"Laptop succeeds not only because of its exquisite production and punchy songwriting, but also because of the tongue-in-cheek humor that underlies every cut. Hartman's emotional reflections are so brazenly absurd, you can't help but chuckle at the earnestness and razor-sharp wit with which they are delivered."



"Laptop makes music with a refreshing amount of heart, soul and, most of all, cynicism, recalling a time when "intelligent" didn't translate to "boring" -- or sacrificing a groove."

LA Weekly

“Laptop is the best band in NYC.”

NY Press

“Hartman is up there with the very best lyrical craftsman.”

The London Times

“Irresistibly marvelous… Remarkable and jaw dropping.”


“So heartbreakingly piquant are his lyrics and so tragicomically true his world-view, you wonder how he can be an American… Mischievous, snarling New York synth-pop genius Jesse Hartman, is one of the
few artists that the whole Time Out music section can agree on. We’re mad about the boy.”

–Time Out London

"Hartman is heartless, but he's also hilarious.”

– New York Newsday

“Rarely has the sound of going nowhere fast been so satisfying.”


“It's like “Sex In The City” for boys. Only better.”

Time Out London

"Bitter, bitchy and as witty as a younger computer-literate Woody Allen,
a 'Users Guide' to your 20's...Quietly brilliant."

Q Magazine

"Imagine Leonard Cohen's I'm Your Man remixed by Devo -- Hartman, like Cohen, possesses that rare and treasurable knack of writing genuinely funny songs that are not novelty pop. This is because Hartman has a rarefied understanding of the truth."

The Independent, London


”Jesse Hartman`s (Laptop) wry, New-Wave-meets disco songs are a punky, post-modern delight. gleeful, geeky and very, very chic.”

Time Out London

"Hartman has the semi-detached, cinematic-sociophobic world view of a Woody Allen character… The 1964 Mick Jagger reincarnated as a computer nerd."

–The Guardian

"Heavenly pop."

– Time Out New York

"Expect a lot from this young American."


"A super-ironised take on robo-glam and dolorous New York ennui, perfectly capturing that revelatory time when some coked-up rockpig decided to integrate `synths` into his schtick during an existential crisis at Studio 54."