John Vanderslice @ The Lexington - 26/09/2011

It was a bitter afternoon. The stormy weather was followed by the discovery of my thoroughly-soaked-colourful jumper at the bottom of an elasticised carrier bag. I carried on as best as I could with the commute to London, well knowing the all-encompassing prospect of John Vanderslice at ‘The Lexington’. Out of spite, I and my friend pretended not to care about the glum weather that had destroyed various tourists’ day and swung into Tesco in an obnoxious flurry for cheaper food/alcohol to have before going inside.

Now when I’d described the last Vanderslice show I went to so graphically to different people, it seemed that the recipient couldn’t believe he was as personable and amiable as my story had suggested. At any rate, the critical moment was approaching. John appeared piecing together his equipment and his equally humble drummer adjusted his own kit set-up; the two-piece had arrived. I was a little sad not to see the third member of the group reveal himself as I was so impressed with their interaction when I saw him in Bristol two years back, but heck to apprehension.
They crashed into a couple off of Pixel Revolt, and one off of the latest record ‘White Wilderness’; it was instantly terrific. ‘Kookaburra’ soon arrived. John frisked his guitar from side-to-side as an overwhelming drum performance came before our twinkling-eyes – that’s the true spirit comrade. Vanderslice’s powerful lyrics were coming across firmly and it was a testament to his first-class songwriting – a truly incomparable foundation for the interesting instrumental textural arrangements to transpire. The themes on the chorus’ of ‘Tablespoon of Codeine’ suddenly caught my intention as the unison guitar, synth and kit were carried out and the established-gutsy-drummer insisted himself even more so. I heard a mate in awe saying ‘Fuck’ to himself boundlessly as he was bashing out a syncopated-synth-idea with his left hand and performing further polyrhythms with his right. After the song finished John actually turned to the drummer at stage-right and was baffled by the intricacies, asking the audience and his colleague whether they could play one more chorus but instrumentally, so that he may fully appreciate what was before him. He watched with an air of having something important to witness and, after thanking us for our singing, noticed the special decree of amazement from the audience.
He was taken aback too.

The drummer sat out next as he pulled out his acoustic and sprayed out a few numbers which were, as always, beautifully delivered. They returned back to their set up for a couple more, including a track which hit the building like a wave – ‘Too Much Time’.

The two guys came down into the middle of the audience to play acoustically, performing two requests (Angela, White Dove) and then a last, ‘Time to go’. I suggested the track ‘Heated Pool & Bar’ and he insisted “sorry, but it’s so difficult to play, but if you come find me after, I’ll stumble through it on an acoustic for you”. A murmur of the lyrics went round the group as we gushed and gathered, his wilful eyes prompted us to continue with vigour. So Me, Tom, Sam, Moss and Chris sang our hearts out to Angela, a song he admits he hasn’t played in a very long time, and more-so the ever-beautiful ‘White Dove’.

The fear and despair we had felt earlier, whilst trying to find an appropriate mode of transport to commute with in our hectic day, had been drowned in enthralment; these performances smashed like missiles of rectitude. In this experience our awe returned to us. I went over to John after fifteen minutes or so. He soon recognised me, not only from that night, but remembering an anecdote we’d told him about the guy who gets his cock out at the end of teen-wolf when I last met him. We laughed and chatted casually as I asked him about his own material, playing with Sufjan Stevens & The Wrens whilst hearing a few stories about his tour.

-Oobah