Vampire Weekend - "Classical"

As often with Vampire Weekend, I find “Classical” objectively lovely, melodically deft, overflowing with instrumental flourishes, and difficult to connect with emotionally. But their elegance usually benefits from up-tempo urgency, and they keep it moving.

The expansive, tangible production reminds a bit of early Broken Social Scene. Paul Thomas Anderson said he had to scuff up the film grain on Phantom Thread so it didn’t look like an episode of The Crown. Vampire Weekend seem similarly mindful to leaven elegance with grit, overcooking their sound so the fried edges start to show, sending guitar glissandos slurring through the background, buzzed and baldly off beat.

And there are undeniable sugar rush pop pleasures on offer: the central guitar/synth hook spinning through like a fluorescent carousel; the bridge that weds gentle sax skronk and dinner piano cascades; and the grand finale, a sudden snap of the song’s nervy Fatboy Slim shuffle to 4/4 snare-stomp hoedown.

Bullion (feat. Carly Rae Jepsen) - "Rare"

The Most Serene Bedroom Synth Pop and almost more sketch than song; vamping for four minutes, doing just the shyest strut. Hushed vocals like two tired young parents mumbling into the microphone between late-night feedings, trying not to wake the sleeping baby next door. Precious but not twee and almost painfully emotionally guarded, “Rare” prods at a feeling it seems unable to articulate, settling at last for its vague mantra: Deep in the heart, deep in the heart. 

It charms with the clever care of its craftmanship though: the gentle syncopation woven throughout, the vocal melody dancing on tip-toe through the open spaces just behind the song's insistent low-light pulse; the immaculate, velvet clarity of the production. And then building confidence in its second half, it ventures a few humble rock-star moves, slo-mo synth solo on the bridge, layering vocals with soaring falsetto runs in the coda, until, oops -- we woke the baby, song's over.

Mannequin Pussy - "Sometimes"

A liminal punk paradox: a passionate expression of ambivalence. I set myself ablaze / sometimes. I love the twilit gliding rush of this song, open strumming that circles and paces but never manages to resolve, and feels like it reconfigures itself on the fly. I am a sucker for a type of song I reductively mentally file as "New Order rip-offs" and while this is not one, there is a trace of that here, and maybe this is the closest Mannequin Pussy gets.  Clean chiming verses like a dream of running in slow motion through the city at dusk, and then (kicked off by a truly magnificent Marisa Dabice scream) the crushing bridge arrives like the sleepwalker jolted wide awake and sprinting through traffic, horns blaring, buses and delivery trucks bearing down. And finally, fully one-third devoted to the coda, where the song is allowed to gently disintegrate, and the spirit ascends. 

Immediately satisfying and subtle, "Sometimes" is a grower. It was one of my favorite songs of last year, and I like it even more now.