Review Summary: As smooth as butter, as chill as ice, and as dorky as the kid on the album cover
Zack Villere’s debut,
Little World, is one hell of an anomaly. Never has an album managed to sound so confident while simultaneously owning up to the title of ‘dorkiest album ever recorded’. It’s the aural equivalent of a man stealing your girl and then inviting her over to his house to watch the next episode of Steven Universe. Lyrically, Villere indulges in dorky narratives such as on “Next” - where he is describing his less than admirable interactions with a girl, in which he finds himself unable to continue a simple conversation. This element, when pitted against his performance vocally, serves for a hilarious and charming visage of a man who can sound the part of confidence, but certainly can’t act it out. “Bloo” and “You Don’t Care” showcase his vocal talent with heavenly, soft-spoken vocals that fade in and out of lovely falsetto and fidgety pitch shifts. While on the flipside, delicate guitar leads drift seamlessly with skittery bursts of quick, sharply inserted samples and bouncy, reverb heavy guitar licks leaning towards the realm of psychedelia. The unpredictability in the overabundant supply of off-handed production quips, on top of Villere’s bold vocal performance, keep the album from ever getting stale.
With that, Zack Villere’s heavy attention to developing a personality breathes eccentricity into the record. Either he’s describing his ideas of a romantic date - where sitting on the carpet and watching cartoons or ordering a pizza and eating it outside is the epitome - or getting personal with his anxieties over growing up, there is always a change in vocal performance or production effects to assist in giving his thoughts different faces. “Cool”, for example, follows the simple setup of Zack Villere doubting he is “cool enough” for a friend’s party. While the introduction of the song is a strongly sung, layered chorus - as he begins to doubt his looks and personality, he begins stumbling, quickly delivering his lines and stumbling over the beat to reflect the implied nervousness of his character. In other instances, Villere will pitch his vocals to a nearly robotic drone or throw on a fuzzy filter to help enunciate his disconnection from reality, represented by the record’s clean production. While these tricks are far from profound, the lengths in which Villere goes to give his record depth results in a charming, admirable effort worth a nod of approval every now and then.
Speaking against the album, however, Villere may get a bit
too carried away with his “experimentation”. On “22”, samples of phone conversations never sit comfortably with the subdued guitar picking that phases in and out of existence on the track. Also, the “skits” that rear their head on the back ends of certain tracks lack anything of interest. For example, dialogue regarding what is to be assumed Villere offering his friends popsicles, has barely enough to justify its inclusion. It seems to appear on the record purely by obligation to the genre or just because somebody thought it was funny when in reality, the humor is lost on just about everybody. Thankfully, the missteps present are few and far inbetween. Boasting strong production, an excellent performance, and a fully fleshed character that oozes charm and dorkiness; Villere presents an album that serves as a strong candidate for “debut of the year”. Or at the very least, an album that can be put on when you just need to kick back and relax.
