“When the morning comes I will be fine/ When the day is done I will be fine," moans David Vandervelde in a voice eerily reminiscent of Dan Fogelberg at his peak. In my book that's a swell thing, but that tome holds loving chapters on '70s soft rock. Waiting For Sunrise (Secretly Canadian) isn't so much a throwback as a loving homage, right down to the frosted sepia cover shot and ornate title lettering. Where Vandervelde immediately veers his own way is in the hidden jams, epic builds and tougher than you'd expect electric guitar flare-ups. That he evokes the best parts of Fogelberg, Jackson Browne and even doomed sweetheart Pete Ham (Badfinger) is worthy of celebration. That sort of pure, buttery singer-songwriter fare never goes out of style because it speaks to the things we ache for as we watch the clock hands crawl. Each cut on Sunrise adds a layer of pleasure that only grows on return visits, where one picks up on a splash of reverb or organ swell that accentuates a line or just makes you feel good. His band, The Lickedy Splitz, hit all the right marks, playing with forthrightness and curiously strong instinct, their passions really attaching to the tape. Richie Kirkpatrick (space guitar and tambourine) and Max Hart (pianos, organs and pedal steel) deserve special recognition for their contributions. There's a sturdiness to the songwriting, playing and performances that resonates loudly. Nothing fancy in some respects but this is about as good as the sensitive-boy-with-a-guitar thing gets.
Here's Vandervelde and his band performing “Knowledge of Evil" from the new album at Fuck Yeah Fest 5 in August.
