NY-based Brandon Rosen’s debut album, Hourglass, is a short but powerful introduction from a new voice in piano-driven pop. Though it runs just over twenty minutes, the album is full of emotion and strong melodies that make it feel much bigger. With its focus on storytelling and expressive piano, Hourglass shows that Rosen values self-reflection and warmth over flashy production.

I was so happy to see him last month, opening for Izzy Escobar at Brooklyn’s At The Baby’s All Right.

Many debut albums are long and ambitious, but Hourglass stands out for its modest approach. This does not mean Rosen lacks confidence. Instead, he knows his strengths in melody, tone, and emotional timing, and he relies on them without adding unnecessary layers. His songwriting feels genuine and focuses on small moments, giving the album its unique character.

Background

Rosen’s musical background informs much of what makes Hourglass feel assured. He began playing piano at a very young age and grew up immersed in music, formed by classical training alongside a wide range of popular influences. That early foundation instilled a sensitivity to harmony, phrasing, and emotional contour that remains central to his work. Over time, his listening expanded to include rock, folk-leaning pop, and inward-looking, singer-songwriter traditions, all of which subtly surface throughout the album.

Rosen places the piano at the heart of his songwriting. On Hourglass, the piano isn’t simply accompaniment; it is the emotional backbone of the record. It shapes mood, tension, and release, guiding the listener through the album’s reflective terrain. Rather than chasing current pop trends, Rosen embraces a style that feels intentionally timeless — one that values touch, phrasing, and emotional clarity.

The album’s title offers a clear thematic entry point. Hourglass is preoccupied with time: how it moves, how it escapes us, and how it reshapes relationships and self-perception.

There’s a calm urgency beneath the album’s calm surface, a sense that each song is wrestling alongside moments already slipping into memory. Where many contemporary pop albums push toward maximalism and immediacy, Hourglass resists that impulse, opting instead for reflection and emotional patience.

Start

The album begins with “Fantasie 27,” a brief, impressionistic, Chopin-based piano piece that functions as an overture rather than a conventional song. At just over a minute, it establishes a mood more than narrative — reflective, slightly wistful, and emotionally open-ended. The piece unfolds with fluid phrasing and expressive pauses, allowing the piano to drift and hesitate. It feels less like an introduction than an invitation, gently framing the album as something inward and time-aware.

That atmosphere carries directly into the album’s emotional centerpiece, “Hourglass.” Built around piano and gradually expanding instrumentation, the title track unfolds with quiet confidence. Rosen’s vocal delivery is restrained but expressive, allowing the central metaphor to resonate without overstatement. Time here is not abstract — it is personal and felt, marked by moments held too tightly or lost too quickly. The arrangement grows organically, layering subtle textures without ever overwhelming the song’s emotional core. (”September’s getting closer, and if I could knock the hourglass over, I would, I don’t want to get older”)

“To the End of the Earth” introduces a subtle shift in energy. With a slightly brisker tempo and brighter melodic lift, the song frames devotion as movement rather than stasis. Love is portrayed as something that evolves over distance and effort, adding momentum to the album without disrupting its introspective tone. (“Any day that the wind picks up, if it’s more than a breeze. Would you go to the end of the earth for me?”)

The gospel music is abundant. Between this and “Hourglass”, these two are my favorites!!

“Like a River” stands as one of Hourglass’s most fully realized compositions. Flowing piano lines and swelling harmonies reinforce the song’s central metaphor, suggesting emotional continuity rather than abrupt change. Rather than building toward a dramatic release, the song moves steadily forward, embodying the idea that growth and healing often happen gradually.

The album closes on a beautiful note with “Clair de Love,” (a Claude Debussy reference, of course!), a brief, hushed epilogue that fades rather than concludes. Under two minutes, it feels like a final thought whispered after the conversation has ended (“You’re all I ever, all I ever wanted”). Gentle piano, softened vocals, and deliberate restraint leave us suspended in reflection rather than resolution.

Verdict

Throughout Hourglass, Rosen’s dual role as songwriter and producer is evident. The production favors warmth and clarity, allowing space for dynamics and emotional nuance. Acoustic textures dominate, supported by subtle percussion and occasional orchestral touches that enhance the mood without crowding the songs.

As a debut, Hourglass is quietly assured. It does not attempt to reinvent pop songwriting, but it refines it — emphasizing cohesion, emotional honesty, and melodic patience. There is room for growth in future releases, particularly in dynamic range and sonic risk, but the foundation here is strong and thoughtfully constructed.

I was happy to meet him and get his autograph on his album. 🙂

Ultimately, Hourglass feels less like a statement than a beginning. It invites listeners to slow down, to sit with its songs, and to let time pass naturally. In a musical landscape often defined by urgency and excess, Brandon Rosen’s debut makes a compelling case for stillness — and for the power of listening closely.

Rating: 8.5/10

Chris Garrod, January 6, 2025

Listen or Buy: https://brandonrosenmusic.com