Caroline Rose Practices The Art of Forgetting on Fifth LP

The Art of Forgetting cover, shot in Rose's Austin backyard in a set recreating their living room (photo by Monica Murray / Editing by Sam Bennett)

When it came to crafting their new record, pop songster Caroline Rose had one crucial rule: no suits. In tune with many other artists, the freefall of the pandemic allowed Rose to take on a freeform, deadline-detached recording process. The artist compressed their sharply self-produced solo experimentation in their Austin home studio, devoid of pressure from financial interests.

"I threw all that out the window on this album, and it's a better album because of it," says Rose, calling from a coffee shop in Vermont, where they spent time with friends ahead of the album release. "Now I'm never gonna involve any suit ever again in the albummaking process."

Their previous record, Superstar, was released just days before the pandemic shut down live music across the country. The singer/guitarist and their band had just kicked off a tour, and after heading back home to Austin, the business of being Caroline Rose took the back seat. In the midst of global turmoil and a stalled album promotion, Rose endured a harrowing breakup.

The singer-songwriter began to write, but not with song material in mind. A new record was not the goal, but to simply tap in and process the swirl of macro and micro issues at hand. The result, The Art of Forgetting, is by far their most confessional and emotionally enrapturing work to date.

The self-awarely manufactured, glossy pop image Rose is known for falls to pieces on their fifth studio album, continuing work with New West Records. Clarifying past indie rock distortion and often slowing to mid-tempo, the LP prioritizes emotional rawness and a sense of fragmentation. It's a new manner of writing for Rose, who acknowledges the vulnerability involved in airing out one's troubles for a wider audience.

"When you're writing something for yourself, it's really cathartic and it's great to get it off your chest," Rose says. "But when it goes public and everyone has access to it, it's absolutely terrifying. I flip-flop between being really proud of myself and feeling like I'm being really courageous, and then other times I'm like, 'I'm psychotic and masochistic, and this was insane and I deeply regret it.'

"At this particular moment in time, I'm proud of it."

In line with this greater sense of creative freedom, Rose finally pieced together a long-dreamed short film for the album. The three-parter, divided into videos for "Miami," "Tell Me What You Want," and a to-be-announced third track, charts the singer's own varying experiences in recurring locations. Directed by Rose's close friend Samuel Aaron Bennett – at South Congress' Austin Motel and Sagebrush, as well as ATX Film Studios – the short ebbs and flows as Rose wanders through scenes pulled from their own time spent at the local haunts.

Rose says the Technicolor Austin Motel has been the stage for pivotal life events. "I just end up there a lot," the artist says. "Even before I moved to Austin, fate just brought me there."

Differing looks at memory in the short film tie into The Art of Forgetting's reflection on a fluctuating relationship to the past. During the writing process, Rose spoke often with their grandmother, whose voicemails are heard many times throughout the album. Rose witnessed their loved one lose memories and grapple with a lifetime fading away.

All the while, they cast many painful memories away out of self-preservation. These different insights (inspired by reading Bessel van der Kolk's The Body Keeps the Score) informed not only the record but Rose's own way of processing grief. The LP title, pulled from a line in "Miami," began to transform from something rooted in frustration and dejection into an empowering position for healing.

"The art of forgetting is a healthy letting go: learning how to let go of things that are damaging to you in order to move on and create new memories," Rose says.

When piecing together the record from their home studio, Rose prioritized acoustic instruments and tape recordings to foster a sense of decay. Tying in with the theme of fading memory, Rose toyed with granular synthesis – taking singular sonic stamps and chopping them to bits, or smearing the sound. Altering the acoustic instrumentation digitally allowed them to achieve a sense of dissociation.

As opposed to the hyperstylized pop of Superstar, The Art of Forgetting chases emotional catharsis, reflection, and intimacy. Catchy hooks make way for slow, dramatic builds, and trademark humor dissolves as melancholy fills the spaces of the meditative record. When seeking a moment to pause, Rose spends time in the yard of their South Austin home.

"I have such a great little spot. I rent this place that has the most beautiful live oak tree in the yard," Rose says. "Laying under that live oak in the hammock is my favorite thing in the world. The trees in Austin are so special."

All of the heartache, pining, and grief at the top of The Art of Forgetting eventually allow for newfound hope and resilience. The heartrending years culminate in the final line of the listful, open-ended "Where Do I Go From Here?": "Now go out and start living the rest of your life."