Wakin on a Pretty Daze

Its ambrosial melodies and austere instrumentation edify his canon of work, which has long been rewarding for its risky sensibilities and perseverance. Yet that’s what makes Wakin so curious; it’s Vile’s most derivative record to date.

The 11 songs collected here are all among the very best of his career, enlivened with a vividness and warmth that offers something new with every repeated listen.

It's a tough, late-night, soul-searching kind of process that Kurt Vile signed up for here. It's a testament to his talent that he takes it so seriously, but makes it all sound effortless. [May 2013, p.61]

With any luck, Wakin On A Pretty Daze will go down as a document to the workman he really is.

Wakin on a Pretty Daze breezes past like a Klonopin dream, and radiates an easy confidence that is as rewarding to return to as a melody.

On Daze, Vile’s amorphous, ambient drones continue to solidify into sharp shapes with defined edges.

His fifth one feels light as smoke, with happily strummed melodies that drift past the eight-minute mark. [12 Apr 2013, p.72]

Wakin On A Pretty Daze comes into focus with context, though, as does any accomplished record.

Daze demands time in order to fully appreciate it, promising new discoveries with successive listens.

Vile’s drawl communicates isolation with a contradictory urgency. Somehow, Pretty’s spiritual resignation sounds like an invitation.

It's clear that Vile still has great ambition to make robust, timeless rock--and the songs to back it up. [No. 97, p.60]

Despite the length of the album, it’s gratifying to cup your hands over your eyes and squint into Vile’s self-effacing and self-reflexive world. There’s something invigorating about hearing a mind loop back on itself in constant pursuit of a question it never even knew it asked.

Even when he's so amiably out-of-focus, Vile's melodies remain vivid, his wanders never self-indulgent. [May 2013, p.86]

This doesn't veer wildly in style from Vile's previous four--he still sounds like a stoned Springsteen singing from the bottom of a well--but his songwriting reaches a mesmeric peak. [May 2013, p.112]

While topping Smoke Ring outright nearly seemed insurmountable, Daze is (at an impossibly neat 70 minutes) a larger, more diverse and heavier experience.

Wakin' on a Pretty Daze is one of those rare examples of an artist’s uninhibited self-indulgence resulting in an LP which plays firmly to their strengths.

Wakin’ On A Pretty Daze strikes with a gust of pent up emotions, a trailblazing record that openly affirms a personal accountability for self without slipping into heavy-handedness.

While Wakin On A Pretty Daze may not be an anthemic leap forward, it is in many ways even stronger for its existence as example of a craft being so finely honed.

Taking his time, as much of the album does, is no bad thing when the melodies are this compelling.

There’s also clarity in the lyrics--some of his most direct yet.

He certainly has our attention.

His most assured record to date, this is also the Philadelphia rocker's most purely pleasurable.

Hints of Lou Reed (the phrasing) and Neil Young (the guitar solos) pepper songs that Philadelphia-born Vile invests with his slacker drawl, endearing quiet charm and wry self-mockery.

Vile’s laconic drawl and laid-back guitar heroics are so addictively blissful that eight or nine minutes don’t feel like enough.

Easily his most focused and accessible work, Pretty Daze is the strongest so far in a chain of releases that seem to suggest there are even greater heights to be reached.

Despite its length and moments of lyrical self-loathing, Wakin' neither bores nor depresses.

It may take a little longer to get in to, but it’s entirely possible that once you’re immersed in Wakin’ On A Pretty Daze, you might be happy never to surface.

By the time the album closes on the warm, wandering "Goldtone," Vile and the listener remain dazed and confused, but smiling.

With Wakin On A Pretty Daze, Vile has added another seemingly effortless 70 minutes’ worth of straightforward, easygoing golden tones to his consistent discography.

Vile sounds refreshed on some of these songs, made new again, and while that’s invigorating to see in a career that’s harvested so much from alleged indifference, a brighter songwriting style gives Wakin’ on a Pretty Daze a surprisingly conflicted sound.

Vile could have chopped most of these songs in half and they would have worked just fine, but the overall effect wouldn't have been so blissfully druggy.

Its meandering ways may endear or annoy in equal measure, but it’s hard to argue that there is a consistency or pure quality to see this album rank alongside its illustrious predecessor.

Kurt Vile's sweetly slack fifth LP kicks in with a nine-and-a-half-minute song about taking a walk, hits peak stoner wonder in a song called "Air Bud" and fills in the spaces with trank-darted Dinosaur Jr. licks.

The lack of immediacy isn't Vile's biggest problem here: it might seem trivial, but Wakin On A Pretty Daze is his first release that doesn't improve upon his last.

The songs of his that have stood out most are the ones that at least try to meet the listener halfway, the ones that betray the deep-seeded enthusiasm underlying Vile’s laid-back, stoner(-esque — he’s a family guy, now) cool. While such material can still be found on Wakin on a Pretty Daze, locating it is becoming more and more of a chore.