Vampire Weekend brilliantly stretches its own definition on Father Of The Bride

Vampire Weekend fans had plenty of reason for apprehension by the time Father Of The Bride was announced: Frontman and CEO Ezra Koenig had referred to the New York band’s nearly flawless first three albums as a trilogy, now ended, which seemed to imply some kind of radical shift. Koenig’s main creative partner in the band, multi-instrumentalist and producer Rostam Batmanglij, departed in 2016. The working title was the seemingly jokey Mitsubishi Macchiato. There would be singers other than Koenig featured prominently, and there would be 18(!) songs. Also, Koenig claimed to have had a songwriting revelation after a Kacey Musgraves concert, leading him to more direct lyrics. The album was supposed to come out a year ago, which would have been a full five years after the excellent Modern Vampires Of The City. In the meantime, Koenig spent some creative energy making anime for Netflix. None of those developments foretold particularly good things for Father Of The Bride.
But worry was unwarranted: Vampire Weekend’s fourth album is adventurous, joyful, weird, and familiar in all the right ways. It knows when to leap and when to look to the band’s foundation; it stretches in several directions and then snaps back into focus. It’s unmistakably a Vampire Weekend record, yet unmistakably not quite like the others. Yeah, it’s a little too long and occasionally strays off course, but its meandering suits its ambition. Father Of The Bride is unlikely to find the universal praise that the immaculately constructed Modern Vampires did, but it will reward close listens. It’s not perfect, but it’s perfect for this moment in the band’s evolution.
There are plenty of songs to satisfy traditionalists, or at least those who were all-in on Modern Vampires: “Bambina” is sweetly familiar and straightforward, chugging along before dropping everything but Koenig’s voice in the chorus. “Spring Snow” adds a Latin rhythm and some Vocoder “woo-woo”s, but otherwise feels like classic Vampire Weekend. “Harmony Hall”—which made its way to the world pre-album-release, along with five other songs—is absolutely gorgeous, a melancholy mid-tempo track with an irresistible chorus that Koenig borrowed from his own song, Modern Vampires’ “Finger Back.” (Maybe he felt that the key line—“I don’t wanna live like this / But I don’t wanna die”—deserved more attention than it got on his first try.) But those are the exception in an album filled with gentle surprises.