Reviews for Quitter's Claim


The Philadelphia Inquirer
by Mike Pelusi

Since the mid-1990s, singer-songwriter Cynthia G. Mason has been a captivating presence on the local music scene. Her entrancing, hushed songs never go to obvious places. Instead, they feature unexpected chord progressions and intriguingly elliptical lyrics. She's earned comparisons to Suzanne Vega, Kristen Hersh, even Joni Mitchell. With several self-released cassettes and CDs under her belt, Mason has made a move to the Philly label High Two for her first national release, the excellent Quitter's Claim, due out on Jan. 23. On the album, Mason and accompanist Larry D. Brown construct sparse guitar arrangements, giving plenty of room to Mason's clear, unaffected voice. It's a method that lets sterling songs such as "Breaks the Drill" and "Claim" shine.


Metro
Home Recording: Cynthia G. Mason stayed in for her new album
by Shaun Brady

Having taken some time off from recording to pursue a law degree, Philadelphia singer-songwriter Cynthia G. Mason is celebrating the release of her first collection of new songs in five years, “Quitter’s Claim,” a dark, introspective set of starkly gorgeous miniatures. For the first time she isn’t releasing the CD herself, instead hooking up with Philly-based label High Two. She discussed the process via e-mail: Do you see an overall theme to the songs you selected for the album? I do see an overall theme to the album, but I don’t think I realized it until I had finished it, and looked at it as a whole. A lot of the songs seem to be about quitting, making excuses, and then trying again. Was there a specific atmosphere you were trying to evoke? I wanted to make an album that was quiet and intimate, something that sounded natural. I felt the most comfortable playing music at home, so I decided to start recording it there. Larry [Brown, Mason’s producer] brought over his four track. I would wake up, make some tea and play into it each morning before work. On some of the songs, Larry and I sat in his apartment and just recorded everything live. We wanted to keep things simple, but also add some depth and texture to the guitar and vocal lines, so Larry added harmonica and slide guitar to some of the songs. You can hear car horns honking and guitar strings screeching and chairs squeaking. I guess that’s part of the charm of home recording. How confessional are the lyrics? Each song was based on a very specific feeling I had about something that happened, and then I would expand from there to flesh out the story. I would sit down and think, “This is what it feels like to lose this person,” or “This is what it feels like to work at this job,” or “This is what it feels like to fail at something.” I would try to describe it to myself, but I also wanted other people to be able to identify with it.


The Philadelphia Daily News
Yo! Features
by Sara Sherr

Local singer-songwriter Cynthia G. Mason has been a fixture on the indie rock scene since the mid-'90s, when she started putting out cassette-only recordings on her own label, Spiderwoman Records. The 32-year-old West Philly native is gentle enough for the 'XPN/Lilith crowd, but her darkly observant lyrics and intricate guitar picking have earned her comparisons to Cat Power, Suzanne Vega and Kristin Hersh. She took a break to study at Temple Law School and is now a public-interest attorney at Philadelphia Legal Assistance, where she helps low-income women who are victims of domestic violence. Last year, she got her big break when her recording of Richard Buckner's "Surprise, AZ" ended up on a Believer magazine CD, alongside tracks by Spoon, the Decemberists and the Shins. Mason also loaned her vocals to B.C. Camplight's "Blood and Peanut Butter," featured on an episode of "Grey's Anatomy..." (click here for the rest of the story.)


Philadelphia City Paper
Staking Her Claim: Cynthia G. Mason is no quitter
by Brian Howard

For Cynthia G. Mason, it was a matter of if, not when. After a string of cassette-only releases, the singer-songwriter with the rhythmically droning guitar figures, haunting voice and bewitchingly abstract lyrics, released her first CD in 2000. The eponymous seven-song collection on her Spiderwoman label earned her local plaudits and national acclaim. She started playing with a backing band made up of then-members of skronk-rock outfit Need New Body. The follow-up was being planned. The West Philly native and Penn grad had, it seemed, arrived. And then the waiting started... (click here for the rest of the story.)


Philadelphia Weekly
by Doug Wallen

Listen closely. Cynthia G. Mason isn’t going to raise her voice or repeat herself if you miss something. The inveterate Philly songwriter’s new Quitter’s Claim—her first album in half a decade—is soft and careful enough to require endless attention. When a line does jump out, it’s a revelation. Like Damien Jurado or Red House Painters, Mason mines delicate moments for emotional heft while stoking a haunted, dusky vibe. It’s potent stuff...


