An Open Fan Letter To Donavon Frankenreiter

Oh, Donavon (Frankenreiter),

I don’t even care how, well . . . toasted you seemed at the Commodore on Tuesday night during your aptly titled Pass It Around show. There’s something about the way you play a guitar and sing those sandy, sun-kissed tunes that makes me long for a summer drive to Long Beach; and the vibe in the room was just so warm and happy. From the soothing slices of tropical-hued beach tunes from your eponymous first album, through the funkier ’70s-flavoured tracks from Move By Yourself, and back to the mellow on Pass it Around (especially those poppy horn hooks in the song Your Heart) I — and everybody else on that famous dance floor — was digging it.

I like your pal Gary Jules too. We were thinking we’d just skip the opening act (headed to Salt for killer cheese and wine combos) but he came on late and I’m glad for it. Like everyone else in the room we talked through his first couple of songs, until we started to hear them, and then we were inexplicably drawn closer to the stage to listen to his stripped-down folk-rock.

On this night anyway, the crowd spilling out onto Granville Street at the end of the show was a shiny, happy bunch.

Thanks for that.

Yours truly,

Deana

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Deana Lancaster is an authentic pop culture vulture who will cop to an addiction to EW.com that is as insatiable as those she has for all things gourmet, great shoes, cool tunes and the Huffington Post. A 12-year staffer at the North Shore News, she serves as the paper’s food & wine editor, features editor, and dabbles in some selective freelancing. If she’s not at her computer, she’s likely hanging with her family — or depending on the season — surfing at Long Beach or snowboarding Cypress.

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