My goal is to see one show per week. Yes, I might be that annoying friend that just has to tell you about the thing you missed, but I’m also catching every great show in the city of Chicago–with plenty more ahead of me. Welcome to the Chicago Concert Dispatch.
At the time of this show, it is 21 weeks into the year and I have seen 94 shows.
As evidenced by his experimental rock, John Vanderslice is a musician’s musician. Vanderslice held everyone’s attention through his storyteller demeanor. He told us about his first kiss–if only he could find Jamie White again, he knows they’d be together. He doesn’t care what her circumstances are, he will even “fucking wreck her marriage.” His sense of play was infectious when he talked about Jamie, but also his gear and philosophy of life. I know nothing of effects pedals, but the way he talked about and even demoed them (at the audience’s request) made me smile. I would guess that he spoke just as many minutes as he sang/played. For an opener and a Sunday night crowd, that could have been a downer, but Thalia Hall’s crowd this evening, on the night of the Game of Throne’s finale, were definitely music nerds and were definitely into it.
I wish I could share all those stories, but I could never capture the energy he brought to them. Passionate beliefs. Radical kindness. Warmth.
Seeing Vanderslice play was completely unlike listening to his albums in the best possible way. He had an acoustic and electric guitar, a drum machine, and some effects pedals. Simple. His most recent studio album, The Cedars, caught my ear for the spacious layering of instruments and sounds. The way effects weave in and out is masterful and entrancing. Seeing these songs simplified lets you really “see” the songwriting.
The best example of this was when he came out onto the subwoofer and sang “I’ll Wait for You” on his acoustic, completely unamplified. This is the beauty of seeing bands in a space like Thalia Hall, designed before amplification. Hearing it stripped back to just the guitar, it was so familiar, but so different. I thought, for a moment, it was cover. I guess in a way it was, just of his own song. This particular song is one of his more heart-wrenching and straightforward stories told from the point of view of an addict not able to support their partner who is trying to stay sober. The voice of the song is so specific, and specificity is the soul of narrative (JJHO shoutout!).
A few songs later, I was very happy we got a little of the spacious, reverby psych sound on “Oral History of Silk Road 1.” OK–one bit of gear chat: he told us about his addiction to Bill Finnegan’s distortion pedal which is problematic because apparently Finnegan himself is a difficult person to work with. But, it did make for a yummy sound on “How the West Was Won.” I also liked how his vocals were a little rounder and wider in tone on that song.
He closed with “Exodus Damage” featuring David Bazan from Pedro the Lion playing drums for him. They jammed out and brought back a bit of that psych flavor. It was a perfect way to end his set.
Before Pedro the Lion entered the stage, projections of a blown out sunrise in psychedelic pinks and oranges and yellows began running. As it switched to landscapes, it put me in mind of the apocalypse. The images became shredded and hazed like lost footage. The band started playing, kicking off the show with one of my favorites from Phoenix, “Yellow Bike.” They rolled through six songs before they paused and Bazan spoke to us. He told us the videos are the work of the videographer and lighting designer, Terrence Ankin. They drove around Bazan’s hometown of Phoenix, took video, and then “did not treat it kindly,” hence my apocalyptic impression.
While the whole album is about growing up in Phoenix, Bazan said Pedro the Lion songs are really about processing grief. Grief is not just about people who have died, it is about anything we can never get back. The longer you live, more things become lost to you: ruined friendships, lost opportunities, lost childhood freedom, moments when you look back and cannot help but think you’ve made all the wrong choices, the heaviness of regret. The most important lesson about grief is that you have to keep looking at the pain until the edge of it doesn’t cut as deep. Keep crying until you run out of tears. Then, you have to pick yourself up.
That is the real power of music, it gives us an outlet to confront the things we might rather not look at and the joy to carry on. Through all this, Pedro the Lion does a great job bringing optimism to the songs, too, and not just with a driving beat. They are often extolling how to process your feelings, how to make it through another day, reminding us that “somehow we just have to clean up [our] stuff cause no one else will.”
The stage presence of Pedro and the Lion is subtle. Three guys all playing with intensity. The drummer, Sean Lane, was laid back, playing on the back of the beat. Erik Walters played his guitar with closed eyes, moving forward and back, only bringing his aggression a few times during the show, for example, during “Leaving the Valley.” It built and built and built at the end, really brought power for the first time at the end of their set. It built to the point that I could feel it rumble through me.
In the end, Bazan thanked us all for coming. He credited fans for making his music possible, told us all the reasons that making music and touring is rewarding. My favorite: “It’s a joy to be a goddamn badass.”
John Vanderslice Official | Facebook | Bandcamp | Instagram
Pedro the Lion Official | Facebook | Bandcamp | Instagram
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