Pocket Vinyl: Eighth Notes and Paints

Throughout 13 tracks, Pocket Vinyl's "Monster's Talking" presents a musical richness that runs the gambit of everything from loose and freewheeling to somber and reflective. The group, comprised of married Houghton graduates Eric Stevenson, ‘08, and Elizabeth Jancewicz, ‘09, is unusual in that, during each gig, while Stevenson plays and sings, Jancewicz completes a new painting to be auctioned off to the highest bidder. The result is dynamic, robust keyboard riffs which are met, matched, and enhanced by imaginative, lyrical, visual art. However, the brilliance of the album is not the ways in which the two art forms meet, but rather the place in which they meet.

Pocket Vinyl's sophomore release is a spatial experience. The opening track "Quiet Epiphany" feels literally like a jumping-off point. The first lines, "We birthed a strong and distinct fume/My hands they feel as big as this room," are immediately echoed by a rippling harp which blends a fleet-footed effervescence. And as the song moves from these first airy arpeggio pluckings to a forceful orchestral swell -- cymbals and all -- the track implies movement -- specifically movement upwards. Instead of "diving into" the album, the cliche is reversed and the listener finds him or herself floating into the strange and imaginative stratosphere in which Stevenson and Jancewicz have crafted their work.

Following this initial "lift-off," the second track "Birds and Fish" features the first of four tracks in which Jancewicz speaks over Stevenson's piano. The first is about the subject of her paintings, the second is about the process of her paintings ("The Color Yellow"), the third about things she likes to paint ("Creepy Little Monsters"), and the fourth about the reception and philosophy of the band ("Encouragement"). These spoken word sections are interesting as insight and crucial as a testament to the dual elements (piano and painting) which mold the creative world Pocket Vinyl inhabits.

While Jancewicz's interviews reinforce the group's fascinating fusion, Stevenson's lyrics further blur the lines between the two artistic mediums. The song, "I Hear Colors" begins, "I listen to the colors run/I hear dyes rather than diction." And in addition to admitting audial synesthesia, Stevenson's poetry often lends itself to structural or compositional sensibilities. The lines "A spiral climbs up the side of its back/Wraps around the corner and picks up the slack" ("Saloon Song") bring an M.C Escher illusion to the mind's eye whereas "The mountain peaks are all sprinkled with bunkers/And they're dressed in a sunshine that's intrinsically contemplating" ("My Brother's Time") speaks about light in a strikingly impressionistic language. A close listen reveals that Stevenson sees little distinction between his piano and his wife's canvas.

"Saloon Song" encapsulates much of what Pocket Vinyl is about. The chorus line, "I feel sorry for you if your piano's never been out of tune," is sung over a driving ragtimesque piano. This song (which, according to Stevenson, was written on an out of tune piano) is a celebration of the creative energy and ethereal plane of artistry where listeners can become seers.  And it is fair to mention that this ethos is not simply happy and carefree. "I Once Kissed A Woman Simply for Her Lips" and "Foster Child" both present sad and difficult stories. Yet these tracks too float into the Pocket Vinyl cloud. Black and grey are colors too.

This is an album made by two artists who, as Jancewicz says in "Encouragement," are "doing what they love." Their music is about hearing color and seeing music. It is about breaking free from a world where lines divide and rising to a space where lines blur and swirl to form monsters laughing, monster crying: "Monster's Talking."