Christian Lee Hutson recorded so many versions of his new album, Beginners, that the day before it was finally released last month, the singer-songwriter joked with his friends about a dark possibility: “There’s still time to record it one more time.”
Hutson, 29, first began work on his new plaintive folk collection in 2014, back when he was still touring the country as an aspiring retro-country singer, performing Gram Parsons and George Jones covers at an endless string of what he now refers to as “fucking spaghetti restaurants.”
Today, Hutson is an integral new voice in the extended collective of fast-rising twenty-something L.A. singer-songwriters helmed by Phoebe Bridgers, who produced the fourth — and, fortunately, final — version of Hutson’s new LP. (Others may know him for helping solve a musical mystery in a recent viral episode of the Reply All podcast about a forgotten alt-rock radio hit from the Nineties.)
In the past few years, Hutson has also become an in-demand touring guitarist, playing with Jenny Lewis as well as Bridgers’ and Conor Oberst’s group Better Oblivion Community Center. Hutson is still amazed by the opportunity — Rilo Kiley and Bright Eyes are among his teenage favorites — and in general seems pleasantly perplexed as to how he’s gotten such gigs. Before Lewis hired him, he had never toured as a backing musician. “That was very weird,” he says. “I didn’t even own an electric guitar.”
Hutson’s recent SoCal success has come only after he spent the better part of a decade trying to build up enough self-confidence to convince himself that anyone would ever want to hear what he had to say.
“I just never imagined, really, that I could be taken seriously just by having good songs,” he says, by way of explanation for the years he spent trying to present himself as a hard-living Southern-influenced troubadour in the vein of Justin Townes Earle. “When you want to write songs, you look for different archetypes that you can imitate on your way to figuring out who you are. I had a weird kick of a fake accent. I just really was not confident at all, and thought that all these other things had to legitimize what I was doing.”
The perceived rural authenticity of singers like Gillian Welch, another one of Hutson’s early influences, reaffirmed his genre convictions. “Listening to her songs made me feel like, ‘No, my voice isn’t valuable in the shitty California voice that I have,'” he recalls. “When you grow up in Santa Monica, you don’t ever imagine that people would want to hear how anyone from there [sounds].” (What Hutson didn’t realize at the time is that Welch, too, grew up in Los Angeles.)
By the middle of last decade, he was still searching for a voice of his own. “Christian Lee Hutson is a work in progress,” reads a description from Trailer Fire Records, the indie label that released Hutson’s barely heard album Yeah Okay, I Know in 2014. “Whoever the gallantly self-defeating 24-year-old singer-songwriter is, he’s an amalgamation of a long line of Americana tradition.”
After discouraging stints in Nashville and New York, Hutson returned to L.A., unsure if he should give up on his dream of singing his own songs for a living. Then, in 2015, he met Dash Hutton, a former drummer in Haim (and the son of Three Dog Night’s Danny Hutton). Hutton had direct access to a studio and was well-connected, and he soon helped Hutson to record the first version of what would end up becoming Beginners.
Hutson spent a full five years recording, and then continuously re-recording, the album. The list of collaborators from that time reads like a who’s-who of mid-aughts L.A. singer-songwriters. For the first, Hutton-assisted attempt, Hutson was backed by Dawes; the third attempt was with Ethan Gruska, who’s worked with Blake Mills and Fiona Apple. “I truthfully just did not have the confidence in arranging things,” Hutson says.
None of the recordings felt right until he met Bridgers, who immediately bonded with him about their love for sparse recording. “I remember having a good talk [with her] about how our favorite versions of all our favorite songs in history end up being these sparse live versions,” he says.
Daniel Prakopcyk for Rolling Stone
One approach that helped Hutson feel more comfortable in his own voice was inspired by his hero Elliott Smith’s most identifiable studio trick: double-tracked vocals, a technique in which a singer layers two separate vocal takes together to add depth and richness to the recording. “I have to sing the song very matter-of-factly in order to do it again in the same way, so for me it makes me sound more relaxed and more myself,” says Hutson. “[Using double-tracked vocals] is when it started to sound like an album, instead of a bunch of really good musicians, and then my shitty voice on top.”
