You’d be forgiven for checking whether it’s a piano at all. The figure that opens “Like A Light Bulb” has been so thoroughly softened, so stripped of its hammer and attack, that it registers more like a dripping tap in the next room: a handful of notes circling on a loop until you stop hearing them as music and start hearing them as part of the furniture.
Into that comes Sophie Bickerdike, pitched just above the pattern and never once pushing against it. Her voice has blurred, warm edges of a Julee Cruise record heard through a wall. The pairing works because neither party seems interested in taking the lead. Piano and voice simply lean on each other and hang there, glowing faintly, filament style, which rather suits the title.
I played it three times on a night bus and couldn’t tell you where one run ended and the next began, which I mean as a compliment. Anyone who keeps Grouper, Julianna Barwick or the quieter corners of Harold Budd within reach will know this territory well. It’s slight, deliberately so, and asks nothing of you beyond a little patience. Give it that and it pays you back.
You can listen to “Like A Light Bulb” here.
