There was once a time when ‘preppy’ was not merely an obligatory term used to describe a four-piece indie rock band from New York. Seriously. I know, I know... I’m sure there are positively legions of you too young to remember such a quaint era. But that was the ‘beforetime’. Specifically, it was before Vampire Weekend hove into view with their self-titled debut album.

Ezra et al return with Contra, a record with a considerable weight of expectation and anticipation surrounding its release. We’ve all heard the terms; ‘sophomore slump’, ‘second album syndrome’... After all, Vampire Weekend’s first album succeeded largely because it was a breath of fresh air, so it would be hardly surprising if a technically better follow-up record, through no fault of its own, bombed purely because the group’s novelty value had worn off.

Whether that happens or not is purely down to the people who buy the record, but for the most part Contra delivers in spades. Certainly, it retains the quirky (another adjective quickly becoming mandatory for this lot) sensibility that made the first album so enjoyable while offering enough freshness to ward off the dreaded accusation that the sound has become ‘stale’. The arrangements are luscious, the production perfect, and Koenig’s lyrics are as indecipherable as before.

Apparently this album is more ‘political’ than the Ivy Leaguers’ debut – the Contras, after all being the vicious right-wing guerrilas in Nicaragua during the 70s and 80s... What do you mean you’ve never heard of them?! Look up the Iran-Contra scandal then, you historically-ignorant philistines! Ahem, where was I...? Oh yeah. While I’d love to call ‘bullshit’ on that whole notion – it certainly doesn’t sound like Sandinista! anyway, the record it’s supposedly a counterweight to – I haven’t the foggiest idea what Ezra is singing about so I’ll have to just leave that one for now.
 

In spite of the bountiful instrumentation throughout, the best songs on the album are the subtle, soft, dreamy tracks – White Sky leaps to mind, as does Taxi Cab with its simply lovely piano melody. These are the tracks that make the most immediate effect, and though most of the rest of the fare requires repeated listens it is an effort well-rewarded. Horchata and Cousins might not seem like much at first, initially sounding remarkably as if the band got tired of recording and just lashed in a couple of old demos rejected from the first album, but they’ll hook you in if you let them, mark my words.

Most importantly, Vampire Weekend still have the knack of penning insanely catchy songs. Giving Up The Gun’s stop-start, staccato drumming can’t help but have you nod your head in spite of yourself, but it’s the song’s infectious tune that’ll keep you coming back. The woozily meandering Diplomat’s Son is pretty nifty as well. There’s the odd dodgy moment or two – the use of autotune on California English is as rubbish as it is baffling – but precious few to really harp on about.

There’s always that easy-to-detect smugness about this bunch of blokes who perhaps are a tad too clever for their own good, but consider this: If you were making music like this, wouldn’t you be smug?

- Sebastian Clare

Check out the first single from Contra: