2008 Woodie Awards
Vandervelde teaches old rock new tricks
Sam Blau
Issue date: 1/24/07 Section: Diversions
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Born too late to fully appreciate the '70s glory of spinning vinyl and true classic rock? There's still a chance to reminisce about the days of rock star pin-ups with David Vandervelde's debut album, "The Moonstation House Band," which offers a taste of what our generation has missed. Vandervelde carves out a slice of the '70s and brings it to the table in 2007 to feature an unexpected combination of Bowie glam and youthful lyrics.
The 22-year-old Chicagoan manages to simultaneously defy and connect with music of his own time by leaning heavily on a classic rock frame while adding a modern spin to enrich his lyrics. He builds bridges that stretch to transcend the generation gap, an endeavor only accomplished by the truly talented. Attempting to revive the sounds of the past comes with the inevitable consequence of being compared to the classic rock icons to whom present artists might never hold a candle. The simple fact that his obvious likeness to stars such as T. Rex's Marc Bolan doesn't leave Vandervelde looking like a wannabe born in the wrong decade is worthy of praise.
Vandervelde doesn't lean on the shallow crutch of overtly sexual messages laced through his lyrics to hook the young crowd. Instead he offers a fresh, nearly innocent vibe along with themes ranging from broken hearts to summer love. Several songs carry a hint of sex, slightly provocative while leaving just enough to the imagination. "Jacket" is a catchy track, thriving on a repetitive beat that ebbs and flows with the song. The music bounces steadily along, with some electric guitar sizzling in the background as he sings to the girl who left an article of clothing in his room: "Didn't someone tell you it's rainin'/ 'Cause you forgot your jacket on the second floor/ You might have got a mind like a fortune teller/ But you'll never know what lovin's for." The story behind the forgotten jacket is untold, leaving its ending open to interpretation and imagination.
One of Vandervelde's strong points is his ability to remove the listener from the confines of reality and place him back in the warm days of summer. Envisioning sunshine threading through the hair of passersby and feeling the tingling anticipation of a new fling is easy with the standout track on the album, "Nothin' No." It offers the intoxicating promise of endless nights and forbidden romance as Vandervelde glances back on a fleeting, worriless summer: "Let me tell you baby, nothin' no is gonna keep us apart" narrates the fierce clinging to the girl who's just out of his reach. Vandervelde uses the following lines about hiding drinks from a prying mother and hickeys from a suspicious boyfriend to bring back the carelessness of summer despite relationship troubles. On paper the lines may appear trashy and promiscuous, but paired with the twangy guitar riffs and perfectly complementary percussion, "Nothin' No" instead suggests the endearing recklessness of youth.
The 22-year-old Chicagoan manages to simultaneously defy and connect with music of his own time by leaning heavily on a classic rock frame while adding a modern spin to enrich his lyrics. He builds bridges that stretch to transcend the generation gap, an endeavor only accomplished by the truly talented. Attempting to revive the sounds of the past comes with the inevitable consequence of being compared to the classic rock icons to whom present artists might never hold a candle. The simple fact that his obvious likeness to stars such as T. Rex's Marc Bolan doesn't leave Vandervelde looking like a wannabe born in the wrong decade is worthy of praise.
Vandervelde doesn't lean on the shallow crutch of overtly sexual messages laced through his lyrics to hook the young crowd. Instead he offers a fresh, nearly innocent vibe along with themes ranging from broken hearts to summer love. Several songs carry a hint of sex, slightly provocative while leaving just enough to the imagination. "Jacket" is a catchy track, thriving on a repetitive beat that ebbs and flows with the song. The music bounces steadily along, with some electric guitar sizzling in the background as he sings to the girl who left an article of clothing in his room: "Didn't someone tell you it's rainin'/ 'Cause you forgot your jacket on the second floor/ You might have got a mind like a fortune teller/ But you'll never know what lovin's for." The story behind the forgotten jacket is untold, leaving its ending open to interpretation and imagination.
One of Vandervelde's strong points is his ability to remove the listener from the confines of reality and place him back in the warm days of summer. Envisioning sunshine threading through the hair of passersby and feeling the tingling anticipation of a new fling is easy with the standout track on the album, "Nothin' No." It offers the intoxicating promise of endless nights and forbidden romance as Vandervelde glances back on a fleeting, worriless summer: "Let me tell you baby, nothin' no is gonna keep us apart" narrates the fierce clinging to the girl who's just out of his reach. Vandervelde uses the following lines about hiding drinks from a prying mother and hickeys from a suspicious boyfriend to bring back the carelessness of summer despite relationship troubles. On paper the lines may appear trashy and promiscuous, but paired with the twangy guitar riffs and perfectly complementary percussion, "Nothin' No" instead suggests the endearing recklessness of youth.