For her new album "Domestic Sphere," Josephine Foster performs alone with her electric guitar. She deviates from her usual vocal tessitura to embody other frequencies, higher than usual, allowing her to go beyond the superficial layer of the tracks. The album unfolds like liturgical music for a restless home, whose claimed values are simply that everything is music and that our daily life is sacred, innate, and creative. In such a world, creaking doors reveal natural orchestras. Cats wail, giving rise to a melodic collaboration with the songs of Tennessee birds. Foster's world is an extra-sensory radio play in two acts, where songs envelop structures like ivy climbing a house. "Domestic Sphere" is also a spiritualist séance through song. Josephine channels the sound of her inner and outer landscapes. She incorporates field recordings to illustrate the daily life of a Spanish village and other moments of her own nomadic musician's life, or, in a tender cameo, we hear the voice of her great-grandmother from beyond, brought back to life with the help of Daniel Blumberg on production. These songs are vigils. Their melodies are sung by the wind around a wood fire before flying away.