When certain people consider the success of Vampire Weekend's debut album, there are certain words used. "Rip-off" is one. "West African aping" is another. "Paul Simon's Graceland's bastard little brother" (ok, I made that one up) could be another. Either way, for a lot of jaded music listeners/bloggers/reviewers the concept of a preppy, poppy, New York take on West African rhythms was too much. You would think the guys released a noise record or a avante-garde record recorded with John Zorn.
Their success (albeit, arguably, undeserved) relied on their ability to write really good pop songs that walked the fine line of absurdity. Much like their often referenced Paul Simon, these are a bunch of ivy league educated white guys, dressed in Polo gear, probably have never even been to Africa, yet still find a way to channel the noise into their sound. Not much has changed this time around. They still have the look, the clever words (Ezra Koenig rhymes "Horchata" with balaclava, aranciata, and masada), the upper-crest influences ("White Sky" mentions architect Richard Serra) and still have an unnerving sense of hooks.
The only problem is this time around is everything is too laid back. Songs pass without much notice. "White Sky" blends into "Holiday" and by the time single "Cousins" comes roaring out with it's scuzzy, hectic guitar line, your practically thanking VW for waking you back up.
The songs are not bad, per se, but they lack the immediate quality of "Oxford Comma" or "Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa", the sprint of "A-Punk." "Run" attempts to recapture the glory, stop-starting all over the place with a chorus that is arena-worthy (weird, right?). But for every "Run" there's "White Sky" which never leaves the gate, "Holiday," a weird rip-off of a similarly named Weezer song, and don't even get me started on "California Holiday" which has a centerpiece of auto-tune vocals. Koenig may claim that world music uses auto-tune but maybe that should be left to the professionals, like T-Pain.
Maybe I'm being too hard on the guys. This album is not a step backward, not a step forward, but more a step sideways. They try to include world politics on the record but fall flat. They try to include a sample of M.I.A. (on "Diplomat's Son") but it comes off ghostly and forced. They are trying new things (mostly influenced by multi-instrumentalist Rostam Batmanglij), some of it works, other parts do not. Part of me wishes that they would stick with what they know and do well. Snobbery. Closer "I Think Ur A Contra" is an actual ballad with Koenig chastising that "you wanted good schools/and friends with pools." Instead of the world-view which the band seems to be trying to cultivate, their world lies within the world of the privileged, seen through the headphones of Chelsea Clinton or the bedroom of Ellen Page. They are white guys making music for white people. I wish they could see that. Paul Simon would agree.
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