Kurt Vile live review: a smooth Glastonbury send-off
While it might seem peculiar to begin a live review by remarking on the number of people in the audience with curly hair, it was so extraordinary that it would simply be remiss of me not to open with the observation. Wether or not there is an anomaly in Sapien biology that correlates curls with a propensity to like Kurt Vile that is yet to have been picked up by the human genome project remains to be seen, but it was certainly apparent within the Boiler Shop’s hallowed walls, packed out with crust-eaters.
This is perhaps the observation of someone used to midweek gigs, playing the pre-gig game of guessing how the audience will look and whether they resemble your prejudice, and, maybe more importantly someone padding for content well aware of a 06:00 journey off to Glastonbury in the morning. However, if curls are somehow synonymous with being laidback then the audience were more than fitting for the sound on offer.
Following the impressive loud-quiet ways of the support band King Hannah, Kurt Vile & The Violators waltzed out on stage with all the polish and urgency of grubby teenage slugs on their way to the mall for a day of nought. But with charisma and skill, they showcased in a swaying fashion that just a bit of gentle nodding appreciation from an audience can be a pleasant thing to embark upon.
Then came the gaffe of all gaffes, after the tender solo recital of ‘Blackberry Song’, Vile proudly proclaimed, “Hey, this is our first time in Nottingham, and we’re sorry we haven’t been here sooner.” …They were playing Newcastle. Whether this was actually an intentional bit remains to be seen, but it served to break the ice, amplifying things beyond the mellow beginnings.
When you’ve been reviewing shows for a while, you come to find that that the true mark of any gig is how many t-shirts start flying out of the merch stand after halfway. Well, after a blistering rendition of ‘Wakin on a Pretty Day’, Vile’s stall was suddenly besieged like Black Friday at Curry’s. I know I certainly bought a cracker for my other half amid the blissful melee of wailing guitars.
And then, in the karma of the universe, I was granted my reward: to close the show, Vile & The Violators happily announced that they would be covering one of the greatest songs of the 1990s – and a personal all time favourite – ‘Punks in the Beerlight’ by the mighty Silver Jews. Testimony to how smoothly the gig had progressed, Vile and his band were able to rattle the rafters with the same stunning guitar work that they had exhibited throughout in a fitting tribute to the late, great Dave Berman.
This adrenalised finale typified the masterly way that the band were able to lean away from their luscious mainstay and grab a few short and curlies in moments of exultation throughout. In the process, they confirmed that while some might have thought his mellifluous music was more fitting for a sunny Saturday morning than midweek in a big old converted warehouse, Vile and his first-rate band proved that all good music is good live music.