Philebrity
by Joey Sweeney

Today’s record on the Philebrity Player is a little change of pace for us, seeing as how we don’t usually step into the realm of the singer-songwriter, for fear of going straight down the Helen Leicht wormhole, never to return. But we think you’ll agree that there’s a an edgy darkness to Cynthia G. Mason’s Quitter’s Claim, that makes this record less like an afternoon at Starbucks and more like a hypnotic sesh watching old Super 8 movies of people you don’t know. Laid thick with Nick Drake-y drones and Mason’s plainspoken vocals, Quitter’s Claim showcases a lot of what there is to love about the New Folk movement/thing — a kind of ageless directness. (We also can’t help think that this and the new Meg Baird solo stuff are part of an evolving new piece of Philly music.) As for Mason herself, she’s been playing on the Philly indie circuit for a few years now, with numerous musicians, but it seems like her most lasting musical relationship is with Larry D. Brown, who is her sole accompanist and producer here. As a result, Quitter’s Claim is as stark and as wintry as it gets. Put the kettle on, honey. Quitter’s Claim is a keeper.



Other CGM Reviews


Philadelphia City Paper
City Paper Choice Awards: “Best Philly Represent”
by Brian Howard

When feisty San Francisco culture journal The Believer dropped its June/July music issue complete with a CD of indie rockers covering indie rockers, we ran out and bought it for the hot Devendra Banhart-on-Antony and the Johnsons action. But lo and behold, there on the sneaky smash compilation of 2005 were Schuylkill punchers Cynthia G. Mason (breathing a sort of desperate, trembling life into Richard Buckner's "Surprise, AZ") and Espers (doing their past-perfect nu-psych thing to Fursaxa's "Firefly Refrain"). Well played.


Her Jazz
Put us out of our sweet misery
by, Maria T.

The Believer knows something: Philly bands are awesome. That’s why they’ve been featured on the Believer comps. Well, its time for another to shine...While I love the ornate touches on Richard Buckner’s totally classic “Surprise, AZ”, particularly the dobro and harmonica, sometimes I can’t but feel that it might be made better if it were well, made under. And who better than Cynthia Mason, one of my favorite local musicians to perform the task? Recorded with just some light fingerpicking on the guitar, Cynthia’s voice slips back and forth between the two poles of talking and singing, never pledging allegiance to either, which makes the gray area covered in Buckner’s lyrics ever more affecting.


Prefix Magazine
CD Reviews by Mike Krolak

I once had a roommate from Pennsylvania. "Schnapps for colds, gin for the flu!" was his rally call for the ailing, and he told horrifying stories of routine beatings and driving under the influence of everything under the sun. Nice enough, but he-- and by extension, Pennsylvania-- scares the hell out of me. Philly's Cynthia Mason is starting to change my impression. From the gentle plucking and soft strings of "'95" to the wallowing, distorted guitars of "2 Cents Turned to Billions," Mason's placid delivery and appealing production have lulled me into believing Pennsylvania is a modern-day utopia with mood-lighting. I might just head back East for my old roomie's wedding.


Philadelphia City Paper
Cover Story: Shedding the Label: Singer/Songwriter/Spiderwoman Cynthia G. Mason talks shop about self-releasing, self-promoting, adding the "G" and switching to plastic.
by Patrick Rapa

...It's not like the major labels-- or major indies, for that matter-- come around to The Khyber or Tritone scouting for talent, with distribution deals burning holes in their fur-lined pockets. No, more than likely you're going to have to do it your own damn self. That's what singer/songwriter Cynthia G. Mason did. Her Spiderwoman record label started as a way to distribute the music she recorded on a four-track in her West Philly apartment. Starting in 1996, she sold her cassettes at shows, gave them to friends or traded them with other artists. Since then, she's moved downtown and acquired a following. She's also collected a decent-sized debt after putting herself through law school and self-releasing 2000's haunting folk-rock self-titled CD. Wiser and more skilled, Mason is exploring different roads for her next album. We asked her to talk about the nuts and bolts of music at its grass-roots level. We also asked her to come to the office with her guitar and pose for our cover...(Check out the City Paper cover story for the complete interview...)


Time Out New York
Top Live Shows by Sara Marcus

Throughout the late ‘90’s, only a few Philadelphians knew about Cynthia Mason. When she performed, her graceful, understated songs frequently awed clubs full of noisy chatterers into silence. But she never toured and was a lamentably rare sight on the stages of her hometown, spending more nights bent over her law-school casebooks than over microphones. On her 2000 self-titled, self-released CD (Mason’s only one so far), some tracks fill space with mellow guitar squalls and slowly rolled chords; some sport plaintive arrangements of vocals and fingerpicked acoustic guitar; and still others swell with an organ and strings. Her casual, breathy voice has invited frequent Nico comparisons, but the overall feel of the album—with its slow, elegant pop compositions that never veer too far toward perkiness or sleepiness—is most evocative of Suzanne Vega’s tender snapshots and Cat Power’s oblique emotional poetics. Out of law school and finally ready to give her considerable talent its due, Mason has spent the past six months working with her new backing band, drummer Areif Sless-Kitain (of D.C. hardcore groups Regulator Watts and Bluetip) and pianist Daryl Hirsch, recording new songs that bear the orchestral influences of Van Morrison and Nick Drake. None of these tracks have been released so far, the trio has yet to play a single show, and it’s Mason’s first gig in New York: Sunday will mark a long-overdue debut in more ways than one.


