How is it that Kurt Vile can make it all look so simple? Coming across as some kind of slacker, grasping some beaten up old acoustic, slurring the words and making it up as he goes along. Truth is Vile is no slacker: he lives and breathes music – his acoustic is a finely tuned instrument and his songs are embedded in the soil sewn by his country’s musical history.

Just hear ‘Peeping Tom’ – picked and played with confidence, Vile sounding better than ever. The musician is clearly on an earthy path here, his second on Matador Records worked carefully around the unplugged guitar and some honest tales.

Some beat heavily, not just in rhythm but in melancholy. ‘Society is my Friend’ has a yearning vocal that climbs and falls atop the rolling toms and glistening waves. You won’t catch Vile fishing for hand-raising hooks and big shiny anthems, he is more akin to someone like Townes Van Zandt in that respect. His words go from simple love to religion’s influence on those around him – all delivered with downbeat honesty. The album opens with ‘Baby’s Arms’, probably the strongest track in melodic terms – a drawn delivery that keeps returning to the catch line. Rocking against the establishment rarely sounds as good as on ‘Puppet to the Man’, a fine piece of shambolic rock with half-spoken vocals – the acoustic sitting this one out.

Admittedly some tracks don’t deserve the running time they are given, but the musician’s seemingly innate capacity to deliver a song smooths over any bumps in the road. ‘Smoke Ring for a Halo’ is Vile’s finest to date, and demonstrates another side to an ever-changing artist. WB