Kurt Vile Albums Ranked

Kurt Vile is a vibe, man. He’s been broadcasting delightfully stoned transmissions from Planet KV every couple of years since 2008, but if you can’t tap into the frequency, none of his albums are going to sway you. If you are tuned in, though, there’s a treasure trove to dig through. While he’s never made the same album twice, Vile’s discography is best understood as slight variations to his classic recipe—spiraling guitars, sprawling run times, and semi-spoken musings about family life and the universe. Your mileage may vary album-to-album depending on which strain you prefer, but no matter where you start, it’s worth rolling up and following him down the rabbit hole.

10. God Is Saying This to You (2009)

God Is Saying This to You comes in last place almost by default, since it’s the shortest Kurt LP by some measure. Hot on the heels of Constant Hitmaker and released just months before his Matador debut, God… fills a stopgap role in Kurt’s discography more so than standing on its own as an album. With that said, what’s here is pretty pimpin’. There are plenty of short noise transmissions reminiscent of Constant Hitmaker, plus a couple of quietly stunning acoustic pieces (“My Sympathy” and “Songs for John in D”) that cut through the fog.

9. Childish Prodigy (2009)

KV’s big break came with Childish Prodigy, which distinguishes itself right out of the gate as a fuller, meatier, noisier collection than either of his previous collections of home demo recordings. Of all his albums, Childish Prodigy is the only one that crunches and lurches—it’s heavy, and not really a sound he revisited ever since. While the overall mood isn’t typically what draws me to Kurt’s albums, the highlights are among his best. “Overnight Religion” and “Blackberry Song” are gentle previews to what would fully blossom on Smoke Ring for My Halo, and then there’s “Freak Train”, which sounds akin to the distorted pop that contemporaries Deerhunter were making at the time. It’s an impressive semi-debut for sure, and the fact that it sits so low on this list has more to do with the heights Vile would scale moving forward than a lack of quality here.

8. Back to Moon Beach EP (2023)

Let’s take a moment to acknowledge KV’s EPs, many of which contain his best material. Square Shells? Maybe the best collection he’s ever made. Is “(So Outta Reach)”, the title track from his 2011 EP, his best song? Quite possibly! These interstitial releases are important connective tissue across Kurt’s discography. Back to Moon Beach EP, however, is decidedly not an EP, despite its name. Kurt may have titled it as such, but his most recent release is longer than Lotta Sea Lice, and it’s longer than Smoke Ring for my Halo. Listen through Moon Beach, though, and it’s clearer why KV doesn’t think of this as an album—it comes across as a collection of loosies from the last several years more than a coherent statement. Some of that is attributable to the bonus tracks: a Christmas song, a Wilco cover, and an alternate edit of a previously released album track. The thing is, they’re all fantastic. While Moon Beach doesn’t hold together as an album, it’s just one winning tune after another, from lackadaisical opener “Good Year for the Roses” (which would’ve fit nicely on any of his previous 3-4 albums) to the spacey centerpiece, “Beach on the Moon”.

7. Bottle It In (2018)

Kurt Vile was coming off a hell of a hot streak in 2018, having released a trio of acclaimed albums that hold up to just about any classic run in the last 20-ish years. Bottle It In carries forward the sound he’d been honing over the past decade, but unlike those previous few albums, it finds Kurt in a rangier, more exploratory place. He recorded the album over a couple of years in several different sessions, and that’s reflected in the finished product. There are rambling highlights that shoot straight down the (decidedly stoned) middle (“Bassackwards” and “One Trick Ponies”), but the best tracks here are the ones where Kurt and his collaborators push each other into new territory. “Bottle It In” is, in Kurt’s own words, a spiritual jazz piece, loping and looping across nearly 11 minutes with harp accompaniment from Mary Lattimore. Best of all is “Mutinies”, with psychedelic synths wheezing in and out of focus until the song reaches its feedback-laden climax, courtesy of a noise solo by Kim Gordon. Not all of the experiments work quite as well, but Bottle It In is distinct as a spiritual, searching entry in KV’s catalog that reveals new angles every time you listen to it.

6. Lotta Sea Lice (2017)

This delightful—and delightfully low stakes—collaboration between Kurt and Australian slack rocker Courtney Bartnett goes down easier than anything else he’s ever made. Bringing Courtney into the fold as a true collaborator gives both of their strengths ample opportunity to shine through, and the musical chemistry is undeniable. The context here brings out new sides of each artist’s songwriting: whereas their respective solo work so often sounds like one side of a conversation (or someone getting stuck in their own head), here they trade bars back and forth like two friends having a chat on overlapping tour stops. The opening two tracks, “Over Everything” and “Let It Go”, showcase just how potent the new approach is, and songs that would come across as either too goofy (“Blue Cheese”) or too simple (a straightforward cover of Belly’s “Untogether”) on solo records become unexpected gems when tackled as duets. A one-off that hopefully doesn’t remain a one-off, Lotta Sea Lice is a winner that leaves you wanting more.

