I know...Yesterday's post was supposed to be a review of Philadelphia musician Kurt Vile that turned into a two part series that was never intended to be. Sometimes, a guy just needs an excuse to bash Anton Newcomb and Brian Jonestown Massacre, even though no one has ever cared about them except the three or four idiots on Dig! who compared Anton to fucking Jesus Christ!
Anyway, this 2006 Kurt Vile EP has eight songs, and the name of the songs and the EP I can't remember because I don't have the cd at work. It doesn't matter anyway, because they only sell it at AKA Records and I bought the last copy. You'll never get your hands on it. Before you cry, remember I walked a long ass way to get it .
On this EP, Kurt Vile executes a simple lo-fi formula: Acoustic and clean-toned electric guitar strumming, some drum machine backing, a bit of ghostly keyboards, and reverb-drenched vocals. On one "jawn", Vile shows off his acoustic finger-picking style, and he is badass wit' it.
Vile is a decent singer and knows how to craft a vocal melody, which in today's indie environment, is like uncovering the fucking dead sea scrolls. He is a lazy singer, though, which sometimes makes him sound like he is phoning his vocals in from a traditional "landline" as they used to call them. As for the lyrics, they include some images like "alligator suit" and "pile of shit", so you can't go wrong.
Overall, it is a great album for the Fall. Fall, as you know, is a season that no longer exists.
By all means, check out this guy's live performances. They include blisteringly loud, wall-of-sound freak-outs that go well with a bowl. I don't if these songs were real when I saw them, or if Vile was just trying to scare the Penn kids away. The editorial staff at the Tweener certainly enjoyed them.
Anyway, although Vile tends to be a Philebrity favorite, he is often overshadowed by the bands he is associated with, like The War on Drugs and Relay. This is because he is most likely a chill cat who not concerned by fame, but in reality, I have no fucking clue. All that matters, however, is that he is a hell of a lot better than Anton Newcomb. Take that San Francisco/Portland.
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