| Danielle Ate The Sandwich — Like A King (2012) |
Danielle Ate The Sandwich – Like A King
Location: Fort Collins, Colorado, U.S.
Album release: 2012
Record Label: Youngest Daughter Records
Runtime: 42:24
Tracklist:
01. Faith in a Man 2:50
02. Indiana 2:32
03. Like a King 3:32
04. Pet Store 3:20
05. Bright Flashes 3:02
06. The Have Nots 4:38
07. Women Who Loved You 2:58
08. Some Other Girl 3:21
09. What You Were 3:23
10. Evolution 3:07
11. Men I Never Knew 3:41
12. Letter to the President 2:53
13. When Our Parents Die 3:10
Website: http://danielleatethesandwich.com/
Contact:
Management:
303-477-6987
♣ Fan Mail:
PO Box 272978
Fort Collins, CO 80527
Bio
♣ Danielle Ate the Sandwich is the stage name of nationally-recognized independent folk musician and songwriter, Danielle Anderson. Danielle has shared the stage and collaborated with acts such as Pomplamoose, Lauren O’Connell, Leo Kottke and Mumford & Sons. Currently based in Fort Collins, Colorado, Danielle has toured nationally since 2009, playing for a loyal fan base of online followers. Her videos on youtube have gained millions of combined views and have given Danielle the opportunity to write and play music full time. Danielle Ate the Sandwich has recorded four albums. Her 2010 release, Two Bedroom Apartment, reached number 5 on iTunes’ top selling singer/songwriter charts. In June 2012, she will release a new, full length, studio album, Like A King.
♣ Denver's Westword describes Danielle as, cripplingly enchanting with lyrics telling the story of a generation coming of age in an age of uncertainty."
The Denver Post says, "Danielle Anderson is a tender singer-songwriter, a brazen humorist, a fearless young woman. Performing as Danielle Ate the Sandwich, Anderson wields a ukulele, a guitar and her own words to tell stories about people."
By Phillip Mlynar Mon., Sep. 12 2011 at 8:00 AM (http://blogs.villagevoice.com)
Danielle Ate The Sandwich
Red Horse Cafe
Saturday, September 10, 2011
Better than: Sitting through YouTube comedy sketches.
♣ Danielle Ate The Sandwich is a young woman in thick-rimmed glasses from Colorado. She plays acoustic guitar, and sometimes the ukulele. If you purchase her self-titled debut album, from 2007, it comes snugly tucked into a hand-crafted felt case with a button sewn on to the front of it. She has an Etsy store (although at the moment its virtual shelves are barren). In the video for "Where The Good Ones Go" she layers a sundress over pants, and she's surrounded by thrift store staples: a typewriter, a vintage suitcase, and mason jars filled with found objects. When she plays shows, she passes around a homemade tip jar covered in red fabric with small yellow apples patterned on it. Despite being from the other side of the country, Danielle seems an archetype for the sort of person you'd imagine sitting in a coffee shop in Brooklyn—writing in a journal, sketching in a notebook, or even knitting away the afternoon. You can envision her performing at the Brooklyn Flea in front of some repurposed barn doors with deliberately distressed blue paint.
♣ Appropriately, Danielle's second of two New York City shows was in a coffee shop nestled away on the corner of a block in the heartland of gentrified—or, nowadays, privileged—brownstone Brooklyn. But while the sound of an espresso machine brightly whistling while she played added a certain knowing ambiance to the night, having an art show open in the same venue an hour before her scheduled set meant that for the first four or five songs, she was forced to battle incessant chatter that sounded like the Brownstoner comments section come to life. (Who among us doesn't come to a show to overhear someone talking about the house they've just bought on 18th Street?) Danielle's voice is stronger and weightier than many an acoustic-hoisting singer-songwriter's, but this clash made for an irritating start to what should have been an intimate show.
♣ The idea of having to blot out part of the performance is common with Danielle, though. Her songs are gentle and tenderly written; she has a talent for making everyday scenes seem delicate and personal. "It's harder to get up on the right side of the bed these days/ But steps in snow make me feel less alone," she sings on the lovely "Afterwards," a request from one of the few girls in the audience not also wearing glasses, and the song that closed out her set. In "On The Planet Earth," a fragile lament to a departed love, she sings of rival girls who "know more about comic books than me."
