In a world where artistic boundaries often blur, Allan Lewis stands as a unique creative force. The London, Ontario, artist moves fluidly between photography and music, earning recognition from the Ontario Arts Council and London Arts Council for his evocative visual work while crafting raw, authentic indie rock under the moniker Van der Saar. His artistic vision seamlessly bridges these mediums, finding beauty and meaning in both the visual stillness of everyday moments and the dynamic soundscapes of his musical compositions. We were excited to ask Allan a few questions about the music. Check it out below!
The term 'welter-fi' keeps coming up when people describe your sound. What's the story behind that, and how'd you land on this particular style?
Early VdS stuff was recorded on a four-track cassette recorder. The recordings aren't great, but they're what I could manage. I’ve gotten better at recording myself since then, but there’s always a little something that's off: cymbals sound weird; something’s out of tune or crackling. Some of it is that I don’t know enough to fix it; some of it is in the performances, and some of it is just me, which is cool.
Van der Saar will never be a polished, hi-fi studio thing, but it isn't lo-fi anymore. 'Welter-fi' feels like good middle ground. It used to be a throwaway term, but I like it now; it makes sense for what the project wants to be.
You've got this really interesting dual life as both a photographer and musician. Do these two worlds ever collide in your creative process? I'm curious about your photography work and if it seeps into how you approach songwriting.
Photography and music stay separate in practice, but they do bleed into each other. I'll often listen to demos or mixes while I'm editing photos. That's a time when my brain is pretty pliable and can handle a few things going on at once. There are lots of openings for ideas to get worked on in the background when I'm doing that kind of thing.
The reverse is true when I'm writing or recording. I'll take a break and go for a wander with a camera, even if I don't take any pictures. Just being out and looking for things and seeing things can be a nice leveler.
We're loving 'Truck Flattener.' Tell us about writing it and how you tap into your unique musical vibe.
Most musicians can relate to a song starting with one main idea that gets taken over by other ideas as it gets worked on. That happened with 'Truck Flattener'. The clean part at the start was the primary riff. But once that longer set of sustained guitar notes came into play, the clean part got sent to the bench.
From there, the song had a meaner, less dreamy feel. The sustain on those guitar parts was hard to manage, so the feedback came naturally. I borrowed the driving feel of the bassline from 'Hard Rain' by Shout Out Louds. If you ever need to convince yourself that tonight's the night, throw that tune on: it makes zero mistakes, and neither will you.
You're handling all the instruments and production yourself. What's that process like building these songs from the ground up?
The process is slow—I take forever. There’s a lot of problem-solving when you're on your own, and in my case, a lot of guessing, too. Recording alone can make you feel like you're wasting a roster spot—like you're totally useless. The intent is there. You want things to go well, but they don't because, at that moment, you’re really bad at all the things you’re trying to do. And then a few days later, you nail something, and everything’s amazing, and you feel like one of the cool kids again. That latter feeling is the reward.
Let's talk about Knights. There's a real vibe to this EP—what was happening in your life while you were putting it together?
Life is mostly good, but like everyone, I go through things. I’ve also watched people go through a lot of stuff lately. I'm not talking about desperate, horrible, dark shit, but middle-aged, middle-class life shit that can still be big and heavy. I’m raising kids and going to work, which means a ton of stop/start moments, so my energy and attention already move in odd directions. And, of course, I'm reflecting on everything that's happening, and these reflections pile up in my head.
So when weird life shit comes at you, a four-on-the-floor dance outro can start making a ton of sense. Sometimes I think of the weirdest things when I’m putting songs together. Random people I haven’t thought of in forever will pop into my head and stay for a visit. I'm like, "Why are you here?" and then they end up being part of the tune, and it's kind of like they're lingering, eating shit out of my fridge without asking, "Sorry dude, you're stuck with me."