Carmel Smickersgill released one of my very favorite songs from 2022, the remarkable “Questioning,” which was all heavily processed child-like vocals and spiraling, shimmering synths put to stunning effect. She released it as part of a short EP titled We Get What We and We Don’t Get Upset and as the years ticked by I was starting to think she meant it. Even so, with a song as powerful as “Questioning” under her belt, Smickersgill certainly didn’t “owe” listeners anything and so, when she dropped this new EP I was actually more nervous than anything else. How could she possibly follow up a song that I’ve been moving up the list of favorite songs of all time with each passing year?
I needn't have worried. With the 20-minute Unsolicited Advice, Smickersgill showcases not only her incredible talent and musical chops but also her seemingly boundless vision and ambition. Functioning as something of a concept album, each track takes its title from those cliche bits of “wisdom” that pass as advice from those who rarely truly understand the unique challenges of any given situation to a person–at least with any understanding as to the true nature of said difficulties. Thus, I think the overall minor-key tone of nearly the entire enterprise, communicating her ambivalence–if not outright hostility–towards the hollowness of these style of platitudes in the face of real suffering.
“Have Faith,” starts in forward motion, a pummeling beat over distraught vocal samples. Soon, what sounds like a hopeful flute tries to break through, only to be immediately countered by a rising wall of static. The two elements sonically duke it out for several bars, before melding together into something a bit more emotionally ambiguous as the beat kicks into high gear and everything races towards a galvanizing key-change. In the second half a warbling vocal fights to gain a toehold over the now-distinctly overwhelming and minor-key synth washes and beats. Smickersgill then allows her own voice to come fully into focus, though just under enough digital water to not quite be able to make out the words. Something about “ours to make” or “ours to take.” Regardless, the complexity of the song and its final moments, without clear resolution, demonstrate the ultimate, let’s say ambivalence towards that most meaningless of advice: to “have faith.”
While not a fully-sung album, she certainly deploys more lyrics than in her previous project. Mixing lyrics with experimental electronic compositions can prove problematic but here Smickersgill shows just as deft a touch as with every other element here. Mostly used as texture, when the lyrics do stand out, it’s often because of the mantra-like nature with which they’re deployed. “Build the Habit,” repeats its own advice endlessly, to the point where it either takes root or washes away (much like habits themselves, the song seems to suggest). In “Know You’re Loved” she avoids even stating the titular phrase, but instead repeats a series of interlocking imperative declarations “feel my arms they’re wrapped around you, I will hold you in this embrace until you, feel my arms they’re wrapped around you…”
The penultimate track, “Let It Happen” is the most ethereal song of the bunch and the one with lyrics that tell the most consistent story, of leaving a note in a certain bench in a curiously empty airport. The liminal space she invokes with her words are complimented by cavernous blips and bloops, floating into a dark nothingness. Perhaps recognizing that the name of the song itself the most ineffectual bit of advice presented here.
And then we come to the final track and easily the most upbeat and transcendent of the lot with “Suck Don’t Sip.” Notably absent of any detectable vocal samples and positively radiant by the time the swirling synths lock in for the back half against galloping, energetic percussion, it certainly implies that this particular bit of advice, that to hedonistically suck and not sip is the only real bit of wisdom that can bring true joy.
With that, the thesis of this EP comes full circle and we’re left to contemplate (what should be) our own ambivalent feelings of passing along received bits of wisdom that ultimately are of little to no utility (how many times have you heard the “everything happens for a reason” claptrap?). Beyond that, with the thrilling ending suggesting that maybe, just maybe, encouraging others to seek their passions is the only real worthwhile advice you can give someone.