Vampire Weekend is not likely to be tried by 8,000 fans of Carrie Underwood.
These guys use African beats, debate the merits of correct grammar and mention Cape Cod far more than Jesus driving the Car of Life through the only stoplight in Checotah, Okla.
The band members met at Columbia University. It can be inferred that all four members have loads of dough and years of training in “sophisticated” music. This is confirmed if the surface of rock writing is barely scraped.
So being a Vampire Weekend fan feels like rooting for the Yankees over a slow-pitch softball team composed of grandmothers (usually called the Chicago Cubs). Something tells you they’ve already got it in the bag.
Despite these somewhat unlikable attributes, their self-titled album is so catchy that these matters of privilege can be deemed irrelevant.
They open with “Mansford Roof,” which is the audio equivalent of gently floating downstream without the fear of a Niagara Falls-like unhappy ending. It’s the basic thesis sentence of an intelligent album – not completely memorable, but a solid tone setter.
Next is the song that most writers discuss when they review Vampire Weekend, “Oxford Comma,” mostly because singer Ezra Koenig begins with, “Who gives a f*** about an Oxford comma?”
Besides that gimmick, the song builds into quite a gem. It brings to mind the kind of R&B the Temptations introduced to Motown.
Of course, the twist is that it’s sung by an I-wore-a-bowtie-to-class Ivy League grad who later states the mantra, “Lil’ Jon/He always tells the truth.” I can’t argue that point, mostly due to the first half of Kings of Crunk.
The second-best song on the album, a two-minute pop masterpiece called “A-Punk,” follows after the anti-syntax manifesto. It contains the best bass line of 2008, and employs the kind of jangly guitar made popular by R.E.M.
The lyrics are secondary to how good the song sounds, and the best parts are the early-Beatles-esque “hey/hey/hey/hey!” proclamations sprinkled throughout the song.
If you’re going to download just one song off this album, make it the fourth track, “Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa.” (I know. The title is yet another reason to kick Vampire Weekend in the groin.)
It tells a good story, and definitely sums up the positives of college dating.
Like an alarming amount of recent albums, this one tends to tail off a little during the second half. The songs are still enjoyable, though, and very much resemble Paul Simon’s Graceland – never a bad thing.
Just don’t look for Jesus steering around these parts.

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