SOUNDTRACK: GRACE VANDERWAAL-Tiny Desk Concert #751 (June 6, 2018).
I had been listening to the All Songs Considered podcast when Bob Boilen told the below story about how he found Grave VanderWaal. Since I don’t watch any show with anyone with talent of any kind, I had never heard of her either.
When 14-year-old Grace VanderWaal came to perform at the Tiny Desk I had to confess to her (and her mom) that, until my “accidental concert experience,” I had no idea who she was, nor did I know what America’s Got Talent was.
It all started this past February, when I went to the 9:30 Club, a 1,200 capacity music venue, to see what I thought was a show by rock guitarist Grace Vonderkuhn and her power trio from Delaware.
When I arrived for the unusually early 7:30pm show, I saw a long line of young teens wrapping around the block, mostly girls, and a fair smattering of adults who didn’t look like the regular concert goers who head to the 9:30 Club on a weekday evening. And as you’ve likely guessed by now, the show I was about to witness was not the riff-rock guitar player we’d recently featured on All Songs Considered but a very different sort of wunderkind who won the hearts of millions as the 11th winner of America’s Got Talentand, now, a Columbia recording artist.
Inside the club was a massively enthralled and enthused crowd and it didn’t take long for me, one of the few older guys in the club, to also be completely swept away by her performance. It was a dazzling show that felt fresh, sincere, bold but also simple, with Grace on ukulele singing songs such as “Moonlight,” a song about a friend dealing with mental health issues, which she also performs here at my desk.
“She always has a smile
From morning to the night
The perfect poster child
That was once in my life
A doll made out of glass
All her friends think that she’s great
But I can see through it all
And she’s about to break”
Despite what I feel is my broad love of music, I was reminded how easy it is to get comfortable in the musical confines we devise for ourselves. It’s easy to stereotype artists and perhaps be dismissive of something that falls outside our comfort zone. But Grace’s show and music reminds me to keep my thoughts and judgements open. So, if you’re about to pass on watching this one, figuring you’re not going to connect with a young teen and her music, stop. Take a deep breath, open up your heart and let Grace VanderWaal enchant you with her unique talent.
I was curious about this Grace after his story (and also wanted to make sure I didn’t make the same mistake when I saw that Grace Vonderkuhn was playing nearby in Philly ( I didn’t make that show).
So this Grace has a raspy voice, making her sound much older than 14. But when you look at her she looks like a fragile child. I’m not sure how poppy her recorded music is, but the ukulele-driven song “Moonlight” is fun and different, despite the very poppy overall feel.
She’s accompanied by “her beautiful beautiful guitarist” Melissa Dougherty. Dougherty also sings great backing vocals. Is she annoyed being the accompaniment for a 14 year old?
She says that “Darkness Keeps Chasing Me” has become her favorite–she was always told the song was too much of a downer. Her voice is surprisingly deep in the beginning. Indeed, she has a nice command of her voice–low and high notes. The guitar melody is quite lovely, too.
“Clearly” is kind of a cover of Johnny Nash’s “I Can See Clearly Now.” They thought that it was such a bright happy song and her producer thought it would be cool to add darker lyrics leading up to the happy chorus. I don’t know the original verses I don’t think, but of course I know the song. And listening to it now, it doesn’t need darker lyrics, but it’s fine that they’re added.
So this isn’t so much a cover as taking a really great idea and building a new song around it.
But don’t like the way the chorus has changed:
I can see clearly now, the rain has gone.
I accept all of the things I cannot change.
What did they put the AA slogan in the voice of a 14 year old?
Plus I hate that they have modernized the delivery of the “bright bright sunshiney day.” Part. It sounds like contemporary vocal melody and it’s just wrong.
So I’m mixed. Glad I heard her. But even more glad that I didn’t make the same mistake that Bob did.
[READ: January 12, 2017] “The Polish Rider”
This was an interesting story about an artist and Uber.
Sonia is a Polish artist–she grew up in Poland. She is about to have a show at a gallery curated by Elena. But she wakes in the night realizing that she has made a terrible mistake. She has allowed two of her paintings to be hung on the wall with paint on the edges. The rest are “blank” or painted white and look clean, but these two–she is full of regrets that she allowed them to be hung as they were.
Her paintings are all variations of the same thing: the famous kiss between Erich Honecker, the leader of the German Democratic republic from 1971 until the fall of the Berlin Wall and Leonid Brezhnev, the head of the U.S.S.R. from 1964 to 1982 The iconic Socialist fraternal kiss took place in Berlin and was photographed by Régis Bossu in 1979. The photo was ubiquitous in Kraków.
After The Berlin Wall came down, a Soviet artist Dmitri Vrubel painted the image on the East side of the wall with the caption: “God help me survive this deadly love affair.” In March 2009 the artist spruced up the paining, which Sonia thought cheapened the whole thing.
Sonia’s canvasses all showed this kiss, meticulously done and very clean, But each canvas was done in a different style: cubist, chiaroscuro, etc.
What’s interesting, several paragraphs into the story is that suddenly we have a “me” as the narrator. The narrator and Sonia were both born in 1979. And the narrator has written an essay for the show. She alludes to her painting style as like the different filters on an iPhone.
Sonia went to the gallery to retrieve the two paintings so she could “fix” them. She hired an Uber to take her there and one to take her back. Uber was having some problems with their drivers recently and were trying to convince the public that it was safe to use the service, They had made their security all the more strict (that is STILL going on).
So, when Sonia realized she’d left her paintings in the car, it made it very hard for her to get any information from Uber headquarters.
That’s the first third of the story. The rest concerns her attempts to talk to Uber and the driver to find out if they knew anything.
They take a cab and the driver also bashes Uber and their “fifteen second rule.” This leads the narrator to think about Taxi, the show and how much more helpful cranky Louie (Danny DeVito) would have been than the pleasant but useless Uber manager was.
They ultimately go to the police where she meets Sergeant Kingdom (would I make that up?) (who offers to help in an unpleasant way). They police also complain about Ubers fifteen second rule.
I enjoy the way the narrator thinks about the missing paintings–how they are undergoing change–some essential sense had been changed, like if they were discarded in an alley or sold, there essence would be different.
The narrator is also inspired to write about this whole incident–scrap her current essay and write something new. She actually gets pretty excited about the prospect. The narrator has always felt a jealousy for painting and sculpting because those works have a uniqueness to them–a value for the original, which writing doesn’t–any copy is as valuable as any other.
Will they get the paintings back? Does it even matter? It must to someone.

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