What is a young artist to make of a post-Giuliani, post-9/11 New York
City? Some credit the former mayor’s strategic employment of the
“broken window” philosophy in fighting urban crime and blight—along
with a police force that, putting it kindly, ignored many of the
subtleties of community relations—with helping the city to clean up its
act. Many old haunts that once housed angst-ridden musicians are being
developed into condominiums and shopping centers (it was, for example,
recently announced that the former site of CBGB is being converted into
a store for upscale men’s fashion designer John Varvatos).
At the same time,
the horrific events of 9/11 have created both a newfound sense of
community among many New Yorkers and an intense preoccupation with all
things safety-related. The grime, danger and sin historically
associated with New York
have seemingly been wiped off the cultural landscape of the city,
creating a new atmosphere marked by a cleanliness that threatens to
erase many aspects of the region’s checkered history. This is the New York that the members of band-of-the-moment Vampire Weekend inherited when they arrived in the city in 2002 while attending Columbia University.
Drummer
Christopher Tomson seems almost amused when speaking of the furor
created by such 1990s figures as Giuliani. “People are always talking
shit about Giuliani and things like the smoking ban,” Tomson says.
Above anything else, Tomson says, the city is marked by its
international flavor, a result of the rapid pace of globalization
within the city during the past 15 years. Coming to New York,
Tomson was floored by the “amount of culture available to us. From food
to drama to movies, we were able to get our hands on stuff that was not
widely available throughout much of the country.”
It was in New York
that Tomson discovered the beauty of West African pop music, a genre
that has clearly influenced both his style as a percussionist and the
band’s overall sound. By the early 21st century, such a marriage of
sounds made perfect sense within the city.
And the former
mayor’s attempt to literally remake the city has produced something of
a blank slate within the world of the arts, one that has created the
space for a new generation of New Yorkers to decide what the city’s
culture should look like. Such an atmosphere can be quite liberating,
and it is proving to be a fertile playground for bands like Vampire
Weekend.
While Vampire Weekend has clearly been shaped by the
events of the past 10 years, it is often their indebtedness to the
musical sounds of the 1980s that garners the most attention. It is next
to impossible to get through any press on the band without seeing at
least one reference to Paul Simon’s Graceland (or The Police,
or Peter Gabriel, whom the band actually name-checks in their song
“Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa”). Yet what is perhaps even more fascinating is
the band’s reliance upon the aesthetics of that decade, as the group
often takes to the stage decked out in Oxford shirts, khaki pants and
Docksiders.
“We were always aware of the visual aspect of
presenting yourself as a band,” Tomson says. “There is more to that
presentation than just the music. That’s a part of it that you can’t
overlook.” To Tomson, the uniform of the ’80s-era preppie gives the
band a “unified vibe” that also allows room for audience
interpretation. Such loaded cultural symbols, Tomson says, can serve as
“signifiers for different things for different people,” and the band
seems to revel in the ambiguity of this process. Is the band offering
some sort of commentary on the excesses of wealth? A statement on the
commodification of indie rock? Or do they really just like the look of
affluence? At this point, the band isn’t telling.
Not
surprisingly, this position has made the band ripe for criticism from
those who see the group as nothing more than a symbol of Ivy League
privilege. Yet a close listen to many of the songs that make up Vampire
Weekend’s debut LP reveals a band clearly ill at ease with the
trappings of wealth. By the time the band gets to “Walcott,” the
penultimate song on the album, singer Ezra Koenig, after declaring that
“The Bottleneck is a shitshow/Hyannisport is a ghetto,” is literally
screaming, asking the song’s antagonist, “Don’t you want to get out of
Cape Cod/ Out of Cape Cod tonight?” It’s a rare moment of anger on a
record marked by humor and warmth, and hopefully it’s a direction that
the band will run with.
Vampire Weekend headlines an 8 p.m. show at the Turner Hall Ballroom on Saturday, April 5.