On “The Trembling of Glass,” the Brooklyn electronic composer Rachika Nayar reconstructs a sample of her guitar until it resembles a cascade of piano keys. As the song progresses, endless variations of the sample emerge and collide like particles in an accelerator, assuming unexpected forms as they build towards clarity. The opening track from Nayar’s forthcoming debut album Our Hands Against the Dusk is a meditation on the potential of interpersonal touch.

Nayar’s plan to perform her work at New York City’s The Shed was delayed by COVID-19, but her calculated use of space and cinematic editing prevail over the temporary lack of visual accompaniment. “The Trembling of Glass” collapses into digital darkness, then slowly allows a wave of tender guitar chords to transform into stuttering glitches. When the track shifts shape one final time, casting off its ambient armor and retreating into the warmth of the unprocessed guitar melody from which it was formed, the abrupt change guides both eye and ear inward. Even as she playfully deflates the sentimental mood by closing the track with a gratifyingly off-time thump of guitar strings—the kind of nervous performer’s tic you’d expect at a live show—Nayar sits confidently in the director’s chair, drawing us closer with the nervous hope of sharing space once again.