soul-jazz pop glowing with desire, dusk-light warmth, and a voice that knows the truth before you say it

sazerac by rose white slips in like a late-night confession, smooth on the surface but carrying that quiet sting underneath. her voice is husky, warm, touched with a little ache, pouring over bassy grooves and soft guitar lines that feel like the glow after a long day. there’s longing here, but also strength, a kind of slow-burn confidence that keeps the song lit from the inside.

born in poland, shaped in london, rose folds soul, jazz, and pop into something intimate and close-to-skin. her delivery aches in that beautiful way, like she’s telling the truth you weren’t ready to hear. the track moves with a sway, a candlelit pulse, carrying memories, closeness, and the kind of desire that hangs in the air long after the music fades.

there’s a cinematic haze to the production, sultry and unhurried, giving every note space to breathe. you feel her past, her fight, her fearlessness rising through every line. and still, it stays soft. vulnerable. human. the kind of song you play alone at midnight when you’re ready to let a little honesty in.

thank u for making this rose white 🍷