Tristan's Tracks: Contra by Vampire Weekend
Tristan Eden
Issue date: 1/26/10 Section: Arts & Entertainment
The worry, of course, was that Vampire Weekend's second album would sound like some other band trying really hard to sound like Vampire Weekend. There was the very real possibility that Contra would sound affected and self-conscious. Instead, thankfully, it just sounds like Vampire Weekend. Which, to an extent, means it sounds affected and self-conscious. But this is the interesting thing: Vampire Weekend's self-consciousness--the relentlessly educated lyrics, the bright instrumentation, and general blue-blooded aesthetic--is so real it ceases to come off as affected.
Opener "Horchata" proves this by rhyming things like "horchata," "Aranciata," "balaclava," and "Masada" over a tight, plucky arrangement. "Horchata" simply couldn't be by anyone else but Vampire Weekend and Contra is off to a powerful start. The record speeds by with each addicting little song offering bits of beauty and cleverness at a rate too fast to process on first listen.
On "White Sky," it's Manhattan-centric lines like, "Around the corner, the house that modern art built" and the Ezra Koenig's yelping, soaring chorus. On "California English," it's the way the lyrics ("Funny how the little college girl called language corrupt/ Funny how the other private schools had no Hapa club"!) are sung fast in tiny little breathless snippets which build to a beautiful beat-less breakdown. On "Taxi Cab," it's the sad details the speaker remembers while regretting a breakup: "I could blame it on your mother's hair/ Or the colors that your father wears/ But I know that I was never fair/ You were always fine." On the high energy "Cousins," it's the lyrics, which are among the best on the album, and the way Koenig spits them out so jerkily.
"Giving Up the Gun" is too electronic for Contra, but would have been at home on last year's Vampire Weekend indie-club side-project, Discovery. "Diplomat's Son" is the weakest track on the record, suffering equally from its MIA sample, too-slow 6-minute runtime, and awkward "storyteller"-style construction.
"I Think UR a Contra" ends the record clearly and sweetly. Outlining another failed relationship, Koenig's voice almost floats away from the minimal tune as he sings, "I think you're a contra/ I think that you've lied." He sounds convincingly accusing, considering "contra" isn't really a word. Within the song, contra comes to mean liar, some play on contradict or contrary. "I Think UR a Contra" ends with a light strumming/shaky breakdown and the upset-sounding refrain: "Never pick sides/ Never choose between two/ Well I just wanted you/ I just wanted you." The song makes it clear that Vampire Weekend is capable of more atmospheric tracks and that slow doesn't mean bad.
Then just like that Contra ends and there's nothing else to do but play it again, right then and there. Soon, maybe an hour or two later, it becomes obvious: Contra isn't better than the first album, but that's not important anymore. The worry has passed: Contra's great.
Opener "Horchata" proves this by rhyming things like "horchata," "Aranciata," "balaclava," and "Masada" over a tight, plucky arrangement. "Horchata" simply couldn't be by anyone else but Vampire Weekend and Contra is off to a powerful start. The record speeds by with each addicting little song offering bits of beauty and cleverness at a rate too fast to process on first listen.
On "White Sky," it's Manhattan-centric lines like, "Around the corner, the house that modern art built" and the Ezra Koenig's yelping, soaring chorus. On "California English," it's the way the lyrics ("Funny how the little college girl called language corrupt/ Funny how the other private schools had no Hapa club"!) are sung fast in tiny little breathless snippets which build to a beautiful beat-less breakdown. On "Taxi Cab," it's the sad details the speaker remembers while regretting a breakup: "I could blame it on your mother's hair/ Or the colors that your father wears/ But I know that I was never fair/ You were always fine." On the high energy "Cousins," it's the lyrics, which are among the best on the album, and the way Koenig spits them out so jerkily.
"Giving Up the Gun" is too electronic for Contra, but would have been at home on last year's Vampire Weekend indie-club side-project, Discovery. "Diplomat's Son" is the weakest track on the record, suffering equally from its MIA sample, too-slow 6-minute runtime, and awkward "storyteller"-style construction.
"I Think UR a Contra" ends the record clearly and sweetly. Outlining another failed relationship, Koenig's voice almost floats away from the minimal tune as he sings, "I think you're a contra/ I think that you've lied." He sounds convincingly accusing, considering "contra" isn't really a word. Within the song, contra comes to mean liar, some play on contradict or contrary. "I Think UR a Contra" ends with a light strumming/shaky breakdown and the upset-sounding refrain: "Never pick sides/ Never choose between two/ Well I just wanted you/ I just wanted you." The song makes it clear that Vampire Weekend is capable of more atmospheric tracks and that slow doesn't mean bad.
Then just like that Contra ends and there's nothing else to do but play it again, right then and there. Soon, maybe an hour or two later, it becomes obvious: Contra isn't better than the first album, but that's not important anymore. The worry has passed: Contra's great.
Viewing Comments 1 - 1 of 2
freelance writers
posted 2/06/10 @ 3:47 AM EST
I've found it usual. But, probably, I shoud listen it one more time.
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