Vampire Weekend, Contra

Vampire Weekend , Contra [XL Recordings]

By Michael Cranston » You probably decided on Contra before hearing a note.

If already a fan, the incredibly viral 34-minute Vampire Weekend debut predisposed a love for whatever was going to come next. If a hater, you’ve likely read Village Voice’s Julianne Shepherd’s damning indictment of VW’s very raison d’etre, which is apparently to hold up “old-guard high society”. If simply indifferent or undecided, you might have dug “A-Punk” but generally think their fan-club is reserved for Wes Anderson-loving yuppies. Contra won’t transcend the preordained opinions that have already polarized the music community. After all, the classist signifiers from the debut persist: modern art, lexicons, aristocrats, private schools, joint-smoking, skiing in the alps, diplomats. Even if you think VW’s prep-school snobbery reputation is undeserved, it’s not hard to see where Contra will incense particular critics. But there’s nothing Vampire Weekend or frontman Ezra Koenig can or will do about this; their accomplished and branded sound is here to stay. They may divide critics, but they’re sure as hell not going to change for you, Shepherd. “You’re not a victim,” Koenig fittingly mentions on “Taxi Cab”, “but neither am I.”

The tones remain clean, the melodies still sparse, and the aura still breezy--though not a departure from the debut, Contra is a deepening of their sound. The hyperactive, guitar-oriented pop jams are less pronounced (“Cousins”, notably excepted) in favor of a richer and textured sound. Conceptually, it’s much more considered than its predecessor--there’s less flippancy and more sobriety and sentimentality on this record. Though not a political-anthem, “Holiday” directly references one of Koenig’s relatives who stopped eating after the U.S. invaded Iraq. “Giving Up the Gun” is energetic but is underscored by obvious reservations in its words. “Taxi Cab” is notably down-tempo, elusively addressing a lacking relationship. Koenig has always been an opaque lyricist, but there’s a feeling this record’s content is more personal than Ivy campuses, Luis Vuitton purses, and sophomore girls. It’s not all serious though; live-favorite “White Sky” is a buoyant summer jam that’s been perfect since it debuted at the CD-release show at the Bowery Ballroom in January ‘08, and its studio version keeps the same prepubescent “ooohhh’s!” and yelping “hey’s!” that initially made it irresistible. And “Cousins” is pure thrash-pop with Christopher Tomson’s most frenetic drumming.

Album closer “I Think UR A Contra” shows VW at their most versatile; a full-on ballad pacing along delicately with each member contributing shrewdly and Koenig’s most confessional lyrics. “I had a feeling once/ that you and I/ could tell each other everything,” it’s the most simple and elegant they’ve ever sounded.

You have to hand it to them; for a band with about 40-minutes of officially released material (pre-Contra), they polarized critics and fans by being cordial and well-dressed. For some, they’ll always just be Lacoste-loving, scarf-brandishing, Chaucer-experts. But critically, the perfunctory dismissal of VW because they’re privileged will eventually fade, and those still clinging to that notion will be busy eating sour grapes.

Posted on January 12, 2010