I know it's only rock 'n' roll, but Vampire Weekend really seem to like it. The overarching tone of their latest Toronto show was one of irreverence, as the group never seemed to take anything too seriously, least of all themselves. Music is made to be enjoyed, so why not do whatever is the most fun — whether that means playing your most famous song twice in a row or fumbling through a slapdash selection of some well-known cover songs.
For at least a couple albums now, Vampy Weeks have been in silly mode — an era they telegraphed circa 2018–2019 with their winky jam band fixation and love of the Jokerman font. And that's very much still the vibe, as the band took the stage in Toronto wearing all-grey ensembles à la a dystopian movie, with roadies donning reflective "VW Tunnel Crew" work vests.
With an early-fall drizzle misting the lawn at Budweiser Stage, the core trio of frontman Ezra Koenig, bass Chris Baio and drummer Chris Tomson initially appeared with a stripped-down setup, performing a few tunes lined up at the front of the stage, with a massive Vampire Weekend backdrop behind them. Soon, Chekhov's backdrop fell down, revealing the full seven-piece live lineup, who were arranged in front of a Brazil-ian tunnel entrance with trimmings of reflective tape presumably mean to approximate the 20th century NYC aesthetic of recent album Only God Was Above Us.
Now with five albums under their belt, Vampy Weeks had enough material to fill out a slightly-too-long two-and-a-half hour set while still leaving some catalogue highlights on the table (there was no "Oxford Comma" or "Horchata," and only two songs from Modern Vampires of the City). While fan cheers suggested a clear preference for the African-inspired pop of the band's first album, the band shone brightest when putting a goofy spin on deep cuts: they performed the non-album cut "Ottoman" as a cheeky ska ditty that Koenig called "Ska-ttoman," and the jam band scales of "Sunflower" got even sillier when the band sped way up for a country hoedown.
The humour might have been obnoxious if the bands didn't have the melodies or the musicianship to counterbalance — but they had plenty of both, using piano, sax, violin and two drum kits to weave intricate orchestrations on Only God Was Above Us cuts like "Classical" and "Ice Cream Piano," and bringing out their best pop hooks on "Harmony Hall" and "This Life."
They saved their most famous song, "A-Punk," for late in the set, prompting a big scream-along of "Ey! Ey! Ey! Ey!" Immediately after, a fan near the front shouted, "Play 'A-Punk'" — and, following a moment's banter with the fan, they actually did it, running through the whole song again and sounding even more energized than the first time. It was a true moment of spontaneity (judging by the band's setlists, they haven't been playing it twice at other shows), and when Koenig said that this was one of the best shows on the tour, I actually believed him.
For the encore, they took fan requests — but, since they're in their comedic era, original Vampire Weekend songs were banned. Instead, fans suggested random songs and the musicians fumbled their way through snippets that ranged from a few bars to full verses and choruses. It was a chaotic 15-or-so minutes, with fans screaming out requests and holding up signs, and then the band fumbling their way through songs they seemed to know pretty well (the Ghostbusters theme song, ABBA's "Dancing Queen") and ones they barely knew at all (Tool's "Schism," Chappell Roan's "HOT TO GO!").
It was an impressive party trick, since the band's unrehearsed covers were amazingly good for people who had never played these songs before — but, at the same time, they were much, much sloppier than one would normally expect to see at such a big rock show, and Koenig ended each snippet by apologizing to the original artist.
"Is this your favourite part of the show or your least favourite part of the show?" Koenig asked in the middle of the encore. Least favourite, obviously! I had sympathetic pangs for all the people sitting on the lawn as the rain grew increasingly heavy throughout the evening, since no one deserves to get soaked while listening to Vampire Weekend try to figure out "Chop Suey!"
But even if I would have rather heard "Oxford Comma" than a messy version of Rush's "Tom Sawyer" as a tribute to the local heroes, it was unlike anything I've ever seen at a concert before. As Vampire Weekend become a legacy band, they seem content to amuse themselves, and their wacky enthusiasm is contagious.