Memory works strangely. It doesn’t record events sequentially, like a video camera. It leaves fragments: a smell, a sound, a random detail – and assembles something new from them. Nashville singer Bernice Marsala knows this. Her new single “Music Box” is built on how nostalgia deceives – because it is sometimes beautiful, insistent, and convincing. “Music Box” begins with a groove that hints rather than dictates. The drums enter sharply, but not aggressively – they seem to be checking whether you’re ready to listen further. The guitars “cut” the space at an angle – sharp, angular riffs with a slight dissonance, leaving jagged edges in the melody but not destroying it. And if you’re one of those who judges a song by its title, I must disappoint you: don’t expect consolations. Marsala makes you remember through discomfort – through a tense rhythm that doesn’t let you relax, and a melody that eludes resolution.

Photo by Mary Grevas
This approach is not accidental. Marsala has conservatory education and roots in folk – the kind of baggage that could have confined her to the framework of “proper” music. But she chose a different path: took the skills and added alternative rock, seasoning it with pop melodies and a pinch of folk. Her strong, unshowy voice doesn’t sell emotions – it’s convincing, you believe it. The lines work on dissociation – a state when you’re physically present but emotionally switched off. “I have to keep reminding myself I’m alive” – a sharp phrase. It speaks of depersonalization – the connection with reality weakens greatly and you have to consciously return to the moment – something people experience in acute states of anxiety or trauma.
Everything sounds natural, without forcing – a “sweet balance” that gives the song universality. Bernice Marsala uses pauses as part of the arrangement – quite a rare skill. Sometimes it’s enough to simply lift the lid of a music box – to see that the mechanism has long been broken, and the ballerina spins by inertia. Bernice Marsala understands this and isn’t afraid to show it.









