I don’t know the overall state of indie rocker Kurt Vile’s health or if perhaps he’s married to an anesthesiologist who can “put him under.” But for a fairly prolific dude, Vile DOES seem to write most of his tunes in a state that reminds me of those first 30 or 40 minutes coming to the surface of consciousness after surgery.

By the time he gets fully alert and remembers that he’d already turned on the tape recorder before taking the gas, Vile listens to the dreamy, quasi-developed popscapes he’s created, he thinks, “Screw it. This stuff sounds pretty interesting the way it is.”

And so he rolls on “(watch my moves),” his latest album. This is not to suggest that Vile doesn’t put a lot of effort into his songs, but rather that he does so while yawning and stretching like a cat who likes to argue with itself about whether listening to Lou Reed or Neil Young sing cradle songs is more fun.

Vile brings his band the Violators Saturday to the Garde in New London – which, I’d like to point out, is a terrific booking by those folks. It shows their commitment to pan-artistic programming, and here’s hoping a lot of the artist’s strong fan base shows up to be charmed by the music and the venue. And maybe some Garde regulators will be turned on by this cleverly distinctive artist with arguably the greatest pun-name in music history.

Kurt Vile and the Violators, 8 p.m. Saturday, Garde Arts Center, 325 State St., New London; Joanna Sternberg opens; $33-$54; gardearts.org, (860) 444-7373.