Nova Scotia-raised, Ottawa-based singer-songwriter Malia Rogers returns with “Sunlight (A Good Death),” a healing, Celtic-influenced folk single that approaches loss through the lens of gratitude rather than despair. Rooted in the idea that grief is simply love with nowhere left to go, the song reflects on mourning not as an ending, but as evidence of a life deeply shared.

Written while on tour in Ireland in January 2025, the song arrived unexpectedly. After a late night following a show in Tramore on Ireland’s southeastern coast, Rogers woke suddenly at 7:15AM; the exact date and time her grandfather, John Matthews, had passed away four years earlier. A paleoentomologist, teacher, poet, and lifelong music lover, Matthews played a defining role in Rogers’ life and creative development. “We talked about everything, including death and what it might mean to die ‘well,’” she explains. “I cried for two hours alone in that room above the pub, and when I was done, I had this song. It’s a small gift in return for the countless gifts he brought to all who knew him.”

What can you share with readers about your new project?
“Sunlight (A Good Death)” is a song for anyone whose loved ones live on inside them even after they’re gone from the physical world. It’s a song about loss, but it’s not a sad song: it’s a recognition of the beautiful fact that grief is just love with nowhere to go, and it’s a celebration of the courage it takes to love each other even when we know that love will eventually yield to loss of some kind.

How does this release compare with your other projects you had in the past?
Most of the music I’ve released so far has been based in my personal experience and tries to translate that experience more universally, but I’ve noticed in my live shows that nothing has connected quite like this: people come up to me after this song and tell me about their loved ones. People I don’t know have been sending me messages about their experiences of loss in response to hearing this song. It’s really profoundly beautiful that there are others out there willing to connect over the challenging and sometimes stigmatized topic of mortality, and I’m glad I can help support that through my music.

What about this single makes you most proud?
There’s so much I love about how “Sunlight (A Good Death)” turned out, but to name one thing, I’m so proud of the trad-folk breakdown. I’ve fallen in love with Irish traditional music over the course of my adult life, and it’s something my grandfather John, who this song commemorates, also loved. In a song where I specifically name The Chieftains and The Bothy Band in my lyrics, it felt totally aligned to bring in some of that Irish trad instrumentation. I composed a trad ‘tune’ to go over the bridge/breakdown and brought on some incredible instrumentalists to make it come alive. I love the way it moves from such intimacy into a tidal wave of whistle, accordion, fiddle, gang vocals, Irish bouzouki, guitars, and percussion. That part feels really cathartic to me.

Was there a specific goal you were trying to accomplish with this release?
I wanted to create something that captured the dynamism of grief—it comes and goes in waves, it layers into other parts of your life in surprising ways—and something that balances the heaviness of loss with the lightness and joy of love. I wanted to create something that felt like it should be sung communally, in a common place, in a full room, because I personally feel like these complex feelings should be shared and that we will all be better for the sharing of it. I held a release party last week where I played this live and then hosted a grief-and-love themed open stage after. It was an experiment for me, but it turned out more beautifully than I could have ever expected, because the people in that room were so on board with the idea that grief doesn’t have to be lonely.

What inspires you to create music? What motivates you to keep going?
I’m consistently inspired by the sense of interconnectedness that comes with ‘letting your guard down’. That’s what I try to do in my music—be the first person in the room to drop the shield—and I find it gives others permission to do the same. It’s rewarding to connect on a deeper human level because of that. That feeling of being part of something bigger than yourself motivates me. I also find so much joy in discovery: new instruments, new artists, new perspectives, new collaborators. I love feeling just a tiny bit out of my depth and being pushed to keep growing as an artist.

If you could collaborate with anyone – dead or alive, famous or unknown – who would it be and why?
There are so many people I dream of collaborating with, but today I’ll say Hozier. One of my all-time favourite artists and songwriters, but also someone who from all accounts seems to be limitlessly kind, compassionate, and emotionally intelligent. Those qualities are more important to me in a collaborator than almost anything else.

What was the last song you listened to? Favorite all-time bands/artists?
Over the last week, I’ve had “Best Love In The Universe” by Maggie Rigby on repeat (expletive warning right off the top—don’t let that deter you!).
All-time favourites include:

• The Oh Hellos, The Lumineers, Phoebe Bridgers, Rose Cousins, Florence & The Machine, Boygenius, Feist, The Staves, Tallest Man On Earth.
  I also have a playlist of some of the songs that inspired Sunlight.

Where is the best place to find you and stay connected?
I’m pretty consistently on Instagram (@maliarogers_), but I also have a tiny mailing list where readers basically get a journal entry from me once a month or so, as well as first tabs on shows, new releases, giveaways, etc. You can sign up here.

I really appreciate your time. Is there anything you’d like to share before we sign off?
I’m putting together a participatory music video for Sunlight and inviting people to submit footage of their loved ones. If this goes out before March 17, people can contribute using this Google Form, but if it goes out after then, you’ll be able to watch the music video on my YouTube as of March 20. 🙂