Musically, the songs are relatively similar in tone. There’s that laid-back, just-making-it groove that was once practised by The Badloves, and there’s more than a touch of the sort of countrified folk that bands like The Jayhawks or Love Me call home. Alt-country? This disc sounds a little too cheery for that, no matter how mopey some lyrics may seem. Indeed, there’s a sense of wistful observation that pervades the album. There’s looking back and there’s learning – but there’s never hopeless despair. Light always glimmers – however far off – in Waters’ world.

Highlights of the album include Wipe Away My Tears, the tune that’s closest to the genesis of Rosa Duet. Lisa Miller and Rebecca Barnard - two artists who shared the stage with Waters for a “Back Porch” gig, from whence the idea of a personal, shared series of songs came – provide vocals that verge on the spine-tingling. Kim Salmon’s vocal duties on Make It Count possess his requisite sneer, while the band ply a Calexico-style trail, all Morricone horns and giddy-up guitar lines. I Won’t See You Again, with Matt Walker, is a pretty standard done-me-wrong tune, but it’s one of the most emotionally-effective tunes on disc. It gutters out in a series of bent notes, providing perhaps Rosa Duet’s darkest moment. The pace is picked up with Jessie (Me And You) which – over the top of a gloriously driving progression with church-house organ – features the rich vocal interplay of Waters and Anna Burley. A similar acceleration occurs on the Git-accompanied Further Down The Line, before the album’s closer, a rootsy, dirty tune with Ashley Davies (Make Some Decision) brings it on home, in true bottleneck style.

Rosa Duet proves to be the perfect soundtrack to an lugubrious afternoon with a couple of drinks as the sun filters through the blinds. It possesses a simplicity and sense of artistic ebullience that gives it an honesty that’s endearing – so much so that it’s hard to highlight any one song over the others. Recommended.