Performing Songwriter Magazine
by Clay Steakley

Cynthia G. Mason’s self-titled CD is startlingly intimate. Her songs are confessional, indicting, personal and fierce, but her detached delivery leavens the emotion conveyed by the performance and allows it instead to be felt by the listener. On the hushed, lyrical “’95”, Mason’s straightforward delivery is embraced by crystalline plucked strings and breathing, open pauses between phrases that set the stage for important lines and quietly moaning swells of cello and viola. On “Critic,” Mason’s moody acoustic guitar carries the song but for the occasional jagged, static-touched computerized addition (noises, percussion, ominous tones) from producer Edan Cohen. Mason’s writing has been aptly compared to Joni Mitchell for its easy eloquence and the impenetrable mysteriousness of her images. She also writes with the personal honesty (but not the histrionics) of Tori Amos and the fluidity (but not the preciousness) of Sarah McLachlan. With the wonderful musical additions brought by her musicians and the overall heroin-high linear quality of the production, Mason’s CD is much like the Velvet Underground with Nico—except Mason can sing.


Rockpile magazine
Playback Staff Picks
by Mike McKee

A longtime acoustic solo regular, Philadelphia songwriter Cynthia Mason’s debut CD features a full backing band. Think Cat Power, Ida, but not. Mason’s writing rules by force of nuance and mood rather than irksome hooks. Emotive and genuinely touching, this is the voice of an embrace, as well as a tear. Amazing. (Spiderwoman)


Philadelphia City Paper
Band Together - Cynthia G. Mason opens up about her songs and new collaborators
by Michael Pelusi

“...While songwriting can be a potentially frustrating waiting game, fortunately Mason’s been patient, honing her share of gems. Her early work was recorded solo on her home four-track and released on two cassettes—Untitled (1996) and Critical Neighborhood Map (1998)—on her label, Spiderwoman Records. She was pretty wary about working with other musicians...However, once she started hanging out at Soundgun Studio at the behest of one of the owners, her friend Edan Cohen, Mason changed her tune...Whatever diffidence she once felt toward adding other players, you’ll find few traces of it now. The resulting self-titled, Cohen-produced album is an exquisitely arranged affair, from the precise folk-rock backing on “Measure” to the unsettled string section on “Wit’s End”...Live the songs take on yet another new life. Among the musicians recruited for the album was Chris Powell, who in turn introduced Mason to Larry Brown and Chris Reggiani. All three are also members of Need New Body, and you can just see the standard press blurb: Acoustic guitar-strummin’ songstress...joins forces with three-fifths of an art-jazz-rock freak-out troupe. But that’s a bit reductive when it comes to this group. Why accentuate polarities when they make music that sounds so natural? Their supple renditions of “Subtle Things” and “For a Living”—with Reggiani’s sturdy bass, Brown’s subtle guitar colorings and Powell’s inventive, quietly urgent percussion—underline the restless, even angry emotions that lurk in Mason’s songs. ‘We pretty much took the tunes and just arranged them for a live setting,’ says Brown, ‘And that’s something I think is a really great achievement. You come up with an album like that with great string arrangements, percussion, and computer effects and then take it and re-do it all over again for the sake of playing live. With these guys, with Chris, Chris, and Cynthia, we could probably do it again. Just for the fun of it.’”...


Philadelphia City Paper
"Best of/Worst of Philadelphia 2000" issue
by a.d. amorosi

BEST OF: "Creepiest chamber pop songstress" (and we mean this in a good way)... The year is 1967. The occasionally sunlit Velvet Underground With Nico LP is released, the ultimate exercise in insect-paranoid noir rock with a viola and a German girl singer. That same year on the other side of New York City, Joni Mitchell plans her dusky chamber folk debut Song For A Seagull and the cooly complex lyricism behind "Night in the City" and "Nathan la Franeer." Cynthia G. Mason is all THAT and a bag of chipped shoulders. With Grace Kelly-esque grace and Nico-like allure, Mason - on her eponymous debut CD (Spiderwoman) - intones intricately detailed songs for her seagulls like the aptly titled "Subtle Things" and "Measure."


Philadelphia Weekly
Self-Help Guru - Cynthia Mason’s Spiderwoman Records is the best support system an artist could ask for—and it’s all hers...
by Brian Glaser

“...More than just a means to distribute her tapes of 4-track recordings, Spiderwoman has served as an effective tool in carving out a personalized space for her music, words and thoughts...Although she’s a female singer/songwriter—a figure very much in the current commercial zeitgeist—Mason doesn’t play folk ditties or novelty tunes. Her songs are dark and often anguished, strolling paths cleared by Kristin Hersh and Cat Power. Mason’s lyrics build fuzzy emotional pictures with asymmetrical images (“They fed them legends like flies/A selfish mourning forged a hostile divide”) And occasionally zero in with uncanny precision (“It’s easier to humor your sense of obligation/Than to borrow what you took.”). Her sound is somber, made all the more stark by the leftover space surrounding the skeleton of Mason alone with her five-string guitar...”