Fun fact: my mom regularly does her yoga practice to Vampire Weekend's self-titled debut. Surveying the vast crowd around me, a lot of other people's mothers are also into Vampire Weekend. And dads too. I saw more than a couple gray-haired dudes in Wranglers sipping Bud Lights and bobbing along to "Oxford Comma." Then, of course, there were the kids. So many joyous, pubescent kids in face-paint, sneaking drags off the bad influence friend's cigarettes while mom was distracted by "A-Punk." Say what you will about Vampire Weekend, (Dave Bazan recently called their music nothing but songs about expensive sweaters,) the brainy group's melding of safe, Paul Simon-esque interpretations of African folk music with peppy, preppy indie pop is clearly a winner with this crowd.
Ezra Koenig and the rest of his Ivy League band did not disappoint. In front of a huge psuedo Mayan-calendar-lyrical backdrop, Vampire Weekend blasted through songs, mostly from their hugely popular debut, and a few from the more recent Contra. There wasn't a ton of stage chit-chat, but our art director (who was aproximated one mile closer to the stage than I) was amused by drummer Chris Tomson's Phish shirt, paying tribute to the band that would headline the night.