In its final form, the bittersweet nostalgia-noir narratives of Beginners are presented as unadorned acoustic songs with light instrumentation from Bridgers, Oberst, and associated collaborators like Marshall Vore and Nathaniel Walcott. Written over the span of many years, the album at times feels as though it tracks Hutson’s coming of age in real time (“I don’t remember getting older/But I’m slowing down” he sings early on). The sweetly romantic “Twin Soul” (“Covering our heads with a coat/When you said, ‘We could be more than friends”) was written, Hutson says, after he “had a really good day on tour in Norway.”
Hutson prefers to discuss the bruised origins of his music in vague terms, but he says that songs like “Talk” and “Lose This Number” are re-imaginations of “the circumstances of what the adults in your life were going through at the time you were a child.” Hutson’s poignant lyricism is on display on the latter song, which offers up a heartbreaking image of an adult reflecting on painful childhood separation. “I want to crawl into this daydream I’m having/And live here forever,” he sings in a double-tracked whisper. “Confetti blowing into the ocean/The three of us finally together.”
Then there’s “Get the Old Band Back Together,” a song that was partially inspired by a listless band Hutson grew up around as a teenager, which he claims once kicked out a member for wanting to get a day job.
“I realize the irony of what I’m about to say, considering how long I worked on my record,” he says, “but it’s about this band that’s been around for so long and has never put out any music.”
He swears the song is not about himself. “It was a really funny situation,” Hutson adds, “because it wasn’t my life.”
ON THE RISE
Anabel Itoha, originally from Barcelona, takes a courageous leap to relocate from Spain to NYC to pursue her music career. She mentions, “everybody kept telling me I was crazy, but when people tell you that, it’s probably because you’re really up to something.” She describes the depth of sacrifice you have to make to pursue your passion, but “if you really want something, you should just go for it.”
At an early age, Anabel’s primary school teacher noticed her powerful singing voice and pointed it out to her mother. Anabel shares that her family helped cultivate a path for her to explore her musical talents through concerts and performances throughout childhood. It wasn't until later when Anabel was fully invested in her dream, and the weight and reality of telling her mother, "No, Mom, I'm not gonna be a doctor; I'm gonna be a singer," truly sank in.
When reality hit, it took her family some time to accept her decision. Although they initially joined the chorus of “you’re crazy for moving out of the country—and to NYC, no less,” they still show their support. Moving to the U.S. was no easy feat, which involves more than just cultural adjustment. Despite visa challenges and navigating how to work legitimately on her music and with management teams, Anabel remained undeterred and kept pushing forward.
When asked to elaborate further on the challenges of breaking into the NYC music scene, she mentions having to create a name for yourself. It wasn’t just about adapting to a new culture; it was also trying to to keep up with the fast-pace lifestyle of New York City. With everything moving so quickly, you have to figure out your impact in a city full of hustle.
Part of making her mark in NYC involved collaborating with artists like Bronx rapper Capella Gray, which gave her a platform to blend R&B, Hip Hop, and Afrobeat influences with her Spanish lyrics. This fusion of genres, driven by her cultural and musical background, creates a truly distinct sound. She also shared the realization of feeling like she was in it and really forging a path when she collaborated with Quimico Ultra Mega, a well-known Dominican rapper. Much of the collaborative and nomadic artistry of her pathway has helped propel her creations and develop the uniqueness of her sound.
As she continues to explore her sound and open her heart, you can expect to hear the tenderness and fierceness of her love in her upcoming single "My Baby.”
“Through thick and thin, you’re always gonna be my baby,” she shares about the message behind the track. While the song focuses on the good times and reveling in the best parts of being in love, it also casts the importance of being truly in it with someone, no matter the trials and tribulations. Love can be complicated, but it's worth the twists, turns, and growth. The upbeat nature of the song and pop influences make it perfect music to celebrate the sweetness of being in love.
When asked what her favorite part of making this track was, she mentioned the opportunity for her to step out of her comfort zone and hit a new range of notes. She joked, “I will be the one to complain about something, while I’m doing it, but I’m still getting it done even though it’s hard.” She described the moment of realization— “Oh, I got this” when listening back over her recording and feeling the triumph of accomplishing something challenging and new.
Between catchy and heart-stirring melodies, a new range of notes, and a fresh take on love, you can expect to hear “My Baby” on September 13th on all streaming platforms.
Stay tuned on Anabel’s socials for the upcoming “My Baby” music video, and for more updates on upcoming releases!
