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Vampire Weekend

Brixton Academy, London: 17 February 2010

Wonderfully blissful pop, Vampire Weekend bops onto the rosy lit stage, arms extended, baring all their (real) tightey whitey teeth to brighten up grotty Brixton with marketable Prozac music. For a relatively fresh band that can span two hours with (what it seems) their entire back catalogue, without stopping, is a tasty feat indeed. Trouble is, with little crowd interaction, and a hearty overture, what's the difference from listening to them on your tinny laptop speakers?

Conditioning we say! Once the four piece have crawled into our consciousness with their wiley whisk of African tropics and fifties guitar distortion, it's difficult to escape from their enthusiastic live show. Yet despite their return to London to parade the loosely thrilling sophomore album (branded by the white-girl-next-door backdrop), the yodels of 'White Sky' are soon cut short as Vampire Weekend pay tribute to their fans, possibly too early, with go-getting 'Cape Cod Kwassa Kwass', 'M79' and 'I Stand Corrected' two songs in.

Crumbling into the heaving middle class expectations, Vampire Weekend should be stumbling towards a set blurred by the hostile tension to hear their biggest song 'A-Punk'. Nonetheless, proving their worth in the adrenaline charged 'Cousins', Ezra Koenig' strained drawl and Chris Tomson's percussional pummelling appeals to the needy crowd. While 'Cousins' may be the counterpart to 'A-Punk', the live achievement is the arrival of the 'M79' female string quartet adding to the grandeur chandelier roots of their act.

Showcasing their short-spaced progression as a band, Vampire Weekend unveils the delirious trance drums and warped vocals in 'California English', to the victimless lyrical acceptance in slow burner 'Taxi Cab'. But at points, without the casual conversational break, the night turns into an attacking experience, with the faceless four-piece simply performing their touring duty, and that's when the flaws are picked away. Where almost every written track is entrenched in the vastly chirpy, they become borderline dozy and repetitive; the fun is soon suckered out of the engaging night, all due to an excessive set list on a wet weekday.

Thankfully, what keeps us smiling throughout is the oh-so-White (and hopefully tongue in cheek) bouncing entrance to DJ Kool's 'Let Me Clear My Throat'. Yes, they did indeed “Jump”.

Words: Gemma Dempster
Photography: Burak Cingi