Live Review: Kurt Vile

Acclaimed Philadelphian singer/songwriter Kurt Vile played his second show at the stunning pop-up The Riverbank Palais as part of the Adelaide Festival. A light breeze danced off the River Torrens and was felt within the open plan Palais, which allowed views of the illuminated city from the dancefloor and balcony.

Vile took to the stage unaccompanied as part of his national solo tour, bringing along only a couple guitars, a banjo, harmonica and a loop pedal. Although standing alone and hidden behind an impressive head of hair, the multi-instrumentalist held a demanding stage presence. Before and after songs he itched restlessly until the first chords played, his eyes closed, and the entire Palais was held captivated.

We began the night with finger-picked favourites Feel My Pain and All In A Daze Work, both gliding through the crowd with a sound quality that would easily out-shine music venues down the road. Gentle clouds of smoke surrounded Vile and the cityscape behind him looked more and more surreal.

Introducing a loop pedal, Vile injected some energy into his tunes with a grungy, electric guitar loop that sounded like it tore up the speakers achingly. The swift change in style came effortlessly as Vile adjusted pedals and navigated his way back to some of his earliest work, much to the delight of long-time fans.

Vile continued the leisurely pace through extended jams of Wild Imagination and Runner Ups, tentatively cradling his guitar and offering the occasional smirk. Despite the minimalist arrangement, what filled out this performance was Vile's incredible guitar work and his country-tinged vocals that had the structure of elastic — capable to stretch and bend lullingly before snapping out of tone at the end of each sentence. It's something that was accentuated in a live setting and made for even more charming lyricism.

Before loosening up with brief conversation about his plans to go swimming in the Torrens later, Vile ended the night with new track Dust Bunnies and 2011's Peeping Tomboy, executing the acoustic gems with a humble "Thanks, love you," before parting from the cheering crowd.