Vampire Weekend: Innovators or Innovatively Mediocre?--David Oropeza

For generations, social trends have come to play a decisive role in determining how the public
reacts to a band's music. If the media machine is selling flannel shirts, ripped jeans and scraggly hair, then obviously you have Nirvana and a thousand kids that look like they should be in Nirvana. Now grunge is over and the last few years have seen an explosion of the indie scene. Its fashion, music and mindset have all been woven into the new fabric that pervades our ads, television shows and movies. The icon of this new landscape is partly made up of a goofy sense of humor, an unassuming personality and probably thin arms — a guy who may or may not be wearing non-prescription frames.

In short, nerds are cute.

I mention this to demonstrate that Vampire Weekend has not completely deserved this huge, almost hoagie huge, fame that is fattening up the blogs and message boards. Rather, I think their — self-titled — debut album couldn't have come at a better time. Audiences were already warmed up before we stopped “giving a fuck about an Oxford comma.” Throw in the culturally foreign genre of music of Afro-pop, a drummer with enough pocket, and some water and poof, presto, pronto: an immaculate VW comes from the microwave still steaming.

I think VW debuted as musicians who were just learning how to work together but who also had enough talent to write a clean, (almost) guilt-free pop song. Ezra Koenig has a fantastic ear for melodies and the quirky lyrics that fit within them. What I think is most interesting about his vocal delivery is the rhythms he incorporates into his singing, something he has carried onto their new album Contra in tracks like "Horchata" and "White Sky." Both include the off-beat vocal rhythms that have not only produced VW’s characteristic crispness and freshness, but have also broadened the band’s appeal.

Keyboardist Rostam Batmanglij, who arranged the strings for their first album, complements Koenig's songwriting with a refined playfulness that is almost synonymous with the band’s image. Think Mozart's bastard child in 2010. The ending of "The Kids Don't Stand A Chance" is laden with strings, tremolo picking, keyboard and harpsichord. It's a great example of Batmanglij’s arranging talent. The instruments switch off on the leading melody, blending into one another and creating a surreal, almost watery sound. Pretty stuff to say the least.

Despite the strong singles, there are also fully realized duds on the debut. "Walcott," "Campus" and "Bryn" are somewhat brainless pop tunes with no substance behind them. A hummable tune fit for an elevator ride. The songs drive, drive, drive to a wimpy payoff of a junior high school eargasm of a chorus. VW's consistency in their music works both ways. What they become popular for — sparse and rhythmic quirky tunes — can also lead to draggy and uninspiring songs. You have a song like "Mansard Roof," which follows their formula perfectly, and then "Bryn," which staggers in trying to keep up with the status quo.

VW reaped the benefits of being aesthetically relevant. They also put just enough spin on their music to make it deceptively fresh and current. It wasn't by innovation but by an alteration that VW was named the forerunners of new music. Borrowing African music forms and mixing it with their wholesome indie sound for a song like “Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa” is one of the few innovations VW can actually hold.

To call VW innovators requires much more than a debut album with a couple of appropriated influences and catchy singles. It requires an honest and virile passion, something I have never felt while listening to VW. It never made a mark past the surface and, when I was done moving my head from side to side, I still felt emotionally distant from the music. Though they are a band that can make good and catchy music, I don’t think they are innovators in what they do. VW is one of those bands that captures your attention for a strong month. They are an innovatively mediocre group, one I certainly wouldn't mind listening to for a dedicated amount of time, but they didn't reinvent the wheel. Their music isn't awe-inspiring, but it doesn't have to be. In the end, they are a good contemporary band that we probably won’t remember down the line. We will romance it and call it sweet names but, in a couple of years, our love letters will be lying right next to our Pokemon cards and Yo-Yos.