If you’ve ever been to a show in Philadelphia, you’ve likely had a run-in with Kurt Vile. A dead ringer for Dave Mustaine, this young man has been haunting area clubs and local rock bins for as long as I can remember, slowly developing his craft via cassettes, seven-inchers and CD-Rs. He’s also a member of the band The War on Drugs, whose debut album is ready to explode on Secretly Canadian in a few weeks. So chances are this is Kurt’s year to shine.
Nowhere is this more apparent than on Constant Hitmaker(Gulcher, 2008), an unassuming collection of solo recordings that gets better every time I spin it. It’s been around for a few months, but no matter; have you heard of it? Thought so.
Our man Vile plays with a serious classic rock fixation in one hand and an accomplished hometaper vibe in the other–think Springsteen at his loosest, mitigated with the sort of songcraft you’d expect to hear out of Anton Newcombe or Robert Pollard, and you’re close to the stonewashed, hazy green pallor effusing from this disc. Vile’s got a valid claim on the “hitmaker” status, as the disc rolls out one lazy anthem after gorgeously finger-picked ballad after synthesizer cloud after psych-lounge jammer after another, and keeps the party of one raging for the interpolated duration of a lazy, sunny afternoon. Crawling with percussive loops, reverberated vocals, drum machines, and other tools usually considered crutches to obscure a lack of talent, Vile’s songwriting style is incredibly nuanced for the sort of no-budget action he’s after, actually using all the tools to his advantage. The seasoned comfort displayed within his general sound palette is quite telling of the years he’s been chasing this dream. There are no obvious reaches towards a time period or unoriginal copycattin’ present here. This is his music, his voice, and he’s proud to bring it out on display. You’ll likely be as pleased to encounter it.
What I’m getting at, essentially, is that there’s a lot of anonymous crap floating around out there, with a handful of gems among the detritus. Kurt Vile has managed to pack this particular disc so tightly you’ll have trouble choosing a favorite.
