A simple lack of presumption both defines Archer Prewitt's music and keeps it relatively underground. Like his three other albums, Wilderness feels out of time, longing for the rich pop of the early '70s without ignoring the years between then and now. It's also content to wander those avenues quietly, and to ignore any impulses toward bombast. In place of grand designs, Prewitt—who's better known as guitarist for The Sea And Cake and creator of the Sof' Boy comic than as a solo artist—manages to wring prettiness from small-scale eloquence, crafting unassuming songs that sparkle with detail.
Close in tone and instrumentation to Prewitt's excellent 1997 debut In The Sun, Wilderness similarly pits melancholy vocal and lyrical musings against breezy, occasionally jazzy pop and the odd, welcome injection of strings, horns, and keys. The formula has served him well since the late-'90s demise of his beloved band The Coctails, and its only weakness is a lack of range: From beginning to end, Prewitt rarely rocks his own sturdily constructed ship, and when he does deviate from his laid-back, limited vocal range (as on the slightly punchy "Cheap Rhyme"), it doesn't really suit him.
The majority of Wilderness gracefully moves within its own limits, though, nodding to ambitious, heartfelt '70s pop like Cat Stevens and the pre-disco Bee Gees, but filtering it through Prewitt's jazzy guitar lens. The album highlight "Leaders" nods both to classic Bob Dylan (with its insistent keyboard) and to Paul Simon, sounding for one brief second like Simon & Garfunkel's "The Boxer." Elsewhere, Prewitt hits highs by examining lows: "O, KY" deals lyrically with the death of his father (to whom Wilderness is dedicated), and "No More" uses melancholy empty space as effectively as the rest of the album uses vibrant busyness. Both fastidious and unassuming, Wilderness never begs for attention, but often rewards it just the same.