Defending the indefensible – 12: Vampire Weekend

A brief return for a former series on this blog: it seems timely, bearing in mind Vampire Weekend's outrageous current popularity in the States. The following is reprinted from my old Village Voice blog, dated Dec 11, 2007. Its publication led to an offer from bassist Chris Baio for me to "suck his dick" - a generous offer indeed, which I have yet to take him up on.

Letters from Rosie, 3

The third in the series from my coolest correspondent. (Although I'm pretty chuffed at The Gossip saying they reckon me to be the "most important and interesting critic of all time" - I'd be even more chuffed if I believed they were being remotely serious.)

Incidentally, the criteria she's applying to Vampire Weekend - whose bassist once invited me to perform oral sex upon his penis, following this Village Voice column - I applied to The Vines a few years earlier.

Rosie follows...

Brisbane Sounds 2009

OK. Been meaning to get round to this for a while. Last time I encountered one of these, it served as a welcome introduction to the city we're still living in (much to our continued surprise).

Everett True vs Go-Mag

I want to bring your attention to this fine Spanish music magazine, Go-Mag.

Blind Blake vs Coldplay

I've been wondering about different directions this blog could take.

The temptation to post archive material (particularly from Plan B and Careless Talk Costs Lives) is overwhelming. I'd need permission from the designers, editors, original photographers and illustrators, but I don't envisage that to be a problem as this site is non-profit and it's good profile for material that would otherwise be lost.

I'd also like to reprint some of my original The Stranger columns because I'm proud of them, and my Village Voice blogs because those fuckers owe me (a lot of) money and haven't responded to any emails for a few months now. All of this will be easy to do, I'd imagine, once James from my music blogs class teaches me how to embed files.

The downside is that I think it might stop me from posting about new music here, and that's the primary purpose of this blog. (I'm using the word 'new' to refer to music new to me, not 'new' per se.) For example, Blind Blake, whose sweet earthy Bahamian music doesn't disappoint whatsoever, makes me realise how special M. Ward is and how major an influence Harry Belafonte was on my five-year-old self. In the world of Fifties and Sixties world of Blind Blake and the Royal Victoria Hotel in funky Nassau, politics = dance = colonialism = culture = entertainment = human life with all its frailties and humour attached, set to the gentlest of calypso rhythms. My favourite moment 'The Cigar Song' kicks ass harder than 10,000 Korn A-sides and also immediately engages Isaac in a singalong whenever he hears the opening chords strike up.

Maybe I should try and drive the numbers up on this blog, talk about the same dumb-ass mainstream 300 bands that everyone else talks about - Radiohead (yawn), Coldplay (triple yawn), U2 (yawning so hard it feels like the entire world is going to collapse into my mouth and I'm going to choke on the fumes). You know something? What shocks me the most is their fans' lack of imagination and the most rudimentary of research skills.

I mean, why would you listen to this when you could listen to this?

Pah.

The Bats vs The Go-Betweens

Look. I've been sent the new album from The Bats. Frances threw it in with the new Plan B, a speech bubble pasted on top stating that she was sending it on on the condition I should write about it somewhere. Where to write about it, though.