Vampire Weekend
VAMPIRE WEEKEND
(XL)
When Paul Simon's Graceland blew up in 1986, I figured the bandwagon would soon overflow with acts working to fuse Western with African pop. It seemed such a fruitful stylistic area to plumb, but the trend didn't happen, save for a few fleeting efforts by Sting and Peter Gabriel, which came off as stilted and New Age-y.
More than two decades later comes New York's Vampire Weekend, a quartet of graduates from Columbia University who have successfully melded African elements into shiny indie-pop. It's a winning, if not startlingly original, fusion.
Above all, Vampire Weekend radiates joy. This is unapologetically happy music. It all starts with elliptically catchy tunes driven by an array of polyrhythms from throughout the Diaspora: Africa, the Islands, et al. The sound is built around chiming, trebly guitars common to South African township music; that element alone gives Vampire Weekend considerable charm. Unlike Simon on Graceland, Vampire Weekend did not enlist a roll-call of top African talent, but instead delivered the goods by themselves. Their take is not culturally authentic, and so much the better, allowing the music to maintain its air of innocence. This might be a group of privileged white boys appropriating ethnic styles, but they're doing so without the pretense of importance.
Lead singer Ezra Koening's relaxed, gentle tenor calls to mind Sting and, at times, Paul Simon, which is rather unfortunate inasmuch as it underscores the kinship between Vampire Weekend and those venerable artists. Still, Koening's voice — tuneful and disarming — fits the music.
Where Vampire Weekend lapses into preciousness is in the lyrics: coy, cryptic word puzzles that to these ears don't merit analysis. Sophomores in the dorms at Tufts may want to parse the meaning of "coronation rickshaw grab," but, me, I'm not playing. The band namedrops Louis Vuitton, Lil' John, Sloan-Kettering, Benneton, the Khyber Pass and Peter Gabriel, all of which adds to the lyrics' patina of tragically hip.
Oh well, can't have everything.
It's difficult to determine whether the heavily buzzed Vampire Weekend will have artistic legs or be consigned to the blog-hype dustbin in six months. In the meantime, I'll put the disc on now and again when I need a kick in my step or a smile on my face. 3 and 1/2 stars —Eric Snider
You're Awful, I Love You
LUDO
(Island)
Ludo's major-label debut, You're Awful, I Love You, has all the markings of a classic power-pop effort: huge guitar hooks, smart synth flourishes and witty lyrics that range from somber to absurd — often in the same song. The St. Louis-based quintet is at its best on the morbid yet ebullient opener (and lead single) "Love Me Dead." Slow and ominous at first, the song builds triumphantly, highlighted by gorgeously stacked background vocals, keyboard squiggles, a sinewy guitar solo and 28-year-old vocalist/guitarist Andrew Volpe firing bullets at the feet of the tart he most definitely loathes — but also longs for now that she's found a new stooge. Elsewhere, the first-person stalker serenade "Go-Getter Greg" might just be the funniest — in a creepy, clever way — rock song issued since the passing of Warren Zevon. You're Awful, I Love You isn't flawless. There's a number titled "Please" that reeks of the generic emo shit currently clogging the airwaves, but even that stinker is nearly salvaged by soaring Beach Boys harmonies. With its second full-length, and first on Island Records, Ludo has managed to follow in the footsteps of bands like Weezer and Fountains of Wayne while still charting its own course — no small accomplishment. 4 stars —Wade Tatangelo
Clear Blue Flame
DELTA MOON
(Jumping Jack)
Slide guitarists Mark Johnson and Tom Gray ditch the female vocalists of albums past for a set of stripped-down swamp-rock that, true to its name, sounds ready to ignite at a moment's notice. The title track kicks off with a sinewy riff before Gray — with a rusty, raspy voice — rips into the strong stuff: "All whiskey ain't the same/ Good moonshine burns with a clear blue flame." The Atlanta act pays homage to blueswoman Jessie Mae Hemphill and does Mississippi Fred McDowell right with a slippery, sexy cover of "You Done Told Everybody." Delta Moon performs Fri., March 7 at Aces Lounge in Bradenton. 3 and 1/2 stars —Amanda Schurr
This article appears in Mar 5-11, 2008.