Sometimes, in life, when you're taking something of a battering, it's nice to withdraw and take time for yourself. In those moments, music is often the best company. The right music can soothe and smooth the edges, and this was very much the case here.

The EP opens with “Fever Dream”. The piano provides the heartbeat and momentum, while the percussion is subtle, almost recessed in the mix. At first it feels slightly disconnected from the piano-led rhythm, though its understated presence adds a delicate textural layer once it settles into the track.

There was something about the title track, “The Morning After a Death”, that felt very familiar. Not in an “I've heard this before” way, but in the kind of familiarity you get from listening to a great deal of classical music. It opens with a beautiful, atmospheric piano melody and my mind immediately started filling in the gaps with a counter melody and, sure enough, about 40 seconds later, that's exactly what happened. This is truly a thing of beauty, building with a kind of inevitability, a continuation that feels almost natural and unavoidable.

For me, the title “Your Breathing Sounds Like a Wave” perfectly describes the ebb and flow of breath. Essentially a waltz, it's fitting for a piece of music that moves with such slow resolution. But a simple description like that doesn't really do the music justice.

With titles, it's sometimes difficult to relate them directly to the music. As many will know, “Blanc” is the French word for white, but white, for me, suggests purity, hopefulness, maybe even happiness. Here, the music leans more toward melancholy and uncertainty. Maybe grey would have been a better choice. But what do I know beyond what I feel? I'm sure it will mean something entirely different to someone else.

Then we have another French title, “Nocturne pour Les Enfants”, which I believe translates roughly as “Nighttime for the Children”. Maybe it's the title guiding my imagination, but it feels very much like a lullaby, at least to begin with. The middle introduces a little chaos, an escalation that doesn't necessarily comfort or soothe, before falling back once more into calm and serenity.

“She Waits” also begins like a waltz and, again, the title feels suggestive, but the music reinforces that feeling. I can picture her waiting for someone, the yearning, the anticipation. Then a break. Is it him? The smile broadening, the heart racing, albeit briefly, before he's gone again and everything returns. Forlorn perhaps, but the memories persist.

The EP closes with “Listless”, which, for me, feels much sadder than the title alone suggests. The ever-present piano is joined by sweeping strings that tug at the heart and allude to heartbreak, loss, and sorrow. Yet when the strings fade, there is calm again and almost a sense of hope.

This wasn't the review I thought I was going to write, but sometimes I get so wrapped up in what I'm hearing that a review feels better served less by critique and observation and more by describing how the music makes you feel. This is a wonderful EP that, if anything, left me wanting more because, for the 20 minutes it lasted, it felt like being cocooned, protected.