Singer-songwriter Lawrence Rothman talks new album, battles with mental health and hate
Singer, songwriter Lawrence Rothman sat in a historic cabin in Nashville, one once inhabited by Leonard Cohen in the '60s, and wrote their third album, the reflective and vulnerable "The Plow That Broke the Plains."
Rothman, a nonbinary indie singer, brings listeners along on some of their darkest moments, vocalizing wake up calls and working through trauma. The 13-song collection features Rothman's rich, deep voice, simple Americana melodies mixed with rock 'n' roll riffs, and transportive, raw lyrics.
Rothman's lyrical powers are the core of their new album, which features collaborations with Amanda Shires, Jason Isbell and S.G. Goodman.
Rothman sat down with The Tennessean to discuss writing their new album and the stories behind the songs.
Nashville's influence and writing a new album
"I came down to Nashville and went to a studio called Alex the Great when I was 14 years old. That was my first recording session I ever did," said Rothman, who is now 41.
"I remember the producer who owned it (Robin Eaton), he made me a CD of Big Star and Townes Van Zandt and old Johnny Cash."
Rothman said that they hadn't heard a lot of the songs on the CD before — John Prine, Lucinda Williams, Guy Clark, Todd Snider, Billy Joe Shaver.
"I think (it really got) into my songwriting," Rothman said.
They've felt the Nashville influence in their music ever since. And though they spend much of their time in Los Angeles, they wrote every song on the record, with the exception of one, in an old cabin in Nashville. The cabin holds history.
"The rumors are correct," Rothman said. "I guess at one point, Leonard Cohen had lived there."
Rothman was living in the cabin and writing for the new record when they experienced a severe health scare. They went to the emergency room, suffering from internal hemorrhaging. At the time, they had been battling life-threatening anorexia for two years.
"It was pretty traumatic experience," Rothman said.
"And the next day I decided I needed to go back to L.A. and sort of straighten myself out and got on a plane. I came up with the song 'LAX' and then when I landed I pretty much finished it."
Shortly after writing the song in mid-air, Rothman recorded "LAX" at a studio in L.A., featuring Shires.
The song captures Rothman's health scare and the ability of eating disorders to erode who you once were. In the remarkably honest song, listeners feel like they have been allowed inside Rothman's diary.
On the bridge, Rothman sings: "I saw my face in that airport bathroom mirror / And I didn't recognize myself or what I had become / Just skeletal remains of who I used to be / That scared me straight out of the hell that I'd been running from."
The song is layered with acoustic guitar, cello and a swaying melody. On the chorus, Shires and Rothman harmonize: "I don't want to be your LAX."
Rothman creates 'Poster Child,' processes bias attack
Another runaway song on the album is Rothman and Isbell's "Poster Child." The two co-wrote the tune and Isbell plays guitar on the recording.
The song reflects on an attack against Rothman outside of a Dallas club in 2007. Rothman, who identifies as genderfluid, had just played a gig and was dressed in makeup and a "style of clothes that I guess some random audience members did not like," they said.
They were jumped and shot at after the gig.
"I have to say I'm a pretty strong character; I can put up with a lot," Rothman said. "When you hear bullets right near your ear, it changes you."
Rothman had always processed the attack in their own way — never putting pen to paper to capture it in lyric form.
When they met up with friend Isbell to write a song for the new record, Isbell asked, "What's something that you've always shied away from writing about?"
"And I told him this. And he's like, 'Well, that's the song we're writing.'"
The two wrote the song in an hour and a half. It's a rumbling rock 'n' roll track with grungy guitar and an unsettling suspense that builds and gnaws on the listener. It's dissonant and complicated, just like the song's lyrics.
The song discusses becoming the "poster child' for tragedy, cashing it in for notoriety or artistic inspiration.
Rothman sings: "I got jumped outside the three of clubs, showered bullets across my ear drum, can we use that? ...
"We can use that / We can cash in your ghost / We can do that / Call the Washington Post / If we move fast / Sell them a share of your heart."
Breaking free from societal constraints
Before "Poster Child" and "LAX," Rothman starts the album with "Yesterday, Tomorrow," a track that vocalizes breaking free from the constraints of societal norms and embracing the fluidity of time and identity.
The album's first song acts as a through line for the whole record.
"It's easy to feel nostalgic to a time when you felt safe and happy, which is what some of these songs are about," they said, reflecting on their small-town upbringing.
"Being brought up in Missouri is a very safe and happy and suburban life, and then you get thrown out to the real world and you have to deal with a lot of things right," Rothman said.
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Rothman added, though, that nostalgia can hinder progress. They turned 40 and had a wakeup call.
Now, for them, it's about surrounding oneself with a rock-solid support system and striving to stay positive, not just living in the "safe and happy" past.
"Universally, everybody clings to things that they ... liked about the past," they said.
"And sometimes those things that we liked about the past aren't really actually good for pushing contemporary culture forward. That's pretty much the theme of the entire album."
On the album's final song, "No Vacancy," Rothman captures that move away from nostalgia and shift into moving forward. They sing: "Ever wake up somewhere you thought you'd been / To realize everything you wanted you had / My heart full of other songs and ash / Gonna clean up and grow on right back."
This article originally appeared on Nashville Tennessean: Lawrence Rothman talks album release, 'The Plow That Broke the Plains'