In 2013, it seems like everyone was either overworked, underemployed, or both, which certainly helped to elevate Kurt Vile and his Wakin on a Pretty Daze. Call him the slacker savior, working his fingers to the finger-picking bone to bring us a vision of paradise where everything is effortless and the very air is filigreed with guitar solos that unspool infinitely, as if of their own accord. With Daze, Vile proved himself always willing to go the extra distance in turning out slow-burning rock'n'roll that sounds like it's barely got enough energy to lift the tallboy off the coffee table. But he only sounds lazy, just like "Headphones are loud / Chillin' on a pillowy cloud" only sounds like a Flight of the Conchords punchline. If he were as lazy as he comes across, he wouldn't turn "crestfallen" into a four-syllable word, with an extra little dip at the end; he wouldn't spin his drifting melodic miniatures into eight- and ten-minute reveries. His lyrics are so matter-of-fact they almost seem like throwaways, or thrown-aways, things picked up off the ground and idly pocketed. Their down-home banality is precisely what distracts you from his quiet, ceaseless acrobatics. P.S.