On previous albums like Everything Perfect Is Already Here (2022) and A Softer Focus (2021), Claire Rousay embraced ambient music and field recordings, turning activities as mundane as a trip to a local farmer’s market into a compelling experimental audio experience. On her latest LP, there’s more of a singer-songwriter vibe, albeit one that still leans on these ambient stylings to bolster the songs, especially since the subject matter tends to be personal loss and sadness.
On Sentiment, Rousay begins with the unsettling “4pm”, as fellow experimental artist Theodore Cale Schafer recites what sounds like a possible suicide note. “It’s 4:00pm on a Monday,” he says in a deadpan voice. “And I cannot stop sobbing / I haven’t been able to eat or sleep or leave the bed for days / Crying every single day for the past 20 days / Now that I type it out / That seems like an obvious red flag / Something is wrong.” Schafer’s recitation continues, and is followed by light industrial noises combined with a gentle ambient backdrop, leading into “head”, a typical track on Sentiment – Rousay sings through heavy Auto-Tune and backed by acoustic guitar. “Spending half of my whole life giving you head,” she sings, “Just in case you need to forgive me / one day for something that I did.” The deep sense of depression, regret, and loss are countered by tuneful touches and the somewhat surprising element of contemporary emo-pop.
This feeling appears all over Sentiment. It might be too much of a generalization to refer to the record as a “downer” – it’s deeper than that. It’s described on its Bandcamp page as “a meditation of the poignant emotional terrains of loneliness, nostalgia, sentimentality, guilt, and sex”. In the ballad “It Could Be Anything”, Claire Rousay spies an ex-lover in a new, sexually charged relationship. “Do you ever think about what I’m doing / When he’s doing you / ‘Cause I do.” Later, expertly backed by Mari Maurice’s violin, the nostalgia kicks in: “Mental blasts of the best parts,” she sings. “Back when the apartment was yours and mine.” The constant presence of Auto-Tune seems like an unusual choice. Still, it gives the songs a more melodic kick, making the emotional wallops easier to take (even when it gets even more robotic, as on the gut-wrenching “asking for it”).
Instrumental tracks are peppered throughout Sentiment, possibly as a reprieve from the heartbreak, but are no less majestic or moving. “iii” moves through a series of ambient textures, with Rousay’s ever-present acoustic guitar joined by synthesizers, field recordings, and the string accompaniment of Julia Brüssel on violin and Emily Wittbrodt on cello. “Sycamore Skylight” is along those same lines, with more of an emphasis on the strings and the background nature ambience that’s such a vital aspect of Rousay’s best work. “W Sunset Blvd” is pure field recording, a short, fly-on-the-wall observance of a public conversation that recalls A Softer Focus.
But at the heart of Sentiment is genuine emotional hurt and reflection – “Lovers Spit Plays in the Background” sees Rousay falling apart and acknowledging the crippling act of intoxication. “Flex at the party / And never say sorry / Egos still hurt / It was the Jameson.” Aided by Meg Duffy’s guitar, Rousay closes Sentiment with the gentle, fractured “ily2″, where she hopes that, at the very least, unconvincing words can help heal:” It doesn’t have to be true,” she sings. “Just say it like you mean it / Like anything, I’ll believe it.”
Sentiment is a deeply melancholic work suffused with a gentle beauty in the emotions Claire Rousay expresses in the lyrics and the ambient delights that the music provides. The outcome is partially surprising, given the context of Rousay’s previous efforts, but a warm, welcome surprise.