Farbod Biglari’s latest single, Waltz for Baran (The Rain Waltz), is not just a song—it’s a cinematic immersion into the heart of nostalgia, memory, and emotion. Released on June 16, 2025, this exquisite composition from the Vancouver-based composer is a testament to music’s power to evoke beauty from melancholy and elegance from introspection. It’s a dance in the rain with one’s own soul, and it arrives like a soft thunderclap—quiet, but impossible to ignore.

From the first note, Waltz for Baran feels like a scene from a long-lost film. Orchestrated in collaboration with the gifted Maria Duque, the piece unfolds like a memory you didn’t know you had. Every harmonic progression seems to tug at something familiar, yet distant—like a faded photograph or a long-forgotten letter rediscovered in an old drawer. Duque’s arrangement brings depth and dynamism to Biglari’s original idea, turning a solo melody into a sweeping emotional landscape.
Though the release is new, the seed of this piece was planted long ago. Biglari, who began playing guitar in his early teens, first sketched the gentle motif that would become Waltz for Baran years ago, unaware that the simple tune would later blossom into such an emotionally rich work. That long gestation period imbues the track with a sense of timelessness—it feels as if it’s been waiting all this time, patiently, to find its full voice.
One of the most moving aspects of the piece is how it walks the line between classical grace and cinematic storytelling. You can hear the influence of legendary Italian composer Stelvio Cipriani in the delicate phrasing and orchestral elegance. Yet there’s also something unmistakably modern and personal about it—this isn’t just homage, it’s a reinvention. The textures float between traditional waltz form and an almost ambient, film-score sensibility. It’s music that tells a story, but leaves enough space for the listener to fill in their own.
In fact, Waltz for Baran doesn’t just tell a story. It tells your story—whoever you are, wherever you are. It’s that rare kind of instrumental track that seems to know how you’re feeling before you do. It brings comfort to grief, clarity to confusion, and poetry to the mundane. Perhaps that’s why its title, referring to “Baran” (the Persian word for “rain”), is so fitting. Rain, like music, has a way of making everything feel more alive—even sadness. And just like rain, the music falls gently, never overwhelming, soaking into the corners of your mind with each listen.
Farbod Biglari isn’t the kind of artist chasing viral fame or algorithmic attention. His music is slower, deeper, more considered. He crafts pieces like a painter with watercolors—layer by layer, light and shadow, never rushed. With Waltz for Baran, he invites listeners into his world with an open hand and a generous heart. And while the composition is clearly rooted in classical technique, its emotional accessibility makes it universally resonant.
Maria Duque’s role cannot be understated either. Her arranging skills bring out the best in Biglari’s melodies, introducing layers of string harmonies, subtle percussion, and orchestrated depth that elevate the piece beyond a solo endeavor. Together, they’ve created something greater than the sum of its parts—an intimate collaboration that feels both refined and emotionally raw.
This single is not just a highlight in Biglari’s career—it’s a signpost for where he’s headed. As the music world increasingly fragments into fast-paced trends and sonic gimmicks, artists like Farbod Biglari are quietly preserving the soul of musical storytelling. Waltz for Baran doesn’t shout to be heard; it waits for you to lean in and listen—and when you do, it rewards you with depth, serenity, and something that lingers long after the final note fades.
As Waltz for Baran continues to reach new ears beyond its June release, it’s quickly becoming clear that Farbod Biglari is not just a composer to watch—he’s one to be cherished. In a world that often feels too loud and too fast, his music is a slow dance in the rain. And we need it now more than ever.