ALBUM REVIEW: KURT VILE - WAKIN' ON A PRETTY DAZE

Matador Records released the single to Wakin’ on a Pretty Daze in February when I was in Berlin with the flu and running a fever. I had a sea of mucus in my respiratory system. It was gross. But Kurt Vile got me through it. The single and first track off the 2013 album, “Wakin’ on a Pretty Day,” is almost seven minutes long. It’s broken up into acts, with long guitar solos in between. Sometimes when I listen to it, I hear a very subtle change in tempo halfway through the second break, and I love that imperfection, even if I’m the only one who hears it. The guitars on the track are mesmerizing. There’s one acoustic guitar, three electrics, an electric 12 string, and a bass. The combination of all the electric guitars makes the sound so heavy you almost want to drown in it, or at least wrap it around you like a quilt while you nurse yourself back to health. 

Wakin' on a Pretty Day

There are thirteen musicians on the record, including Farmer Dave Scher of Beachwood Sparks, who plays his famous lapsteel on four tracks. Mary Lattimore, who sometimes plays with Thurston Moore, plays harp on “Pure Pain.” Jennifer Herrema from Black Bananas and RTX sings backing vocals on “Too Hard,” and Warpaint’s Emily Kokal sings backing vocals on the final track, “Goldtone.” Vile’s never had such a female presence on vox before, and I’m really into it, especially since the album is saturated in a fuzzy wah wah garage hue. 

I don’t really care that Kurt Vile stopped smoking pot or doesn’t do drugs and is trying to be a family man now with his two adorable daughters and wife of ten years. His music is as penetrating as ever, and as long as that keeps up, Kurt can do whatever he wants because it’s clearly not affecting the caliber of lyrics flowing out of him. His language is still vulnerably accessible and relatable. Like in “Wakin’ on a Pretty Day,” he explains, “to be frank, I’m fried, but I don’t mind.” Such simple words. Who cares if he’s actually talking about being fried out of his mind stoned or what, and then the line, “livin low, lackadaisically so,” sung in a molasses drawl. I get it. And I love it. It’s chill. Kurt Vile doesn’t give two shits.

There are some songs on the album that don’t quite get my attention at first, like “Was All Talk.” Kurt uses a keyboard on the track, and sequencers and extra percussion. It’s fast paced, not as organic as I like Kurt to sound, but the melodies, done by Farmer Dave, are spot on. And Kurt’s voice trails off the beat, which again adds that gummy-drop topping of imperfection I love. 

I first listened to Kurt Vile on my birthday. My boyfriend at the time played "Society is My Friend" for me on youtube, eager to see my reaction, and we listened to the track all day, all the way to the Route 66 style diner he took me to off Spring St. downtown near the Broadway bridge, and then all the way back to his house. We had sex up against the wall in the hallway while Kurt bellowed, “he makes me lie down, in a cool blood bath.” But I never fully appreciate music unless I’m the one who discovers it. It’s my little brat sister mentality I get about somethings sometimes, and it wasn’t until we had broken up that I started listening to Kurt Vile like an obsessed teenager. I thankfully limited myself to audio obsession and didn’t cut out his face from every magazine I could get my hands on and tape them up with lipstick kisses all over my pretend adult house. 

My favorite song on the record by far is “Never Run Away.” The song is the most simple on the album, with only Kurt on guitars and Stella Mozgawa on drums. There’s a part where his voice does this jump thing, and he repeats the word “hey” in sharp staccato. It’s perfect. And the song is more or less about Kurt Vile growing up, how he used to be a wild child but now he’s okay, and he doesn’t need dope to cope (my favorite rhyme). He’s ready for life now. Get it Kurt. 

“Shame Chamber” is also excellent. The opening guitar is very Neil Young, and his voice is more drawly and unintelligible than it usually is, more rock and roll. And then the chords change to a nice, happy major, bright and uplifting, as he sings, “Shame on you, shame on you.” And then he yells. Not once, but a couple times. His shout is victorious, proud of his obstacle. The song is about facing shame every day because of inadequacies, self-doubt, feelings of insecurity and self-deprecation. But the song is hopeful, steady. There’s a good ending to this story. Because that’s what life is. A few stumbles, a couple loud barks at the universe for fucking up your life, and then acceptance. Like a weird three step program to get over it. And Kurt’s yelling, which reminds me of Guy Blakeslee from the Entrance Band, mixed with Rob Laakso’s barritone just kills me. 

I think that Kurt Vile’s music only continues to get better. Even the obscure stuff, like God Is Saying This To You..., he’s not all there yet. On Constant Hitmaker, his first full length, he's at his most experimental. The songs have sweet interludes, alternating tempos, something I get on a Sabbath album where there are two moods within one track, two stories being told as one. The album is intentionally lo-fi in sound, and by his own account, was a learning process. Childish Prodigy, Kurt's first album on Matador Records, and his first album to feature the Violators, his backing band, is much more mature than his first, but still features some home recordings and feels unbalanced, with a couple songs that stand out ("Hunchback" is a fucking knock out), and others simply there as down-filled cushions to fall back on. Smoke Ring For My Halo came out in 2011, and stunned everyone. The album as a whole is mellow, somber even, the perfect soundtrack to a shitty day. Wakin' on a Pretty Daze follows in that regard but brings so much more to the table, so many more instruments, so much more thought and intent and control.

It's true. Kurt Vile is no longer a party guy. You wont find him in the bathroom before a set snorting lines off the toilet paper dispenser. And it makes me wonder, did it take his happy family and the discovery that there’s more to life than partying and doing drugs and fucking up to really get that creativity out of him? Ironic that my favorite song off the record is about growing up. Kurt, welcome to adulthood. Stay as long as you like.