Bram S JR was traveling back from NYC to London across the sweeping atlantic. On a packed airplane he wondered how to waste some time. No way was he gonna suffer through Mamma Mia again. Searching the selection on High Mile radio he stumbled upon Vampire Weekend's debut. Wow those dudes must be like international now or something. Weren't they that group he'd turned his nose up at before? The champagne clouds drifted by his window. Last night Obama had emerged victorious and America seemed to burst with regained optimism.
Putting in the lame ear plugs he found musical elevation. He'd been so wrong about them. I mean white guys doing African in an ironic fashion? Pretty contrived. At least those middle aged rockers in the 80's wanted to save the world. Why not buy a Fela Kuti record and be done with it. But this was nothing like that, nothing so cynical. Oxford Comma sat up and snapped at you with it's bright, fervent passion, M79 shared a joke with Mozart and The Kids Don't Stand A Chance announced itself as a modern anthem, one you could shout along to without shame.
Anticipating jet lag with a smile he purchased a copy at the airport upon arrival.
That was then. Skating round Central Park's ice rink-only a distant memory. Contra, Vampire Weekend's second album was already out. Was he stoked? Kinda, he couldn't say. The first two songs immediately felt like reuniting with old friends from those heady times. Horchata celebrated an obscure drink over thumb pianos and the lightest of tribal rhythms. White Sky featured Ezra Koenig's happy continuation of Paul Simon's conversational intricacies, and his sublime gift with a melody. Richard Serra replaced Jackson Pollock as a lyrical reference. After that? Well, it all started to turn pleasant enough. The high pitched guitars still rang out. There were dalliances with auto-tune, Arthur Russell cello shapes, the cheapest of synth beats, but where was the urgency or excitement? Hard to fault, harder to relate, so he cranked up Sunn O instead on the stereo. Yet later in the sleepy night the gentle sway of I Think Ur A Contra bewitched him, had he been too hasty in his opinion after all? Maybe they deserved a second chance.
