JOPLIN, Mo. —
Vampire Weekend's last album, "Contra," peaked in the almost-title track "I Think Ur a Contra," the last song on the album. After the music drops out and frontman Ezra Koenig croons to an unnamed girl, "You wanted good schools and friends with pools; you're not a contra," he has a realization.
"You said, 'Never pick sides, never choose between two,'" he sings, "but I just wanted you. I just wanted you."
The New York band's third full-length release, "Modern Vampires of the City," an instant classic and the best album of the year, feels like a sequel to that song. It is a record about being on the cusp of real, out-of-your-20s, unromantic adulthood and the terror that accompanies the narrowing of your options.
"Even when you're pretty confident in some things, like loving somebody," Koenig said in a recent interview with Pitchfork.com, "there are still a million other things that contribute to anxiety about the future and the choices you're making."
On "Don't Lie," one of the albums numerous standouts, Koenig asks, "I want to know, does it bother you? The low click of a ticking clock?" adding, almost as an afterthought, "There's a headstone right in front of you, and everyone I know."
Mortality and crises of faith abound on "Modern Vampires," as dark as an album composed during a writing retreat to Martha's Vineyard can be.
Not to be hyperbolic, but the album it most reminds me of is The Beach Boys' "Pet Sounds," another emotionally resonant album from a band previously known only for their sunny pop songs. And like Brian Wilson, Vampire Weekend, working with producer Ariel Rechtshaid, uses all the tricks of modern recording, such as radically pitch-shifting vocals, to push its sound in a new direction without ever sacrificing melody or warmth.
The result is a beautifully weird pop album, colored by a blending of discursive musical influences, from hip-hop to '70s pop to world music, all filtered through Vampire Weekend's distinct sensibility. It feels like a piece of the band's two previous albums, but also the culmination of their promise.
'The Great Gatsby'
There is a lot to snicker at in Baz Luhrmann's "The Great Gatsby": the introduction of DiCaprio as Gatsby with fireworks and "Rhapsody in Blue," Carey Mulligan's face superimposed over the night sky, the way Luhrmann handles the book's themes with the restraint of a T-shirt cannon rapid-firing Ed Hardy tank tops.
But how is this any of this more ridiculous than the excess of your average overlong summer action blockbuster?
The same part of my brain that delights at the most absurd stunts in the "Fast and Furious 6" trailer -- which looks amazing -- lit up during Luhrmann's gaudy version of 1920s revelry. I'm happy to embrace anything that broadens the range of movie spectacle beyond comic books and action franchises.
- DiCaprio's suits, tan and hair should've all received separate billing. As fine as he was in the role, their combined magnificence did a lot of the heavy lifting.
- Tobey Maguire's sweater game was on fire. Not since Cosby's prime have we been treated to such knitted splendor.
- The movie, admittedly, would've been better if Lurid Luhrmann's whiz-bang effects had been dialed back about 25 percent, but they didn't completely blunt the film's emotional impact, particularly the climactic scene at the Plaza Hotel between Gastby and racist upper-crust lout Tom Buchanan.
- I liked Mulligan as Daisy, particularly her voice, but Elizabeth Debick, playing professional golfer Jordan Baker with a languorous glamor, is the movie's breakout star.
Mariah Carey and Miguel: "#Beautiful"
Has anyone named included a hashtag in their child's name yet? Will there be a generation of kids named "#Aiden" and "#Sophie"?
I wish Andy Rooney were still alive to remind us all that when he was a younger man the hashtag went by its proper name "the number sign," back before even the invention of the keyboard or push-number telephone corrupted it into the "pound key" and civilization began its downward descent into the bowels of hells.
"I suppose kids today call it a hashtag-2 pencil," Rooney would say. "Or do children today even know what pencils are? Oh, good God, must time strip me of everything that's familiar until I'm screaming, alone, into a fathomless void? Answer me, America!"
But aside from the troublesome creep of hashtags into daily life, this is a really good pop song. Breezy, soulful, catchy -- it's more a continuation of the indomitable Miguel's winning streak than a comeback for Mariah Carey. But her star power gives it strong song-of-the-summer potential.