New Orleans-- home to whiz-bang vampire novelist Poppy Z. Brite and a frequent locale of the Girls Gone Wild video series-- is infamous for its muggy, beaded sleaziness, as well as a shitload of haunted locales. It's also the sweaty workshop of Mr. Quintron, the scattered 9th ward inventor of the Drum Buddy (a rotating, percussive oscillator activated by rhythmic light exposure patterns) and the fertile mind behind a finely tweaked circus-cum-porn rhinestone universe.
Born in Germany, Q came of age in Mobile, Alabama and St. Louis, Missouri. Combing electronic know-how and sonic flair, he headed to Chicago when he was 17, where he hooked up with Bulb records, who up to this point released most of his material. Quintron relocated to New Orleans in 1991, and during a bit of Mardi Gras magic, met his wife Miss Pussycat, a renowned puppeteer and proprietor of the now defunct theater space Pussycat Gardens. They've been working together on music, sexy costumes, musical gadgets, infomercials, and over-the-top live shows ever since. Checking those grubby fingernails reachin' out for Miss Pussycat's pink air-brushed shirt on the cover of Are You Ready for an Organ Solo?, you can see they're collaboratin' on this freaky-ass love-in as well.
My first run-in with Quintron was his second record, the vinyl-only Amazing Spellcaster (its shiny, silver-and-red swirl packaging leaked and smeared onto my hands when I first bought it). Recorded live at the Pussycat Caverns, it was a seriously haunted organ stomp of bottles, birds, and a Disco Light Machine. During this early period, Quintron's tunes were more gleefully exploratory and repetitious. I remember imagining this goggled smoke and mirror man living in a Victorian-styled cave, reading lots of Harry Partch.
I miss that arcane shit. Q's lately been surrounded by an army of guest vocalists and some honest-to-god pop star hooks-- and he recorded this album with Tim Kerr, so things are even more layered and finessed. Despite the added production value, Quintron still handles the bulk of instrumental duties (Miss Pussycat plays maracas and a second drum), continuing with his one-man-band approach. But in the studio, that's hardly discernable: assembled track by track, it sounds like any other band. I don't mind cohesion, but I'm a bit nervous about the dance-oriented cheerleader change of pace here-- imagine a less irritating Peaches.
"Underwater Dance Club" is a worrisome nod to the B52's, and when the record gets harsher, as on "Cave Formation", Quintron only approaches the detached pounding of Chicks On Speed. "Miniature Breakdown" is even more electroclash familiar, but does ushers in moments of a Terry Riley You're No Good vibe, which carries through to the next track, "I'm Not Busy". "Teenage Antoinette" and "Place Unknown" more successfully combine these new strains with his keyboard-driven sound, both exciting examples of his progression.
You could righteously label most of these tracks soulful workouts, but the closer "Organ Solo"-- a twisted laser tag waltz-- serves as a contradiction to the entire album, evoking Quintron's more ecstatic early years. I'm not a nostalgic man, I just know what works, and this reminder of how much better it used to be exposes the shakiness of his new ideas. While not his strongest or most compelling work, Are You Ready for an Organ Solo? does have some of that old-age chutzpah shaken with its new school ingredients, offering a sometimes swank interlude to Quintron's dirty hotels and kitschy backwaters.
