Album Review: Modern Vampires of the Weekend ★★★★★

While the glory of starting a band has not completely faded, it certainly doesn’t carry the same weight or cultural pervasiveness as it did thirty years ago. In our current musical climate, young musicians would probably prefer producing hits for Beyoncé to starting a rock band. This time last year, Vampire Weekend’s multi-instrumentalist and composer Rostam Batmanglij chose the former. His withdrawal from Vampire Weekend signified the end of a golden era for a great rock band and it marked the end of his partnership with the lead singer and songwriter, Ezra Koenig. The two of them were once a dynamic duo as vital as Lennon and McCartney, or Morrissey and Marr.

The reason why this matters is that Vampire Weekend is the best representative of a dying breed — the classic rock band in the vein of The Clash, R.E.M. and Radiohead. Not only did they score two number one albums in a row, their unique synthesis of historical references and infectious melodies also set them apart. In their three studio albums, Vampire Weekend grew better and better with no signs of stopping and finally reached their peak in the 2013 indie rock masterpiece “Modern Vampires of the City.”

When Vampire Weekend first hit the indie scene, some critics and listeners derided the band for their preppy image, use of African music and knack of wordy lyrics. Fortunately, Vampire Weekend did not heed to such criticisms but instead turned their sound inside out, forcing the haters to reconsider their criticisms. Although “Modern Vampires” still retained some remnants of Vampire Weekend’s previous sound, it was more nuanced and spacious. Jumpy guitars and African rhythms were replaced by keyboards and mellow synths. A tone of creeping ambience floated in the background of every song, giving the album an omnipresent darkness and moodiness. The production was meticulous. It helped highlight the intricacies within the album’s sound. It was in these pockets of atmospheric tension when Vampire Weekend gradually found its power.

They then decided to ground their sound in the pulsing beat of their hometown, New York City, for the first time. However, the band evoked less of the sleek, aggressive coolness of bands, like the Strokes, but more of the introspective eccentricity of the Talking Heads. Despite this, Vampire Weekend still found tasteful moments to inject danceable rhythms and lyrical wittiness into their songs. As a result, the record worked as a true reflection of modern life, instead of some edgy teenager’s quasi-depressed poetry.

In the band’s first two records, Ezra Koenig’s songwriting sometimes seemed pretentious. His tendency to throw cultural references into every line made the listeners feel burdened rather than enlightened. Fortunately, like any great artist, he gradually learnt to control his impulse in his work. In his pre-Vampire Weekend days, Koenig ran a blog of his incoherent ramblings. In one post, he managed to string his friend’s visit to Morocco, the history of the Strait of Gibraltar, a 1984 interview between Bob Dylan and Bono, the film “The Secret of Roan Inish” and National Geographic’s famed Afghan refugee cover together, in a way that made perfect sense. His narrative was funny, perceptive and clever. Although his medium of expression has changed, from blog posts to songs, his omnivorous cultural appetite has not.

In the song “Step,” one of the album’s highlights, Koenig described his obsessive affection for music as being “entombed within boombox and Walkman.” However, the song avoided being just a messy list of names. Koenig conveyed his infatuation with music through every element of the song. The chorus and the melody were both borrowed from Souls of Mischief’s “Step to My Girl,” a direct ode to Koenig’s appreciation for 90s hip hop. The lyrics themselves are sung and rapped with such delicacy and grace that they float gorgeously without the extraneous weight of pretentiousness. Koenig also applied simpler lines of truth and insight into the lyrics. For example, “Wisdom’s a gift but you’d trade it for youth / age is an honor, it’s still not the truth.” These songs are no longer inconsequential. Koenig incorporated profound meaning behind every lyric. In songs like “Unbelievers” and “Ya Hey,” Koenig directly spoke to the Big Man upstairs, confronting him with questions about life and implying his existence with desperate confusions about faith. His songwriting does not condemn or affirm any of these ideas; they are just being thought out loud. In the other songs, themes of mortality and time are also covered. Sometimes even the clock effect is applied to drive the point stronger.

Although the lyrics are thematically dense, Batmanglij’s catchy melodies prevent the songs from drowning. The clarity of the music obliterates any sort of anxiety created by the ambiguous musings of the lyrics. Koenig and Batmanglij truly worked as one mind, pairing vocal melodies and harpsichord arpeggios in an infectiously delightful and natural way. Batmanglij, who usually decorates songs with thick layers of electronic beats, classical instruments, guitars and pitch-shifted vocals, did much of the same on “Modern Vampires,” except this time, many of the songs thrive on what is not being done. The more minimalistic and precise approach of Batmanglij’s compositions fit well with the album’s overall maturity. There is room in these songs to breathe and to get lost in. This genius combination of music and lyrics comes to a peak in the album’s centerpiece “Hannah Hunt.” It fades in with the sound of hissing ambient wind and murmured chatter, a scene from everyday life. It then gives way to Batmanglij’s gorgeous piano chords and the upright plucks of Chris Baio’s bass. Koenig, almost whispering, tells a story about a couple on a cross-country road trip. The details of crawling vines, hidden eyes, men of faith, freezing beaches, torn up newspapers are all intimate, mystical and undeniably stunning. The music wails and weeps as the song soars to a heart wrenching conclusion. Screeching guitars and clashing piano keys roar as they give way to Koenig’s best vocal moment. “If I can’t trust you then damn it, Hannah / there’s no future / there’s no answer,” Koenig sings, now screaming at the top of his lungs. The song blooms with every element of Vampire Weekend’s musical identity refined to perfection. For an album obsessed with time and fate, it is a moment when all is stopped for the universal power of emotions and memories.

Vampire Weekend posed many questions in the album “Modern Vampires of the City”without really answering any. But that’s just how life is, completely uncertain and bound by the constraints of time. I believe Vampire Weekend is optimistic and resilient for the future, as they have always been. They may have been the last hope for a bygone era of rock music but their fate is not for anyone to decide. They will keep doing what they’ve been doing, of which “Modern Vampires” is an obvious sign. They will still be, to some degree, great, even with the loss of a crucial member. Most importantly, I hope they will continue to observe the mysteries of the human condition through simple truths of life. Maybe there will be a second coming of rock music, which may or may not happen in our lifetime. What we do know for sure is that Vampire Weekend are no longer just an encyclopedia for the past times but a powerful source of their own style. They don’t have to be a great classic rock band anymore.

In that sense, they have beaten time.