Hit the jackpot, baby! Quitzow, Art College

As I stated in my Setting Sun review, I feel kind of weird reviewing the work of a friend. Objectivity comes into question, slapping the album with a bad review could hurt their feelings and they never want to talk to you again, and so on. But, I am extremely fortunate since I have been presented with a pair of genuinely outstanding albums with which to work.

When I first saw Erica Quitzow play, I believe she was using an acoustic guitar. As such, I was rather surprised to hear the amount of electronics on her recorded material since I had already associated her with acoustic. No matter, since she’s damn good either way.

Art College is synth-heavy, quirky electro-trip-pop-hop-skip-something-or-other… Goddamnit I can’t describe it using conventional pigeonholing terminology; it’s just FUN. Do you know what FUN is? Art College is FUN. The addition of cello on select tracks helps to make this difficult to definitively label. To be completely honest, I don’t think I ever loved Moog synthesizers as much as I do now until after I heard Erica play them. Now I want one (I can has Voyager in Electric Blue?). Thumping beats beg for dancing. Remember my review of Accelerate, how I said, “I want to be thrilled, moved, or have the chair pulled out from under my chunky buttocks so I am forced to dance”? This fits into the first and last^* categories.

Swinging from the serious to the absurd is a talent Quitzow seems to have a monopoly on. But even when Erica is being somber in her lyrics, the instrumentation is still danceable fun. Art College begins out on a serious note with “Sponsor (It Didn’t Mean A Thing)” and the social criticism of “On TV!,” only to immediately jump to the completely silly, always standing out, good-times anthem “Peanut.” Then, the title track jumps back to a more foreboding ambiance, but with a certain hope and determination (this one is most likely my favorite). The warning “Stay Away From John” is another favorite. “Love” stands out as the quietest piece, consisting of just cello, a subdued keyboard, and voice. “Cats R People 2” is another jovial piece seamlessly sewn into much more intense songs; got to love the sampled cat meowing. “Jackpot” is an excellent closing track; we can only hope that Art College is Quitzow’s jackpot and ticket to some measure of fame.

The word that most accurately describes the album art is “pink.” Laura Pepitone is to thank for that; the cover image of some structure (a gas station maybe? I’m not sure) is stylishly applied to a canvas made of the sort of paint samples used for color matching when you’re repainting your house. The result is a grainy yet bright, dreamy, almost sand-storm like image that pairs well with the contents of the CD. I also love the little black and white pictures from assorted sources that are under the CD tray, including images of Dr. Strangelove, a close-up of Dalí’s mustache, and what I believe to be Hunter S. Thompson.

There’s something either quirkily seductive or seductively quirky about Art College. Like Children of the Wild, it’s infectiously fun with its ups-and-downs, but swinging to the opposite direction in that it’s electronic-heavy and much more intense where Children of the Wild was more acoustic-based and relaxed. Art College is floating around the moons of Jupiter, while Children of the Wild is solidly on the ground (with a few exceptions). Also of note for those that like live performances, or weren’t crazy about what they’ve heard online, Quitzow in concert is a horse of a completely different color. I highly recommend catching the show. One of the things I look forward to in the future is a live album.

I don’t think I can express it any other way: get this album. It’s simply enjoyable throughout and a worthwhile addition to your collection. This will be an album that makes its mark on the world of contemporary music, may it be a big mark. I drink to your jackpot, Erica. Raise that glass high.



Quitzow’s myspace, and Young Love Records’ myspace and website


^*Facetious remark; I don’t dance. Unless you get a lot of booze in me. I mean a LOT.