Vampire Weekend’s Only God Was Above Us Is a Bitter Tour of the Past: Review
The post Vampire Weekend’s Only God Was Above Us Is a Bitter Tour of the Past: Review appeared first on Consequence.
For a while, Vampire Weekend’s colorful sound evoked the cultural melting pot of New York City. Their Columbia University origin story, the disparate musical influences that included African percussion and classical harpsichord, the references to the Hudson River, skyscrapers, and “hot garbage and concrete” — each sonic and lyrical detail felt cherry picked to reflect the inspiring grandeur of the Big Apple.
Now, after a California-esque detour on Father of the Bride, Vampire Weekend return to New York City on Only God Was Above Us, their fifth album. This time, however, the city isn’t looking — or sounding — like it used to. Only God Was Above Us is Vampire Weekend’s most bittersweet album, with an emphasis on the bitter.
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The trio, comprised of Ezra Koenig, Chris Thomson, and Chris Baio, revisit the sounds that characterized their first three albums and darken them; the hopeful sentiments ridden throughout become muddied by cacophonous noise or the touch of the odd. There are the usual virtuosic piano and guitar lines that have made their way into each Vampire Weekend album, but they’re brought together with offsetting rhythms and melodies — each moment of musical elegance paired with distortion or doubt.
Indeed, there is a heaviness to the Vampire Weekend sound that hasn’t ever really happened before. It’s as if they’ve returned to the city attempting to reclaim their lost youth, but they’re less concerned with any physical locations as they are with the pain, anguish, and uncertainty that dominates the environment.
From the very beginning, Koenig references nihilism floating undetected within the city walls. He tries to revisit the past via old New York aristocrats, public figures, and the Lincoln Tunnel, but none whose presence continues to loom throughout the urban landscape. The album’s cover and title refers to a news article depicting a moment of terror — a structural failure on an aircraft that resulted in its roof being torn off. Meanwhile, as an unseen figure reads about it on the subway, someone is walking sideways. It’s a fitting image given the noisy, chaotic backdrop of both album and city, and it seems that unnerving feeling of change has gotten to Koenig and co.
Some of the tracks retain the youthful spirit they emerged with over 15 years ago — “Prep School Gangsters” could have easily landed on either of their first two albums, with boyish yelps from Koenig, sly class commentary, and an intricate guitar line that feels like it’s always existed in Vampire Weekend’s discography. “Classical” is also one of their best songs, a passionate ode that begs the question: When all of this goes away, will we be cruel to each other or kind?
For the most part, though, it feels like the bitterness that comes with revisiting these old haunts is just another way of getting older. Both Only God Was Above Us and its sunny predecessor Father of the Bride are thoroughly Vampire Weekend creations, but there’s a settling that has occurred as they’ve aged. The kind of hop-skip enthusiasm from “A-Punk” or “Cousins” has made its way into the extraneous elements rather than in bright guitars or cherubic vocals — like the last album’s Steve Lacy contributions and this album’s frenetic, loaded atmosphere.
You can hear the energy fizzing from Chris Thomson’s drum kit, which sounds, shockingly, poorly-tuned on purpose — his snare would often be extra muffled and tuned high, but on songs like “Classical” and “Hope,” it sounds like he’s beating a drum twice the size in the middle of a warehouse. Baio is just as restless on the bass, especially on the rollicking “Gen-X Cops.” But overall, where Vampire Weekend were once spine-tinglingly syncopated or devoid of much atmosphere in the mix, those rules don’t matter any more. The grime within the city’s touchstones has made its way everywhere.
That’s not to say there isn’t beauty or peace — obviously, when the last song is eight minutes long and called “Hope,” you know you’re not ending on a completely sour note. But Koenig’s “I hope you let it go” mirrors the question he asks in “Classical” and the existential opening of “Ice Cream Piano.” Throughout the album, as they tour through the highs and lows of yesterday, Vampire Weekend wonder if they’re witnessing history repeat itself in a more destructive way.
It’s not enough to just pose the question, so Vampire Weekend double down and make their sound as unpredictable and jagged as its ever been. History is repeating itself, Koenig figures, and the war between cultures, classes, and generations is only becoming costlier. Landing on a “Kumbaya” solution of “I hope you let it go” feels a little like a cop-out, but it does mirror the band’s instrumental shrug throughout Only God Was Above Us.
Still, if you listen closely, you can hear a rattling in each tune, an atmospheric signal that suggests Vampire Weekend are not bowing out of the fight completely. The city has changed, and so have Vampire Weekend — but underneath the layers of grime, graffiti, and garbage, their eclectic spirit remains unbroken.
Vampire Weekend’s Only God Was Above Us Is a Bitter Tour of the Past: Review
Paolo Ragusa
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