Vampire Weekend’s self-titled debut pulls off a refreshing mesh of Afro-pop, classical music and an Ivy League aesthetic that makes them the most interesting new band of the year so far.
Vampire Weekend, formed by students at Columbia University, has created the most ambitious first album since Arcade Fire’s depressing-yet-nostalgic “Funeral” in 2004. Their inspiration from African contemporary music draws obvious comparisons to Paul Simon’s “Graceland,” but the band adds enough variety to distance itself from that classic.
The album opens with “Mansard Roof,” captivating listeners with Christopher Tomson’s percussive snare playing, Rostam Batmanglij’s mellow keyboards, and Ezra Koenig’s undistorted double picking guitar. The song, like the entire album, takes you to a South African beach with a cup of Earl Grey, two lumps and a false sense of entitlement.
Bassist Chris Baio, who is related to Scott Baio of “Happy Days” and “Charles in Charge” fame, is adept at facilitating Tomson’s shifting changing in tempos, sliding and dipping in unison.
Tomson’s style is reminiscent of someone lightly pounding away in a suburban basement, and Koenig yelps about Cape Cod, college professors and ion displacement. Most notable and most overlooked is Batmanglij’s keyboard play, which completes the sound the band is looking for. Hollow and tranquil, it is featured most prominently in practically every song.
Just so the band doesn’t make you think that they’re too preppy, Koenig’s lyrics in “Oxford Comma” rant against materialism. Those who have “diction dripping with disdain” insisting on lying about “how much coal” they have, and Koenig asks them to “know your butler, unlike other guys.” Pointedly humorous is the line “Lil’ Jon, he always tells the truth.”
“Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa” is the most Afro-poppy song on the album, going as far as to reference world music aficionado Peter Gabriel, while “M79” reinforces their classical chops with its harpsichord and syncopated cymbals.
Transitions feature prominently both in the music and in the lyrics. In “Campus,” Koenig is leaving his alma mater to never come back before he sees his significant other, having to ask himself the question “How am I supposed to pretend / I never want to see you again?” In M79, the tables have turned on Koenig, and his significant other is leaving him, as indicated in the verse “So go I know you would not stay / It wasn’t true, but anyway / Pollination yellow cab.” People are coming and going, closing chapters and opening new ones along the way.
Vampire Weekend’s music is so soothing, however, that they lack tension when necessary. “Walcott” is a great song about someone from Cape Cod running from a monster with a “lobster’s claw,” but it lacks the aggressive climax that would have perfectly complemented “The Kids Don’t Stand A Chance,” the quasi-political subsequent and final track.
A debut this exciting raises the question of what Vampire Weekend will be able to do next. While a novel concept, the African influence could fall into gimmickry if replicated on their next album.