KRANKY 1 May 2026
Six years after her debut, Ana Roxanne re-presents her voice as a simple and vulnerable thing, recorded in full breathiness and intimate awareness of the senses. It’s a personal instrument and carries meaning beyond the sparse and clear words. The set is a big mood piece, so gently phrased and paced as to verge on ambient. With only the debut solo album and one collaboration behind her, this is a treat for the ears.
The album opens with the simplest of instrumentation, thoughtful piano, widening to bass tones. “I can never reach you; I’ll keep it this way”; she sings on ‘Keepsake’, crooning sweetly on the chorus as she calmly reviews her quiet loss. Drone and meditative simplicity provide the atmosphere, alongside those vocals that carry a calm that belies deep feeling. The lengthiest piece, ‘Untitled II’, carries a human pulse in the drum beat, tishes of brushed cymbal, lonely fiddle and a distant piano tone. The instruments form as big a mood element as the lyrics, while the voice is an integral part of the sound, conveying meaning through sound more than text.
‘One Shall Sleep’ switches to spoken word on droney synth wash. The voice carries a sense of wonder and refers again to sleep, since dream and longing seem to be a key part of Ana’s world. The lyrics are a poem that Schumann used in one of his million lieder. As ever in Schumann’s choices, they freight a lot of meaning and image in a few words. There’s a couple of instrumentals and, though they continue the mood, they simply highlight how essential Ana’s voice is to the feel. They make me think of Jah Wobble’s ‘Requiem’ synth album, which just made me want to hear the voice of his bass. ‘Cover Me’ sees snow added to the peaceful metaphors of loss, calm and resignation and the album draws to a close with the slightly uplifting ‘Atonement’ offering a sense of moving on, albeit on a long road.
It’s a reflective and cleansing listen, bringing a sense of calm and clear-eyed wonder to wherever you are.
Ross McGibbon