5. Constant Hitmaker (2008)

Constant Hitmaker rolls over you like a thick cloud of smoke. Nearly every strength that Vile would explore on his next handful of albums—the alien intermissions of God Is Saying This to You, the harsh noise edges of Childish Prodigy, the working class Americana lullabies of Smoke Ring for My Halo—are evident. And for what’s essentially a compilation of home demos recorded over several years, Constant Hitmaker is shockingly of a piece. While definitely more rudimentary in its sound than his studio efforts, there’s a lo-fi charm on display here that makes the highlights (“Space Forklift”, “Don’t Get Cute”, “Freeway In Mind”) feel that much more personal. No one who listened to Constant Hitmaker in 2008 could’ve predicted where Kurt’s career would take him, except for maybe Kurt himself: in hindsight, those classic rock references throughout read like a statement of ambition.

4. Wakin on a Pretty Daze (2013)

If Smoke Ring for My Halo was Kurt’s big step up, Wakin on a Pretty Daze was his big flex. The success of that 2011 album brought KV more listeners and attention than he’d ever had before, and for the follow-up, he decided to formalize a backing band (the Rob Laakso-featuring Violators) and aim for a more collaborative-sounding record. From the opening strums, Wakin is a fuller-sounding, warm, rich record. It’s also expansive—six of the 11 songs are over six minutes long, with two of them pushing the 10-minute mark. That sense of grandeur is the album’s greatest strength, with each song being given the room it needs to breathe and tunnel deep into the groove. Each track feels essential, from the propulsive “Was All Talk” to the swirling closing statement of purpose, “Goldtone”. Best of all is the deep cut “Girl Called Alex”, a tender ode to friends you’ve lost touch with. There's a strong case to be made for Wakin as the best entry point for Kurt neophytes—if you’ve never listened to one of his albums, start here.

3. (watch my moves) (2022)

Quarantine was good to Kurt Vile, which should come as a surprise to absolutely no one. Kurt’s whole thing is sounding lost in the clouds and content with family life, and COVID lockdowns afforded him the chance to stay in his sweet spot for an indefinite amount of time. For that reason, (watch my moves) sounds the most home-cooked of any of Kurt’s albums since Childish Prodigy, a refreshing return to his comfort zone after the wandering explorations of Bottle It In. It also means that (watch my moves) is maybe the Kurt Vile-est Kurt Vile record. “Flyin’ Like a Fast Train”, “Like Exploding Stones” and “Chazzy Don’t Mind” are all stream-of-consciousness ramblers that gently swirl around with no real destination in mind (in a good way). The album also has some of his best song songs since Smoke Ring for My Halo—”Jesus on a Wire”, “Hey Like a Child” and “Cool Water” are as straightforward as anything Bruce Springsteen ever wrote, which makes the inclusion of a Bruce Springsteen cover (“Wages of Sin”) seem all the more appropriate. Leaning into his quirks and his strengths in equal measure, (watch my moves) bodes well for Kurt’s longevity.

2. Smoke Ring for My Halo (2011)

Smoke Ring for My Halo marks the point where Kurt’s songwriting and production snapped clearly into focus. Compared to the thick, cloudy haze of his first few albums, the production on Smoke Ring is positively crystalline. But instead of sanding the interesting edges off his work, the newfound clarity allows the performances and lyrics to shine through. “Baby’s Arms” is just as languid as any of Kurt’s previous singles, but the aquatic, looping percussion and angelic background vocals elevate it to something you could reasonably describe as swoon-worthy. Smoke Ring is also a deeply relaxed album, especially compared to the harsh noise that colored Childish Prodigy. That Tom Petty-esque mellow makes for career highlights on cuts like “Jesus Fever” and “In My Time”, though to be honest, every track here is a highlight. It’s telling that each Kurt album since Smoke Ring for My Halo basically follows the formula he set here—why mess with a good thing when it’s this good?

1. B’lieve I’m Goin Down (2015)

I don’t b’lieve it, and neither should you. KV hit his commercial peak in 2015 with lead single “Pretty Pimpin’”, and for my money, its home album represents his artistic peak as well. B’lieve doesn’t mess with the formula too much—same ol’ Kurt, same ol’ vibe—but every piece of the album locks perfectly into place. Coming on the heels of Wakin on a Pretty Daze, B’lieve feels more grounded. It also feels vaguely country-ish, a byproduct of the desert setting where most of the album was recorded. You can hear the horizon, hot and distant, shaping the scope of each song. And speaking of the songs…damn. They’re overall shorter and punchier than those on Wakin, but they’re also the best he’s ever written. The middle stretch of the album in particular, from the peyote-tinged psychedelia of “That’s Life tho (almost hate to say)” through the solo acoustic stunner “All in a Daze Work”, is the best back-to-back-to-back run of any Kurt record. Buried in there is the best song he’s ever made, the conversational, loping “Life Like This”. Over a gently galloping beat, Vile sings in a call and response with himself about the quiet contentment that comes with noticing your life. It’s a transcendent moment on a transcendent album, one of the best of the 2010s and one that Vile has yet to best.

press photo by Lance Bangs