♣ But Danielle—or Danielle Ate The Sandwich the brand, which boasts a merch line that includes stickers, badges, air fresheners, a clock, and even a foam finger—is also something of a YouTube celebrity. Her videos, most of which are filmed in and around her apartment, have a reputed 13 million views. (The story goes that she lucked out one day when one of her videos magically appeared on the video-sharing site's homepage.) They're nearly always prefaced by some usually unfunny banter (Danielle talking about the contents of her fridge) or contain some sort of quirky prop (a plastic chicken placed a little too studiously in the background). She's also posted a short comedic sketch that attempts to riff on a peculiar buyer responding to a Craigslist ad for a drum machine. Even accounting for the subjective nature of comedy, the elements that don't involve her songwriting and singing are so utterly unfunny they inspire both bemusement and outrage; it's like the twee version of rap skits.
♣ By couching her music in quirkiness, Danielle brings to mind those who use humor as a defense mechanism. On Saturday, "Handsome Girl," "Bribes," and the aforementioned tracks unraveled like especially personal songs that are deserving of being heard and related to on their own vulnerable merits—not because halfway through the show she decided to place a life-size cardboard cut-out of Justin Bieber next to her. (She also kissed the cut-out at one point.)
The bio on Danielle's website attempts to place her as "Joni Mitchell meets Sarah Silverman," but she's more accurately the inverse of Silverman, whose comedy is funny but whose songs (usually about poop) are not. The demands for maintaining Internet fame may explain a lot of the attempted comedy baggage, but most times you're left trying to block it out. Listening to her perform live in a Park Slope coffee shop involved a different kind of audio blinkers—although I still bought two CDs before leaving. One had a green button stitched on the front of it.
♣ Critical bias: The rude chatter from the art show attendees probably predisposed me against what was on the walls. .
♣ Overheard: [Sound of espresso being made]
Random notebook dump: 90% of the girls in the audience were also wearing thick-framed glasses. Demographics!
The Foolish Faith In Men
♣ Men have shaky, shaky definitions in Danielle Ate the Sandwich songs. They are questionable and sketchy. They are also given occasional passes and seen as something quite the opposite from the shitheads that they actually might be. If you've encountered one awful man, you've encountered 20. They're a dime a dozen. Somehow, even though there are shitty women too, their reputations get softened around the edges and there are pardons passed out all over the place. It's an understood absolute that there are a lot of bad guys out there, fellows who should not be trusted for anything in the world. They are going to, not just let you down, but they're going to dismantle you. They are going to reduce you - poor, trusting woman - into just another sad story. It might only be a short story, with a quick recovery and a reversal of fortune and temperament, but it will be sodden for at least a spell.
♣ Danielle Anderson, the woman behind the solo entity, writes about men as if they were the most human mythological creatures one could ever imagine. They're human, because they're men, but they're mythological because their failings are mostly looked upon as curiosities, with at least modest wonderment. On one hand, she's writing about knowing enough to stay away from the problem situations - the guys who are going to leave her sick to her stomach. Then, on the other hand, she writes about having something akin to a fountain of optimism, about keeping a light on and the home fires burning for a man whom she might or might not ever see again. She's not going to let him just go though. She's going to hold out some kind of home that he'll make a triumphant return and all of that good, sweet love will be restored to its earlier glory. She sings to this one man, "When you come home/You will be loved," and you're just left wondering what exactly it was that he did that was all that great, but you let it go, for she must have her reasons.
♣ An untitled song that begins the session talks about the resistance that she feels toward a man. She's refusing to be one of the women who's been loved by him. It's a big staying away party. Ultimately, the women that Anderson writes about in her somewhat peppy folk songs, are willing to give most of these men the benefit of the doubt, whether they deserve it or not. There are all kinds of reasons to get the hell away, but they linger and they often feel guilty for doing so, knowing that they're leading themselves directly into the fan. Anderson sings, "I put my faith in a man/I put the tools to build the trust I have for him right in his hands/And all the stone he carved/Gonna tell our story/I put my faith in a man," on "Faith In A Man," and there's no doubt that all will not be well.
