A Distant Memory

“A Distant Memory” opens with a counted-off “one, two, three, four” that sets a brisk 4/4 in C major, and from there Rose lets a female vocal float above a clean, roomy groove that leans more toward jazzy indie-pop than any straight ballad. The writing works its usual patient magic in small phrases: “Memories holding me / Barely” earns its line break, and the swap from “holding me” to “warming me” between verses is the kind of quiet turn Rose does better than most. The repeated “Your face is a distant memory” risks wearing thin over three passes, but the arrangement rescues it with a genuine swell around 1:44, where the band opens up into a bright instrumental break before easing back into the pulse. It reminds me a little of Aimee Mann working over a warmer rhythm section: restrained on the surface, aching underneath. Not the most immediate thing in his catalog, but it rewards a second and third pass. A grower, and worthy of a listen.