Worst Horchata Ever

vampireweekend-contra

Vampire Weekend drains the blood out of another helpless tune, but this time its personal.  Did they have to ply their patent “Upper West Side Soweto” to a subject as close to my heart as the delicious cinnamon spiced rice drink otherwise known as horchata?  The new track, off the soon to be released album Contra, does a pretty good job of crystallizing the group’s M.O. — appropriating ethnic rhythms and instrumentation and white-washing them of any trace of dynamic integrity.  Don’t get me wrong, there is a time and place for Vampire Weekend just as there is a time and place for Valium; I imagine this would be great music to cook an egg white omelette in your new 1600 sq ft condo.  

The actual song is plush with the melodic percussion of marimba and mbira while the dadaesque lyrics are like a verbal rorschach of yuppy nonchalance: the horchata ambivalently tied to (I can only assume) a San Pellegrino aranciata.  Its tastefully done and marks no decline in the quality of the group’s song writing.  Plenty of reason for fans to hold high hopes for Contra.  But the music is about as challenging as bedding the town skeez.  After listening to the song a couple of times for this review I’m ready to blast Coachwhips’ Banger’s Vs. Fuckers on loop until my brain is numb.  I would give it two thumbs down, but I think my sagging genitalia is a more appropriate mark.

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