♣ Words by Sean Moeller, Illustration by Johnnie Cluney, Recording engineered by Mike Gentry
Fortaken: http://www.daytrotter.com
Other press links:
- Buzzine January 2011
- Marquee Magazine July 2010
- Buzzine Sepember 2010
- April 2010 Denver Post
- July 2010 Denver Post
- Denver Westword September 2009
- Voted Westword Denver’s Best Singer-Songwriter of 2009
- Collegian April 2009
- Denver Westword Backbeat Online March 2009
- College Humor May 2009
- BoingBoing January 2009
Downtown Fort Collins, Colorado
The Oval, to this day a focal point of activity on campus; September 26, 2011 / Notes: The Fort Collins Public Library was established in 1900, the sixth public library in the state. The library formed a regional library district through a ballot measure in 2006. It has been renamed, Poudre River Public Library District. The Main Library is located in Old Town, with a second branch shared with Front Range Community College, the Harmony Library. A third branch, Council Tree Library, opened in March 2009 in the Front Range Village Shopping Center. The library also participates in innovative cooperative projects with the local school district and Colorado State University. Dennis Bigelow Jon Powers.
| Danielle Ate The Sandwich — Like A King (2012) |
Danielle Ate The Sandwich – Like A King
Location: Fort Collins, Colorado, U.S.
Album release: 2012
Record Label: Youngest Daughter Records
Runtime: 42:24
Tracklist:
01. Faith in a Man 2:50
02. Indiana 2:32
03. Like a King 3:32
04. Pet Store 3:20
05. Bright Flashes 3:02
06. The Have Nots 4:38
07. Women Who Loved You 2:58
08. Some Other Girl 3:21
09. What You Were 3:23
10. Evolution 3:07
11. Men I Never Knew 3:41
12. Letter to the President 2:53
13. When Our Parents Die 3:10
Website: http://danielleatethesandwich.com/
Contact:
Management:
303-477-6987
♣ Fan Mail:
PO Box 272978
Fort Collins, CO 80527
Bio
♣ Danielle Ate the Sandwich is the stage name of nationally-recognized independent folk musician and songwriter, Danielle Anderson. Danielle has shared the stage and collaborated with acts such as Pomplamoose, Lauren O’Connell, Leo Kottke and Mumford & Sons. Currently based in Fort Collins, Colorado, Danielle has toured nationally since 2009, playing for a loyal fan base of online followers. Her videos on youtube have gained millions of combined views and have given Danielle the opportunity to write and play music full time. Danielle Ate the Sandwich has recorded four albums. Her 2010 release, Two Bedroom Apartment, reached number 5 on iTunes’ top selling singer/songwriter charts. In June 2012, she will release a new, full length, studio album, Like A King.
♣ Denver's Westword describes Danielle as, cripplingly enchanting with lyrics telling the story of a generation coming of age in an age of uncertainty."
The Denver Post says, "Danielle Anderson is a tender singer-songwriter, a brazen humorist, a fearless young woman. Performing as Danielle Ate the Sandwich, Anderson wields a ukulele, a guitar and her own words to tell stories about people."
By Phillip Mlynar Mon., Sep. 12 2011 at 8:00 AM (http://blogs.villagevoice.com)
Danielle Ate The Sandwich
Red Horse Cafe
Saturday, September 10, 2011
Better than: Sitting through YouTube comedy sketches.
♣ Danielle Ate The Sandwich is a young woman in thick-rimmed glasses from Colorado. She plays acoustic guitar, and sometimes the ukulele. If you purchase her self-titled debut album, from 2007, it comes snugly tucked into a hand-crafted felt case with a button sewn on to the front of it. She has an Etsy store (although at the moment its virtual shelves are barren). In the video for "Where The Good Ones Go" she layers a sundress over pants, and she's surrounded by thrift store staples: a typewriter, a vintage suitcase, and mason jars filled with found objects. When she plays shows, she passes around a homemade tip jar covered in red fabric with small yellow apples patterned on it. Despite being from the other side of the country, Danielle seems an archetype for the sort of person you'd imagine sitting in a coffee shop in Brooklyn—writing in a journal, sketching in a notebook, or even knitting away the afternoon. You can envision her performing at the Brooklyn Flea in front of some repurposed barn doors with deliberately distressed blue paint.
♣ Appropriately, Danielle's second of two New York City shows was in a coffee shop nestled away on the corner of a block in the heartland of gentrified—or, nowadays, privileged—brownstone Brooklyn. But while the sound of an espresso machine brightly whistling while she played added a certain knowing ambiance to the night, having an art show open in the same venue an hour before her scheduled set meant that for the first four or five songs, she was forced to battle incessant chatter that sounded like the Brownstoner comments section come to life. (Who among us doesn't come to a show to overhear someone talking about the house they've just bought on 18th Street?) Danielle's voice is stronger and weightier than many an acoustic-hoisting singer-songwriter's, but this clash made for an irritating start to what should have been an intimate show.
