Words by Corban Goble

Vampire Weekend is a band built for backlash. Perhaps it’s the too-tidy contextual information, four Ivy-educated college bros using indie-pop as a vehicle for 20-something expression, the sweaters and boat shoes always packed for the road, taking prep to the streets. Or maybe it’s the media-market-wide ovation of their eponymous debut LP, tacking their sensibility to the very famous Graceland and extolling their “world music” influence, a band-sized flak target lopped off from a submerged deeper argument (what does “world music” mean, exactly?). Most recently, it’s the band’s own deliberate movement into a different sonic sphere, a pronounced affection for California, elements all neatly strung together in a Lizzie Widdicombe New Yorker profile, a piece that will do little to quell the recoil.

And it’s a shame, because Contra’s awesome. While you’re certainly torso-deep in the schmaltzy quirk that Vampire Weekend frequents from the onset of Contra (Ezra Koenig’s first lyrical choice “In December drinking horchata / I look psychotic in a balaclava”, which provides an effectually useless run to the e-dictionary), Contra has a little different pulse from the debut LP—it’s just a little more ornate, a little more interesting. “White Sky” shows off Koenig’s vocal presence, a delightful swirl of a song set to bubbling percussive electronics. “Cousins” may indeed be a cousin to the songs of Vampire Weekend’s nascent back catalogue, the lone song recorded in a Mexico studio session, a punk-pop song that, if not stylistically related to “A-Punk”, is at least a big fan. And yes, even an Autotuned song, for good measure; the first half’s “California English”. Though Vampire Weekend hasn’t truly leapt far away from what’s been good to them, the subtle tweaks to the formula largely pay off on Contra.

While much of Contra appears as a logical next step for a band trying to move away from previous successes, it’s also a vessel for some of their best work, which would certainly include Contra’s best song “Taxi Cab,” a ballad that shakes and shimmers, teeming with both organic and synthetic instruments, crowded but never too overstuffed. Koenig sings “You’re not a victim / neither am I / nostalgic for garbage / desperate for time”, a sentimental song about sentiment itself package-gifted by a compelling backbeat.

Perhaps most on display in Contra is the thumbprint of Rostam Batmanglij, Vampire Weekend’s multi-instrumentalist and chief experimenter, someone who’s been often labeled as Koenig’s sidekick, and who deserves a shove into the limelight. Batmanglij, who put out a batch of poppy electronic songs over the summer with Wes Miles of Ra Ra Riot under the name Discovery, also wrote previous Vampire Weekend standouts “M79” and “Campus”; there’s plenty of talent and technique to be found alongside the rather visible frontman Koenig. In many of Contra’s songs, there’s an intriguing arrangement provided by Batmanglij, something that contributes to the texture of the album considerably, a feel and depth that certainly eclipses the debut record.

While Contra’s far from perfect (“Diplomat’s Son” clocks in at, by Vampire Weekend’s standards, an epic six minutes that could easily be four, “Giving Up the Gun” seems stale from start to finish), there’s a sense of a cohesiveness and growth. By Tuesday, anyone with an Internet connection will know every singe publication’s editorial stance on Contra, and it’ll likely be universally-lauded and favorably compared to better, more monumental records (don’t be surprised if In Rainbows or Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga get evoked), which can be regarded as fair and just, or entirely criminal and deplorable.

In a landscape where it’s entirely impossible to separate the bands own context from the music, it’s something you might just need to swallow to really enjoy Contra. It’s a great record, a new high watermark for Vampire Weekend, and a great way to start off another promising year for rock ‘n’ roll—a fun record that frames pop and punk through a modern filter rather gracefully. (XL Recordings, 2010)