The lone guitar sadness of [B]'Rosie Rosita'[/B], the [a]Swans[/a]-like emptiness of 'Pipeline Disturbance' these send weighty sensations from a thousand beautifully shot Euro-tragedies racing th
Taking into account that the mood of a film is always reflected in the soundtrack, Patrice Troy‘s Belgian flick Rosie must be as desolate and existential as it is art-house. For here, [a]PJ Harvey[/a] collaborator, producer and all-round serious muso John Parish has stripped back his moody template to a bleak blues that chills with its authentic air of detachment.
Paradoxically, he’s pulled out all the stops to create the ambient sparseness of the continental avant-garde. The 13 excerpts on the LP are essentially fleeting incidental passages which work wonders with your imagination, even without the film’s visual guidance.
Stripped of vocals – with the exception of Tricky cohort Alison Goldfrapp‘s frail tones on the clipped neo-jazz of ‘Pretty Baby’ – it imparts an almost unbearable emotional solitude. The lone guitar sadness of ‘Rosie Rosita’, the Swans-like emptiness of ‘Pipeline Disturbance’ – these send weighty sensations from a thousand beautifully shot Euro-tragedies racing through you like particularly acute downers. In winter. In Iceland.
Not an LP for the office party, then, but one which will assist in the reading of those Kafka novels gathering dust on your shelves.