Vampire Weekend (XL)
By Dim
Wednesday. Jan 30, 3:29 PM
I have no idea what to tell people this sounds like.

In contemplating a theme for this review, I started to think about whether or not it would be an insult or a compliment to tell a vampire that he sucked. It’s like when you are cleaning your apartment and the old, dilapidated vacuum cleaner from the 1930s won’t pick up even the slightest thread on the carpet. You scream out loud “this vacuum cleaner SUCKS!” as you throw the sweeper down to the ground, at which point your smart ass roommate replies, “Uh, isn’t that what it is supposed to do?” right before you punch him in the throat.

So, if you were a punk and saw Nosferatu walking down the street and you screamed, “Hey Nosferatu! You SUCK!!!”, would he say, “Vy yes, I do suck! Vank you veddy much for nice a nice compliment! Bla!” Or would he get all indignant and yell back, “No sa! I do NOT suck! In vact, it is YOU who sucks! Bla!” (keep in mind, this all would have to happen at night, or Nosferatu would be burning to a crisp in the daylight. And to tell a dude he sucks while he is vaporizing before you eyes is pretty cold, even if he is a vampire and you are a complete and total asshole).

I’m not sure why this even popped into my mind, because the debut and much balleyhooed album by this New York City quartet sounds nothing like what I would classify as “vampire music.”

This band has had more buzz surrounding it than a fucking apiary and, from what I can discern, it is largely because they sound pretty much like no other band out there, unless The Strokes decided that they were way too overproduced, had way too much guitar, and had way too little in the way of strings and African music influence.

Kicking off the disc is the brief and groovy “Mansard Roof” that is driven by some funky organ, strings, and instruments you would expect to find backing up Dead Can Dance. The bodaciously infectious pop of the (again) organ-driven “Oxford Comma” is a fun jaunt whose verse and olde tyme guitar solo will undoubtedly get stuck in your head, and you can’t get rid of it regardless of how much garlic you eat, how much holy water you drown yourself in, and how many stakes through the heart you endure. Well, maybe all those stakes will work, but what fun is there in that?

Guitarist Ezra Koenig’s vocals are perfectly suited for whatever the hell kind of music this is. “A-Punk” fluctuates from a cool, if minimalist, guitar riff into a breakdown that employs woodwinds that immediately made me think of a “Spill the Wine” 45 being played at 78 speed. And vampires.

Again, it’s hard to pigeonhole Vampire Weekend, which is most likely exactly what they want. The music has a lot of simplistic, typical NYC indie qualities but never gets boring because of the band’s use of other things like African drums by Christopher Tomson and interesting bass lines provided by Chris Baio.

“M79” sounds classical at first, with its harpischord and string-driven intro by Rostam Batmanglij, but then devolves into the indie-pop, borderline reggae verses only to get back to upbeat strings during the instrumental break. If you actually have question marks surrounding your head as you read that description, join the fucking club. How do you think I feel? I’m actually listening to the damn thing, saying to myself, “I have no idea what to tell people this sounds like.” RIYL: Uh…

“I Stand Corrected” has a Strokes vibe with the same qualifier as before: little guitars, strings, insane bass line, tribal percussion. And the glockenspiel (xylophone? Marimba? Vibraphone?) that punctuates “Walcott,” as excellent as it is, makes you scratch your head and suddenly brings you back to elementary school music class, where everyone grabbed some sort of instrument from the various families and just jammed. Vampire Weekend’s brilliance in this aspect is to create a new and refreshing sound and somehow have the songs uncluttered (and seemingly low-fi) despite all that’s going on. Only the closer, “The Kid’s Don’t Stand a Chance,” flirts a little too closely with overt reggae (during the verses) that it regrettably recalls what I would hear blaring out of the dorm windows when I walked through the quad at my college on Friday afternoon. Then again, the non-verse parts are so “what the fuck?”, I got over my need for white boy dreads in a hurry.

I can’t say for certain that the band is worthy of the truly insane buzz out there, because I can’t say for certain that any of the 11 tracks really stung me to the point where I had to put a slice of bacon on the wound to drag the stinger out. But they certainly have me intrigued and slightly flabbergasted, to be honest. I dig what I hear here and I’m not sure why. It’s different. It might take awhile to get into. But it’s true to itself and unapologetic indie / reggae / classical / Afro pop. And it doesn’t suck. Or it does. Depending on if you’re a vampire and what you consider a compliment.
www.vampireweekend.com
www.xlrecordings.com

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Dim

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