Bobby Vacant & the Worn – Virginia Neon

The world of Virginia Neon is one simultaneously familiar and alien, an American landscape of deserts and bars by turns seedy, lonely and tender. On songs like Nobody’s There, Bobby Vacant’s direct lyrical evocations of a transient existence, laid over effectively simple bass and drums, occasionally make him sound like Americana’s answer to Ian Curtis. Virginia Neon, however, never plumbs the emotional depths of Closer, with Vacant’s tone more melancholy and reflective than tortured.

That register suits the pared-down When You Burned My Eyes, which features fingerpicked guitar, banjo, and mournful Damien Jurado-esque vocals. Such moments represent the LP’s highpoints; Vacant is less convincing when he ups the tempo on pieces like Let It Come Down, a weirdly wobbly amalgamation of clattering percussion, slide guitar and gospel-style backing vocals. Virginia Neon makes no attempt to hide such blemishes; and they feel somehow necessary, part of the fabric of this capricious and commendably odd record.