♣ The idea of having to blot out part of the performance is common with Danielle, though. Her songs are gentle and tenderly written; she has a talent for making everyday scenes seem delicate and personal. "It's harder to get up on the right side of the bed these days/ But steps in snow make me feel less alone," she sings on the lovely "Afterwards," a request from one of the few girls in the audience not also wearing glasses, and the song that closed out her set. In "On The Planet Earth," a fragile lament to a departed love, she sings of rival girls who "know more about comic books than me."
♣ But Danielle—or Danielle Ate The Sandwich the brand, which boasts a merch line that includes stickers, badges, air fresheners, a clock, and even a foam finger—is also something of a YouTube celebrity. Her videos, most of which are filmed in and around her apartment, have a reputed 13 million views. (The story goes that she lucked out one day when one of her videos magically appeared on the video-sharing site's homepage.) They're nearly always prefaced by some usually unfunny banter (Danielle talking about the contents of her fridge) or contain some sort of quirky prop (a plastic chicken placed a little too studiously in the background). She's also posted a short comedic sketch that attempts to riff on a peculiar buyer responding to a Craigslist ad for a drum machine. Even accounting for the subjective nature of comedy, the elements that don't involve her songwriting and singing are so utterly unfunny they inspire both bemusement and outrage; it's like the twee version of rap skits.
♣ By couching her music in quirkiness, Danielle brings to mind those who use humor as a defense mechanism. On Saturday, "Handsome Girl," "Bribes," and the aforementioned tracks unraveled like especially personal songs that are deserving of being heard and related to on their own vulnerable merits—not because halfway through the show she decided to place a life-size cardboard cut-out of Justin Bieber next to her. (She also kissed the cut-out at one point.)
The bio on Danielle's website attempts to place her as "Joni Mitchell meets Sarah Silverman," but she's more accurately the inverse of Silverman, whose comedy is funny but whose songs (usually about poop) are not. The demands for maintaining Internet fame may explain a lot of the attempted comedy baggage, but most times you're left trying to block it out. Listening to her perform live in a Park Slope coffee shop involved a different kind of audio blinkers—although I still bought two CDs before leaving. One had a green button stitched on the front of it.
♣ Critical bias: The rude chatter from the art show attendees probably predisposed me against what was on the walls. .
♣ Overheard: [Sound of espresso being made]
Random notebook dump: 90% of the girls in the audience were also wearing thick-framed glasses. Demographics!
♣ Men have shaky, shaky definitions in Danielle Ate the Sandwich songs. They are questionable and sketchy. They are also given occasional passes and seen as something quite the opposite from the shitheads that they actually might be. If you've encountered one awful man, you've encountered 20. They're a dime a dozen. Somehow, even though there are shitty women too, their reputations get softened around the edges and there are pardons passed out all over the place. It's an understood absolute that there are a lot of bad guys out there, fellows who should not be trusted for anything in the world. They are going to, not just let you down, but they're going to dismantle you. They are going to reduce you - poor, trusting woman - into just another sad story. It might only be a short story, with a quick recovery and a reversal of fortune and temperament, but it will be sodden for at least a spell.
♣ Danielle Anderson, the woman behind the solo entity, writes about men as if they were the most human mythological creatures one could ever imagine. They're human, because they're men, but they're mythological because their failings are mostly looked upon as curiosities, with at least modest wonderment. On one hand, she's writing about knowing enough to stay away from the problem situations - the guys who are going to leave her sick to her stomach. Then, on the other hand, she writes about having something akin to a fountain of optimism, about keeping a light on and the home fires burning for a man whom she might or might not ever see again. She's not going to let him just go though. She's going to hold out some kind of home that he'll make a triumphant return and all of that good, sweet love will be restored to its earlier glory. She sings to this one man, "When you come home/You will be loved," and you're just left wondering what exactly it was that he did that was all that great, but you let it go, for she must have her reasons.
♣ An untitled song that begins the session talks about the resistance that she feels toward a man. She's refusing to be one of the women who's been loved by him. It's a big staying away party. Ultimately, the women that Anderson writes about in her somewhat peppy folk songs, are willing to give most of these men the benefit of the doubt, whether they deserve it or not. There are all kinds of reasons to get the hell away, but they linger and they often feel guilty for doing so, knowing that they're leading themselves directly into the fan. Anderson sings, "I put my faith in a man/I put the tools to build the trust I have for him right in his hands/And all the stone he carved/Gonna tell our story/I put my faith in a man," on "Faith In A Man," and there's no doubt that all will not be well.
♣ Words by Sean Moeller, Illustration by Johnnie Cluney, Recording engineered by Mike Gentry
Fortaken: http://www.daytrotter.com
Other press links: