The idea of success within the modern music industry is becoming increasingly difficult to quantify. Almost none of the mile-markers of yesteryear—which were much more obvious and clear-cut—exist in quite the same way. Even putting aside the near impossibility of cultivating a career and income based solely on independent music, even something as nebulous as a Pitchfork Best New Music stamp of approval is likely to go the way of the dodo in coming years. So, too, with the prestige of something like a Rolling Stone or SPIN feature, two increasingly corporatized outlets that have little to do with discovering or solidifying the status of young, up and coming artists.
With the disappearance of such outside validation, things inherently become a little more obscure, the steps along a path to success slippery and constantly shifting beneath one’s feet. Though Ohio singer-songwriter Mark Allen Scott, who releases music under the moniker villagerrr, has not been at it long, his newest record is, indeed, that massive step forward most artists pine for. Whatever that might mean for Scott, Tear Your Heart Out feels like a clear line of demarcation between what villagerrr once was and what it, one day, might become, (and one of the more exciting albums of the year up to this point).
I mention such a moment because of how keen an eye Scott himself seems to have for such things. villagerrr has been, to this point, a quintessential lo-fi indie artist, releasing music from his Ohio bedroom straight into the world at an impressive clip. Since his earliest recordings back in the fall of 2021, Scott has released six mid-to-full-length albums, experimenting and tinkering as one ought to on such a canvas in the digital age. For Scott, things started to shift at the tail end of 2022, and he cites shows with the likes of Greg Freeman, feeble little horse and labelmates Merce Lemon as signifiers of his growing momentum as a songwriter. “Meeting artists who are a few steps ahead of you who are encouraging of your art is so validating,” Scott says in the press materials surrounding Tear Your Heart Out. Merce Lemon in particular seems like an important influence, evidenced by her appearance on “Neverrr Everrr,” a jaunty duet that kicks off the record.
You can certainly hear the influence of artists that have taken a similar path to Scott’s throughout the record. The first, and perhaps most glaring, due to his consistent prevalence in the genre, is Alex G. “See,” with its percussive guitar work, thick layers of fuzz and vocal pitching might be a little too one-the-nose for some, but is, and I say this affectionately, one of the more impressive imitations I’ve yet heard of a pretty singular artist. Meanwhile, a song like “Tear Your Heart Out” is clearly more indebted to a band like Austin, Texas duo Hovvdy—it’s layered melodies and swirling guitar lines displaying a bone-deep, and refreshing, sentimentality.
That said, villagerrr is far from pure influence and admiration. Though Tear Your Heart Out is, just like the rest of his discography, home-recorded in all of its rough-and-tumble charm, there are more than a few hints of what Scott might do as his talents, vision and opportunities expand. Almost every one of his songs here starts modestly enough, Scott’s vocals and a guitar/piano accompaniment forming the rough sketch, but they rarely stay that way for long—becoming brushstrokes of plucky versatility. Take the extended outro of “Runnin’ Around,” perhaps the most intricate and wholly impressive minute of Scott’s discography thus far, which becomes a lush wall of pedal steel, synth and God knows what else.
As a lyricist, Scott is most effective at his most bitchy. It might take a few listens to sink in, but the cleverly named “Car Heart” is one of the more amusing takedowns of a very specific type of person you are likely to hear this year. “I see you wearing your Carhartt jeans, talking ’bout how you don’t got money / How do you pay for the car you lease?” asks Scott in a dry, murky monotone, later adding: “Let’s take it back to before I saw you down at the liquor store / You never were very nice / I know you got a fancy degree, but somehow you’re completely debt-free.” It’s the perfect blend of bristling indignation and biting sarcasm and a mode Scott will hopefully lean further into going forward. Incidentally, there’s also a line there about the target of his ire searching in vain for his “signature sound.” In truth, I’m not too sure Scott has fully found his signature sound, even as he hones his songwriter skills to a point that’s sharper than ever before. Ultimately, that cloudiness does little to hold Tear Your Heart Out back. The pieces are clearly there, and as the voice that opens the record assures us that this chapter for villagerrr is just the beginning.
Sean Fennell is a culture writer from Philadelphia attempting to listen, watch, and read every single thing he can get his hands on.
