. Rousay has previously ventured into film scores, reimagining a subdued soundtrack for Viktor Kubal’s 1980 animated film The Bloody Lady in 2024. Although Rousay’s music doesn’t require visual accompaniment, the silver screen will be blessed if she decides to pursue this direction in her work.
