Pixel Revolt fell into my hands by way of chance. The fifth release from singer-songwriter John Vanderslice played on constant rotation in my home for three weeks. His pop-perfect melodies were a constant accompaniment to homework, cooking, folding laundry – all the mundane but necessary parts of life. That might not sound like a good thing. Trust me. It is.

I started paying attention to the lyrics, and was massively impressed. Again. With a gem of a record, I knew I had to see him live. I arrived at the Brooklyn’s Southpaw on that Saturday night. The walls were plastered with vinyl record covers and the spirit was festive. Vanderslice and company stepped on stage; greeting us heartily, his adorable, shrew-like face broke into a huge grin. His shirt was gauzy, and sported a faint butterfly print- perhaps in homage to his hometown of San Francisco. He looked genuinely happy to be there, and to see our bright smiling faces beaming right back at him. Before he began his set, Vanderslice took care of some business. He gleefully held up a copy of the Arrested Development DVD he had requested at the previous night’s show, claiming he and his band had no time to purchase this beloved item. Having asked for one copy, he got four, and promised to reimburse all.

Vanderslice held his own on guitar, and was accompanied by bass, keyboard, Moog synthesizer and drums. Vanderslice and company opened with a rousing rendition of “Letter to the East Coast,” a standout track off the new album. The set that night was a mix of old and new songs - some unrecognizable to my Pixel Revolt-trained ears - all thoroughly enjoyable and instantly familiar.

My favorite tune hit three songs into the night. The lyrics to “Angela” are perfect in that I’m-really-saying-something-important-using-metaphors-including-cute-animals kind of way. Superficially about a bunny, it is really about taking risks and letting go. A simple song, it hits all the right chords. Vanderslice sings with a clear, pure voice and delivers these little tales set to haunting melodies while maintaining an intimate, informal air. He is the perfect storyteller.

Vanderslice talks (and sings) with his hands. Throughout the performance, he gestured and gesticulated with passion, perhaps subconsciously alluding to the hidden depths of his work.
Between songs, Vanderslice kept the dialogue running. It is difficult to be witty on demand (and on stage), but Vanderslice kept trying, lame pirate joke not-withstanding.

“How do pirates quit smoking?”
“They use the patch!”

The singer-songwriter struck me as much too sincere to tell jokes, and he’s also too giddy and enthusiastic to believe when he so earnestly sings, “The truth is: I have no faith in happiness.”

The truth is: Vanderslice is a fantastic songwriter and a quality singer, and the crowd at Southpaw was lucky to have him for an evening.

Pixie Revolt is out now on Barsuk Records.
For move on Vanderslice, check out www.johnvanderslice.com