Review: Christian Lee Hutson’s “Quitters”
cover art for Christian Lee Hutson’s sophomore record Quitters, courtesy of ANTI- Records
by Soren Rose ‘22
Christian Lee Hutson’s first album, Beginners, was a pivotal listen for me during the early months of the COVID-19 pandemic. Now Hutson is back with a sophomoric full length album, Quitters. I’ve listened to it a couple of times now, as it was released on April 1st, and I have plenty of thoughts.
Hutson’s careful lyricism that focuses on finding the poetry in concrete, everyday images is one of the defining elements of his music, just as it was on Beginners. I originally fell in love with Hutson because of the track “Northsiders,” with lyrics like “We were so pretentious then/ Didn't trust the government/ Said that we were communists/ And thought that we invented it/ Morrissey apologists/ Amateur psychologists/ Serial monogamists.” It provided critical but indulgent reflections on how obnoxious and self absorbed young teenagers can be, and how absolutely delicious it is to indulge in your own importance as your horizons are broadening. I really saw myself and my friend group in this song, and wouldn’t stop adding it to the sad playlists I made when I was missing college after Wellesley sent us home.
In Quitters, Hutson is no longer speaking to an undergraduate audience as much, even in a nostalgic way, but I don’t mind, as I’m ending my undergraduate career in a scarily short number of weeks. These more mature songs are still constructed like conversations, prominently featuring Second Person, with the lyrics functioning as what one person is saying, while the addressee’s voice is obscured. I really see the way he addresses the “you” in his songs as a place where you can strongly see Phoebe Bridger’s influence on his music, as this is a lyrical quirk she is stereotypically known for.
“Age Difference” is a favorite from the album, even though it is musically similar to the other tracks. The song’s title contributes to a sort of sinister mood, and we aren’t supposed to relate to or sympathize with the singer of this track, as it tells us outright at the beginning that the relationship between the speaker and their lover has an age gap. Lyrics like “Hiding out in nice apartments, Catholic schoolgirl uniforms,/ I think I was suicidal before you were even born” and “You think you should take care of me, that makes me want to let you/ You put up with my tantrums, I’m the only one that gets you” hammer this home. That being said, the little details of what the couple is doing together, and their conversations, like, ““I’d Do Anything for Love” is a response to “Tiny Dancer”/Hummingbirds can beat their wings 50,000 times a minute,” that are carefully woven into the story, are nearly impossible to avoid romanticizing, even though Hutson is telling you that you shouldn’t. This complexity adds richness and makes me want to sit for a while with the narrative of this particular song.
I also really like “OCDemon,” a song where the characters are some sort of police officer and someone who’s committed some sort of horrible crime. They aren’t really supposed to be people you relate to, but you can’t help but to see yourself in them. I was really struck by the guilt and anxiety in the lines “I’m not safe around people/ I have always been evil.”
Hutson’s instrumentals are subdued in most tracks, which really allow his plaintive vocals and the actual turns of phrases he uses to be heard very clearly. Lines like “Pain is a way that you move through time,” from “Strawberry Lemonade,” and “Every connection is exactly alike/ One is the moon and one is the tide” from “Cherry,” are poignant, striking observations about the mundanity and simultaneous beauty of the ending of relationships. I also intensely relate to “I’m sorry for always feeling the need to apologize/ But I always feel like I’m a big inconvenience and hope I’m not right/ Maybe I’m not right,” in “Black Cat.”
I like it when a song sounds different from the others. He has a very distinctive sound that most of his music doesn’t stray from, but when they do, it makes them really stand out. “State Bird” does this well with the non-musical, non-diegetic voices in the middle and end of the song, and the ramp up to the percussion at the end. “Black Cat” and “Creature Feature” are also interesting. In “Black Cat,” the violin, the plaintive tone of the lyrics, and the way the instrumentals are mixed and slightly distorted all make the song sound old fashioned, like it could be in the soundtrack of a movie from the 60s, but it works. “Creature Feature” prominently features a static effect throughout the song
It’s also always a treat to hear Phoebe Bridgers’ vocals come in on tracks and albums she’s playing the producer role for, as they do in “Strawberry Lemonade” and “Rubberneckers.” It’s a cheap ploy for me to mention her here though; while I know the WZLY audience is always thirsting for more Phoebe, I hope that you listen to Hutson on his own merits. Don’t play this album at any sort of social event, though—I tried listening to it on a weekend trip with some of my friends and we all agreed it was a party killer.
