Day 54: Courtney Barnett & Kurt Vile — Lotta Sea Lice
Courtney Barnett and Kurt Vile make excellent collaborative partners because they both are relatively unassuming musicians who know how to put great songs together without exerting too much effort. It’s no surprise, then, that Lotta Sea Lice has an off-the-cuff feel, oozing with slacker vibes and sweet Fender tones. While not every element of every song feels like a final draft, the fun that Kurt & Courtney (too soon?) clearly had jamming together is enough to shine through and paper over the album’s cracks.
The first thing that strikes the listener is the fact that this is a truly collaborative release. Opener “Over Everything” is an excellent showcase of both musician’s individual attributes as well as the dynamic between them. The two trade spontaneous-sounding banter over the downtempo indie slacker meets country a la “Range Life”, with Vile attempting to turn his mundane observations about earplugs lyrics while Barnett does her whole subtly clever Aussie thing. Their guitar playing (both here and throughout) can get cacophonous, almost like they’re trying to smash elements together to see what works.
For my money, the partnership sounds best when it finds a groove that feels greater than the sum of its parts. The Barnett-helmed “Fear is Like a Forest” finds the duo channeling the Fender-wielding spirit of Neil Young for one of the album’s most cohesively classic rocking songs. It wouldn’t feel out of place on either collaborator’s album, but isn’t defined or commandeered by either one of them. It’s the perfect pairing of Vile’s tendency to throw in some sweet solos with Barnett’s ability to employ memorable, succinct turns of phrase.
In general, the partnership works because it reins in some of the frustrating creative impulses or crutches of each, like Vile’s proclivity for occasionally writing songs that drag on or overuse repetition, and Barnett’s occasional lapses into a disaffected monotone (maybe it’s just an Australian accent though, who knows). “Outta the Woodwork” is a decent enough Vile-tinged track about someone who sucks, but you’d be lying if you couldn’t imagine him stretching it out to nine minutes for some inexplicable reason had he not been forced to let Barnett into his process.
The breezy “Continental Breakfast” seems to sit outside of all that though, and it’s the kind of relaxed song that speaks to the spirit of the partnership. It’s about holding onto what you have and learning to let go of writer’s block, something that working together without the attendant pressures of writing an album that bears just your name surely did for them. The point isn’t that it’s perfect, but that it’s a chance to unburden themselves. And the results are obvious. You can practically hear the duo smiling and laughing when they sing “nana nana boo boo” on “Blue Cheese”, further credence to the idea that they’re creating like two little kids who just happen to know how to get some sweet tones out of their guitar rigs.
And that’s probably how Lotta Sea Lice should be remembered: a fun little creative exercise that reflects the joy of making music that its creators felt rather than any sort of career-defining statement. Much of it seems designed to evade serious analysis or the concerns of an audience. he fact that so much of it remains enjoyable (namely the first half) is a testament to the talents of Barnett and Vile.
This is Day 54 in my 100 albums in 100 days series, where I review a new album or EP I haven’t heard in full before every day through December 31st. Check out yesterday’s post or see the full archives for more.
