For the Record - 02/11/10

With the attention of as many ardent supporters as agitated detractors, Vampire Weekend released its second album last month, the inspired and eclectic “Contra.”

Few groups in recent years have been as divisive as Vampire Weekend. The band’s most fervent backers praise its fresh take on Afro-pop and penchant for clever wordplay while critics accuse the group of ripping off world music acts like Paul Simon and boasting an unapologetic smugness.

On “Contra,” the band retains the bright hooks and cultured lyrics that made it famous, but, in many ways, also shows tremendous musical and lyrical growth. Maybe “Contra” is the release that eliminates the petty bickering surrounding the band and gets it the recognition it deserves.

From the moment Ezra Koenig’s voice first lifts itself from the speakers on “Contra’s” first track, “Horchata,” the former Ivy Leaguers erase any speculation of a sophomore slump. The immediately hummable melody and bookish lyrics of the album’s opener are vintage Vampire Weekend.

But while “Horchata” faithfully adheres to the self-described “Upper West Side Soweto” style the band explored on their eponymous debut, the rest of “Contra” takes its global influences literally, drawing sounds from Africa to Jamaica, Japan to Mexico, and everywhere in between.

After “Horchata’s” tribal beats fade out, the band delivers one of its finest works to date, the insanely catchy “White Sky.” Koenig’s voice reaches the clouds with a cooing falsetto that weaves gently around a jittery polyrhythm, giving the song a pleasantly chilling effect.

From there, the band successfully delves into ska (“Holiday”), Auto-Tune (“California English”), and chamber pop (“Taxi Cab”) without skimping on any of their poppy charm. The reggae-inspired, M.I.A.-sampling “Diplomat’s Son” sounds like something the Clash might have experimented with during their “Sandinista!” days. Despite its eclectic nature, nearly every moment on “Contra” sounds fresh, making for one of the most enjoyable listens since, well, Vampire Weekend’s last release.

Lyrically, “Contra” retains the wealth of high-culture references that riddled Vampire Weekend’s debut. Those who disdained their allusions to Cape Cod, Louis Vuitton, and English grammar the first time around will be quickly turned off by “Contra’s” seemingly endless mentions of modern art, private schools and Manhattan high-life.

But beyond the album’s minefield of elitist quips lies the same self-deprecation and irony that marked their first release. On “California English,” Koenig wonders if a blue-blooded coed will “lose all faith in the good earth” when she abandons her expensive flat and organic toothpaste.

“I Think Ur A Contra,” laments the apathy of a girl who proved to be more interested in “good schools and friends with pools” than anything Koenig had to offer. As varied as “Contra’s” music is, the album’s lyrics retain a consistent theme: the emptiness of upper-class America. You knew there had to be something else on the boys’ Columbia-educated minds than just yacht clubs and campus romances.

Realistically, “Contra” probably won’t win over many of Vampire Weekends harshest critics, but it doesn’t aim to appease them. The band made the LP for fans of accessibility and lyrical substance and, in doing so, made an early contender for best album of 2010.