REVIEW this music+nightlife

Caroline Rose, The Art of Forgetting

(NEW WEST, CD, DIGITAL, VINYL)

There’s nothing so disquieting as the doom of an impending breakup. You feel it coming like a thunderstorm and brace for the new reality: They don’t want me anymore. When will they tell me? Please direct me to the nearest cli .

Defeatism and depression are unavoidable pit stops on Highway Heartbreak. But beyond them can be an opportunity to experience or create something beautiful, like Caroline Rose did with their fifth LP, The Art of Forgetting. Reeling from a relationship’s end and, according to press materials, other di cult events, the Austin, Texas-based former Burlingtonian gets more confessional than they’ve ever been. The record is also their most inventive and boundary-pushing — and by far their longest, at just over 50 minutes.

Rose has become something of a queer icon in recent years, amassing a loyal fan base of fringy LGBTQ listeners. The music video trilogy that accompanies the album is as gay as it gets. Rose and a lover, played by model-actress Massima Bell, have a whirlwind (and toxic?) romance in Part 1, “Miami.” Su ce it to say, things do not go well. Spoiler alert: Rose ends up sad-masturbating on a dingy motel bed. It’s tragic and oh-so-relatable for anyone who’s ever been abandoned mid-fling.

The Art of Forgetting is an enriching and satisfying listen, and it continues the artist’s push into the experimental rock and pop seen on 2020’s Superstar The new album’s production and subject matter are full of exploration. Rose searches for answers, mostly inside themself. For instance, the baroque-pop tune “Jill Says” analyzes bits and pieces seemingly pulled from therapy sessions. (Fun fact: Rose’s therapist is actually named Jill.)

As producer and primary instrumentalist on the new LP, Rose employs as much studio magic as they do good ol’ fashioned musicianship. They play guitar, ukulele, tiple, all manner of keys, percussion and some bass. Pretty much the only building block they don’t seem to do themself is drumming, leaving that to collaborators Riley Geare, James McAlister and Mike Dondero.

2018’s Loner and 2020’s Superstar were a narrative diptych. As Rose told Seven Days in a 2020 interview published mere days before the pandemic’s onset, “I wanted [ Superstar ] to feel kind of like a sequel [to Loner ], where you had this loner or loser character who decides that they’re destined to become a big star.”

Both records circled serious themes of anxiety, sexual harassment, social pressure, self-destructive behavior and depression. But Loner was full of musical whimsy (see the curlicue ri s on “Money”), and Superstar kept its head above water with spry production techniques (see the wonky electro warble of “Command Z”). And the themes seemed universal, written for the listener to ascribe them to their own experiences as much as the artist’s.

In contrast, the lyrics on The Art of Forgetting are deeply personal to Rose and jibe more with the album’s musical architecture — though not always. Sometimes Rose opts for contrast between dark themes and bright composition.

And they’re still the queen of “wrhymes,” a portmanteau of “wry” and “rhymes” I just invented. A perfect example: “Shu e the cards / But it’s all the same / Cuz only the jokers get to play this game,” they sing on climactic closer “Where Do I Go From Here?”

One of the album’s biggest changes, or perhaps advances, is the way Rose sings. Frequently hushed and meek, it’s a big change from their usual spiky blare. Odyssean ballads and an emphasis on misty, synthforward atmospherics are new developments in the Rose canon, too.

Mostly, we hear confessions that might be hard to stomach if Rose were your child or friend. The elegiac opener “Love / Lover / Friend” sets up the album’s placid register. Rose’s words are vapors that float over a rippling ether.

The tone brightens somewhat on subsequent cut “Rebirth.” Its clattering, syncopated beats convey turmoil and percolation as we hear defeat become renewal: “I crawl into a black hole / Curl up like a baby and lay down to rest / I wake, I wake with a bang.”

The album touches on some of the classic stages of grief. “I just wanna lay here / In this bed forever / Just me and my dreams / Alone in my head together / Where everything is comfort / And everything is warm,” they sing on the contrastingly peppy “Everywhere I Go I Bring the Rain.” A sonic remedy for the depression heard in the lyrics, the song’s brightly strummed guitars shimmer under Rose’s fingers as a whoosh of spring-rain synths glisten around them.

And “Stockholm Syndrome” is a lo-fi, bedroom-pop bargaining song. “I just wanna write a song / That keeps you in my arms forever,” Rose sings on a track that’s as soft and loving as it is slightly threatening.

The Art of Forgetting is a reaction and remedy to a specific time in the artist’s life. But it feels decidedly incomplete. When the final moments of closer “Where Do I Go From Here?” evaporate in a soft hum, Rose all but admits they have no idea what will come next.

And that seems like a great place to be. Much better than a black hole.

The Art of Forgetting will be available on Friday, March 24, at carolinerosemusic.bandcamp.com and all major streaming platforms. Rose performs on Tuesday and Wednesday, April 4 and 5, at the Higher Ground Ballroom in South Burlington, with support from frequent collaborator and local artist Hammydown.

JORDAN ADAMS