I first saw Kurt Vile perform almost a year and a half ago at Europa, and the entire experience remains vivid in my memory. It was a solo performance -- no drums, no electric guitar, and of course, no roadie. Vile sat on a tall stool, placed precariously on the edge of a makeshift stage in the corner of the room, alone with his acoustic guitar in the dim, blue/green light. Fed through an amp with near-excess reverb, both his voice and guitar cut powerfully through the din of this crowded bar.
He barely looked up once the entire set, at least I don't think he did. In fact, Vile's long locks remained frozen before his face, foiling any attempt to ascertain his demeanor in the moment. Regardless, the intensity with which he performed far surpassed any countenance available in mankind's repertoire, evoking well-earned respect from every cross-armed, plaid-wearing Brooklynite who remained riveted by this unassuming Pied Piper before them. He played a short set of only five songs, though this was four more than necessary to transform even the harshest critic in attendance into a giddy schoolgirl. By the time the following band, Fucked Up, took to the stage, the already-atrophied crowd's appetite had been satisfied. I managed to stay for the first two songs of their set before I wandered off into the Brooklyn night, enchanted.
I have yet to see another musician match Kurt Vile's commanding presence that I witnessed that night. Part of this is due to his remarkable poise on stage, while the other is due to his exceptional musicianship and the very songs themselves. I can only offer a brief taste of the latter, of course. Nonetheless, if you do have a chance to see him perform live, I guarantee you will not be disappointed.
Albums: Smoke Ring for My Halo (2011), Childish Prodigy (2009), Constant Hitmaker (2008)
Tracks: Baby's Arms, Jesus Fever, Freak Train, Blackberry Song, Monkey, Freeway
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