This is a quiet form of entertainment.

Vashti Bun­yan’s per­for­mance at John­ny Bren­da’s had her seem­ing none the worse for wear, despite what’s been polite­ly termed a rau­cous evening at Carnegie Hall the night before, host­ed by David Byrne. Her piquant lul­la­bies sound­ed as crisp and pure as the cold night air, hush­ing an already rev­er­ent crowd. Con­sid­er­ing it was the first I’d heard Bun­yan, I found myself pleas­ant­ly sur­prised to find her music as much a touch­stone to today’s acid folkies as to Belle and Sebastian.

Most impor­tant­ly, Bun­yan expressed a skep­ti­cism that’s miss­ing from much of the cur­rent crop of folkies whose poseur pol­i­tics and ama­teur hour apoc­a­lyp­ti­cism I find hope­less­ly cyn­i­cal. When Bun­yan intro­duced her songs, she rou­tine­ly paused to qual­i­fy them either as dreams deferred, or as touch­ing trib­utes to her chil­dren. By putting her work in light of her own expe­ri­ences, it was a love­ly way to see how an artist can mature and be suc­cess­ful by admit­ting the imped­i­ments to their ambi­tions rather than let­ting that dis­ap­point­ment con­sume them.