Kurt Vile's songs have always felt like they start in the middle of the story, and his 10th album, Philadelphia's Been Good to Me, is no exception. The Philadelphia guitarist and songwriter opens the record in his characteristic laid-back style, mumbling through the moment: 'Smoke on my lip / I wrote a song / Some people said / I was doin’ it wrong.' His plainspoken warble is as familiar as the taste of Coca-Cola or the smell of a summer thunderstorm.
An Elder Statesman of Indie Rock
At 46, Vile is an elder statesman of indie rock, and this album relies on that status. He doesn't put on airs or sound like he's performing for an audience. The album never labors its points or trades in radical departures. It is, emphatically, a Kurt Vile record—loose, lush, ambling, aimless, and deeply poetic.
Vile broke out in the early 2010s with a trilogy of records—Smoke Ring for My Halo (2011), Wakin on a Pretty Daze (2013), and B'lieve I'm Goin Down ... (2015)—that established him as one of indie rock's most beloved figures: the long-haired stoner-philosopher quietly pumping out virtuosic but unbothered music. Although never as flashy as peers like Arcade Fire or Grizzly Bear, Vile has maintained consistency while refining his dirtbag shaman image.
Forward-Thinking Sound
On Philadelphia's Been Good to Me, Vile sounds as great as ever and more formally forward-thinking. On tracks like 99th Song and Holiday OKV, he emerges as a jangle-pop Steve Reich, scatting over subtly changeable loops. 99th Song is named for his loop pedal's 99-loop limit, and he turns that into a blissful exploration of aging as a married father of two: 'Got love in my life and three girls by my side / I’m holdin’ it down and takin’ it slow.' Holiday OKV is a nervy referendum on his chill sensibility: 'I dream big, bomb hard, crash’n’burn, took a nose dive / Man, it feels so good to be alive.'
Vile says he's treating this album as if it were his last, and it has an air of omniscient wisdom. It's enhanced by warm backing vocals from musicians like Natalie Hoffmann (of Memphis punk band Nots) and longtime collaborator Jesse Trbovich. On the ramshackle blues of 99 BPM, he reminisces about making music with friends in a time that 'was 2012, but it felt like 2014.' The title track lingers on tour stops in Baltimore and homecomings to the Schuylkill River.
Existential Undertones
Behind every rose-colored reminiscence is a looming sense of finality. Exhaustion seeps into the sweet groove of Rock o' Stone, while Every Time I Look at You admits 'I flew close to the sun / And I had a whole lotta fun,' as if written with the remove of someone looking back on brighter days. Vile's music has always been about existence, but it's rarely been this existential. Combined with hypnotic, elliptical structures, it creates a stark sense of unease. His voice sounds chill and comforting, but it belies deep dread this time.
Is that due to politics, aging, or the climate crisis? Vile would never let you know, preferring to let images shape like tea leaves. The only certainty is his music. The album's final line: 'You know what I mean, and you know the way I roll.' He assumes that's a comfort—and rightly so.
Philadelphia's Been Good to Me is released on 29 May.
