When you live somewhere long enough, it can be hard to escape your past. Every old haunt dredges up memories that prevent you from staying present. Singer-songwriter Christian Lee Hutson felt this way about his last two albums, which focused primarily on past experiences. “Spending too much time revisiting all these emotional landmarks ended up giving me the feeling that I was missing my life,” Hutson says. “Like it was passing me while I looked the other way.” After relocating from Los Angeles to New York, he aimed to give his third album, Paradise Pop. 10, a new sense of arrival.
Paradise Pop. 10 refers to a small town Hutson and his father would often visit and fantasize about moving to. The album notes prepare listeners to visit numerous places—the historic CC Club in Minneapolis, a Tom Stoppard play in San Francisco, a bowling alley in the Jersey Shore, and a 2003 Subaru where two dads consider kissing each other after a game of pickup basketball. Each place seems to have a different character rooted in his gentle tenor, tender lyrics, and beautiful acoustic guitar playing.
Recorded at Figure 8 studios in Brooklyn, the album has been touched by many decorated and up-and-coming hands, such as Phoebe Bridgers (four-time Grammy award winner), Marshall Vore (Grammy-nominated producer and songwriter), and Joseph Lorge (Grammy-nominated engineer and multi-instrumentalist). Singer-songwriter Maya Hawke co-wrote and sings harmony on “Carousel Horse”, which seems like a return the favor moment as Hutson was credited as producer and co-writer for her latest record.
The first track, “Tiger”, opens the album delicately with acoustic guitar; Hutson never raises his voice to a roar. The song possesses a repressed energy, a sense that he is holding back big emotions. When he sings, “Go get ’em, tiger,” his encouragement is weightless; it feels like Hutson or his protagonist could care less; either outcome will be miserable. As the song comes to a close, we hear audience applause, which, in conjunction with the lyric “a play within a play”, gives the feeling of watching a community production. But it’s more like a monologue: Christian Lee Hutson in all his honesty.
In contrast, the following track, “Carousel Horses”, is one of the few that get loud. At different points, the song sounds like it could have been a part of Jakob Dylan and the Wallflowers in the 1990s. Peppering the forceful instrumental is Hutson’s many wonderful vocal lines, the immediate one being: “You can identify trees just by looking at the leaves, but how could you know how I feel?” In effect, he says, “You think you know everything, but there is a lot more that goes on in this tortured cranium.” He finishes the piece with a crispy guitar solo that causes tension among its overzealous dissonant intervals. The solos that occur elsewhere are always more emotive than self-indulgent.
The following track, “Water Ballet”, is beautiful, masterfully orchestrated, and arranged with flute and acoustic guitar. Hutson’s hushed and non-threatening vocals evoke comparisons to other sensitive male singers who long-passed their heights, such as Sufjan Stevens, Bon Iver, and Iron and Wine. His fingerpicking on guitar is impressive, and the way he doubles melodies in guitar and voice produces a gorgeous timbre. The titular dance does an amazing job of describing how the music moves—it is graceful, intentional, and alluring. The traits contribute to making the song hypnotic and pleasing. It is a moment that suggests Hutson might very well be an underrated or overlooked talent.
Christian Lee Hutson can craft vocal lines that stick in your ear. The way he puts together phrases is clever such as in “Forever Immortalized”, where he sings, “Jock jams in a pickup truck, warm margarita in a dixie cup. “Flamingos”, featuring Phoebe Bridgers singing harmony, also has a memorable line: “Losers remember the people who have won, winners are never afraid to lose.” His lyrics evoke strong imagery as well, like in “After Hours”, where he shares a surreal depiction of the afterlife with mundane comforts: a diet coke fountain, no good Italian, and free shuffleboard in the main hall, billboards, 7-11s, and a lazy river that runs between the suburbs and the slums.
Across 11 tracks, Christian Lee Hutson keeps an introspective and calm mood with acoustic guitar and his soft-spoken singing. His voice has honesty and vulnerability, and the concentrated loudness comes from his sincerity and ability to channel that energy into melancholy. On top of that, the arrangements enhance the beauty of somberness. Paradise Pop. 10 is one of those subtle and more nuanced albums, likely causing it to slip under the radar, but Hutson places a firm step forward, affecting the strong sentiment that says: I have arrived.