I was pleasantly surprised to see that I hadn’t featured today’s randomly selected song on the blog months ago.
‘Walcott,’ the penultimate song on Vampire Weekend’s self-titled debut, is such a brilliant and infectious burst of creative energy — and so emblematic of the band’s sound and appeal — that I was sure I’d posted it already.
Best Songs of 2010 – #6
Vampire Weekend had a huge 2008, when their debut album took the critical world by storm and their fresh, smart sound felt like something brand-new even as it reached back to 80s-era Paul Simon.
2010 was a different story, at least in terms of the hype. The band released their sophomore album, Contra, early in the year and made nary a wave, despite the fact that it’s a brilliant piece of work, expanding on and deepening the vibe they created on their debut.
Apparently on one of the many shows with which Ryan Seacrest is associated, he features what he calls Green Room performances by popular acts. I happened upon this clip of Vampire Weekend performing their first hit, ‘A-Punk,’ in that setting.
I really love the music these guys make, though I can understand the urge some people have to punch them in the face. They’re just so cute and preppy and precious. A bunch of hyper-literate Ivy League types playing African-influenced chamber pop… yeah, that sounds like a group that needs to get their asses kicked.
I’ve avoided highlighting any songs off of Vampire Weekend’s sophomore album Contra the past few months for a rather silly reason.
I do a ‘top ten songs of the year’ countdown at the end of the year and I don’t want to burn one of these great tracks now and be unable to feature it in December.
Because I know without a doubt that something from this album will be on my list of favorite 2010 songs. It’s a wonderful piece of work.
Second albums are tough.
The concept of the sophomore slump is particularly valid in the music world, where many a promising debut is followed by something head-scratching or, worse, boring.
Often the artist spent years building up to the first release, honing the perfect batch of songs into something meaningful and thought out. And once the debut is a hit, pressure comes from the label (not to mention fans) to put out something else right away. So the result is a hastily thrown together group of songs, often chronicling the experience of fame itself, something nobody really cares to hear about.
Meet Me In Montauk 