Carmen Q. Rothwell
Photo: Courtesy of Ruination Record Co. via Bandcamp

Carmen Q. Rothwell Turns Catharsis Into Unique Art on ‘Don’t Get Comfy / Nowhere

The first solo album from experimental upright bassist and vocalist Carmen Q. Rothwell uses heartbreak and loss as emotional touchstones.

Don't Get Comfy / Nowhere
Carmen Q. Rothwell
Ruination Record Co.
6 August 2021

It’s easy – and perhaps a bit too lazy – to compare Don’t Get Comfy / Nowhere, the debut solo album from Carmen Q. Rothwell, to works by Björk and Joanna Newsom. The ethereal vocalizing on this stunning new album is somewhat reminiscent of the former’s 2004 a cappella opus Medulla, while Newsom’s genre-straddling, neoclassical approach certainly comes to mind on occasion here. But it’s hard to deny that Rothwell has created something essentially unclassifiable. There’s plenty of musical reference points to take away from the album, and taken as a whole, it’s a unique artistic statement.

Rothwell, who plays bass in the Brooklyn-based bands Scree, Citrene, VALES, and Tiny Hazard’s Alena Spanger, will likely surprise many listeners who know her strictly as a bassist. The EP-length cassette and digital download are inspired by the end of a romantic affair and the passing of Rothwell’s father after a long illness. The emotional pull is strong, and Rothwell’s arresting soprano pairs beautifully with her occasionally sparse bass playing, creating a mesmerizing, disarming experience.  “Don’t get comfy / Something is amiss,” Rothwell sings on the odd, playful opening track, which rolls along for several minutes in a manner that seems blissfully aimless as if she’s merely testing the waters. This kind of desultory recording style may be a misfire for lesser-talented artists, but for Rothwell, it’s sheer brilliance.

There’s also a lo-fi element to the music, as background noise becomes a subtle part of the sonic landscape. “Rest in peace / My seemingly undying affection for you / Won’t you please rest in peace,” Rothwell sings ever so delicately in “Blissful Ignore”, over nimble bass notes and what sounds like running water or a torrential downpour. There’s an odd clicking noise accompanying Rothwell’s nursery rhyme vocals in “Brain”, as she sings, almost matter-of-factly, “How do I get my brain to do what I want to do,” over and over, before multitracked vocals raise the song to a completely new level. The song can sound both completely improvised on a compositional level and beautifully meticulous from an arrangement perspective.

Elsewhere, some of the album’s moments are almost spookily sparse. “Poor Boy” and “Nowhere” strip everything down to solo, single-tracked vocals, and simple, rudimentary bass lines. The minor-key atmosphere of the songs is oddly haunting. Rothwell approaches something close to a conventional song on the closing track, “Will I Find”. It comes across as a bare-bones interpretation of a long-lost standard. “Will I find a way to say I love you too,” she sings. “If I don’t, will I regret it / Will there be another chance to let you know of all the good things I have forgotten?” The song’s utter simplicity and bare emotional charge pack an enormous punch, but it’s hardly exploitive heartstring-pulling.

Carmen Q. Rothwell has created a unique work of art that is relatively experimental in its structure but musically seductive enough to win fans of all stripes on this stunning, elegant closing track and the preceding five songs.  

RATING 8 / 10
RESOURCES AROUND THE WEB