There was a was a time in indie rock’s past when an album like Kurt Vile’s Constant Hitmaker might have seemed exciting and refreshing. When the idea of a lone musician penning and recording music in his basement helped romanticize the notion that making a record need not be an expensive and exclusive endeavor.

If Constant Hitmaker had been produced when a pastiche of lo-fi indie rock ruled the day in the late 80′s and through a good portion of the 90′s, it might not feel quite as flat as it does in 2009. That’s not to say there aren’t strong moments, especially early on, but somewhere along the way the appeal fades. Unfortunately, lo-fi charm isn’t enough to make up for the lack of quality songwriting that hampers the second half of this effort.

It’s easy to lump Constant Hitmaker, a collection of recordings made between 2003 and 2007, with the recent garage rock revival, but it drifts toward a more somber and, at times, psychedelic bent. Imagine Lou Barlow at his quietest or East River Pipe without the drum machine version of a Phil Spector production.

The album starts off with one of its strongest tunes, “Freeway”, full of shimmering guitar, hand claps (provided by a drum machine) and jumpy 50′s style rock n’ roll vocals. “Breathing Out” is an excellent quiet lo-fi track augmented by light clicks and whispering vocals.

“Space Forklift” might be the where all of Kurt Vile’s strengths really coalesce. Strumming acoustic guitar accompany his spacey, distant vocals until it drifts into a hazy, blissful, swirling end complete with whistle solo. It’s reminiscent of 13th Floor Elevators needing a nap. “Slow Talkers” is folky with smokey vocals, showing a bit of range in Vile’s songwriting. The first half ends with the revved up “Don’t Get Cute”, a good old reverb heavy rocker that, in keeping with the nature of these recordings and foreshadowing the second half, never really rocks.

Contant Hitmaker’s last half has an overall weaker vibe and the album loses some of its luster. “Keep it On Ice” and “Deep Sea” both feel so distant, they barely register. “Deep Sea” does employ some nice hallucinatory keyboard touches, but unlike more immediate, repetitive psychedelia, it fails to grab the listener’s attention.

It’s a double-edged sword. Vile’s lack of energy makes the first half of the album intriguing, but that same lack of energy makes the second half less focused and more experimental which causes the listener to drift off into nothingness from time to time.

The album ends where it started, with an acoustic reworking of “Freeway,” which serves to not only re-affirm Vile’s strengths as a songwriter, but also remind the listener that somewhere between these two versions they may have wandered away from this record, or more precisely, the record wandered away from them.

Constant Hitmaker is a collection of tunes spanning 4 years, so expecting consistency might be asking for too much. Still, a few more hits from Philly’s own constant hitmaker would have made the album a more complete, engaging listen.