When Vampire Weekend arrived onstage they numbered only three and were bunched together at the front with a large curtain draped behind them, obscuring their backdrop. By the time this marathon set ended two and a half hours later, they’d more than doubled in number and had made full use of their surroundings, a shift which summed up a constantly changing, often contradictory show.
One of those paradoxes was the setting itself. Vampire Weekend are an expansive band, but they still seem a strange fit in large arenas, and going by the amount of sections tarped off they’re not the easiest sell to the public in such venues either. Those there were enthusiastic, but there came points when you wondered how much more energy would have been present in smaller surroundings.
Still, there was a good reception for support act Teenage Fanclub, even if wheeling on the much loved Glasgow veterans for around 30 minutes was a strange choice. They ran through a smattering of material from their best-loved albums, with "The Concept" stretched into a hazy jam. Such extended work-outs were just a precursor to what the night’s headliners offered, though.
First there was that stripped back opening, with a quickfire delivery of “Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa”, "Holiday” and the call and response vocal of “One (Blake’s Got a New Face) kick-starting matters with the Afrobeat flavoured indie pop with which they made their name, bassist Chris Baio shuffling and jerking around onstage like an animal had been comically dropped down his trousers. Then the curtain dropped, and “Ice Cream Piano” from this year’s Only God Was Above Us album to signify a more layered, varied approach.
That’s not to say old tracks were then abandoned. Third album Modern Vampires of the City held up particularly well from a blissful “Step” to a version of “Diane Young” blasted out with Springsteenesque zeal, all blaring saxophone and powerful rhythm from drummer Chris Tomson and an additional percussionist.
Yet the new tracks were the ones to make most use of the bulked-up band and extra musicians. If “Gen-X Cops” clattered in like a klaxon call, all urgency and drama, then the flighty rhythms of “Connect”, with considerable piano and singer Ezra Koenig shrouded in smoke throughout, was a more complex creature.
Koenig is a distinctive frontman, both for his playful vocal and the boyishly cheerful way he would introduce songs, like a teenager on best behaviour for his parents. He served as a centrepiece during more surreal moments that crept in, from a dancer in a high-vis vest who suddenly appeared during the dreamy rock of “Classical” to the kaleidoscopic jam that engulfed a cover of Koenig’s collaboration with SBTRKT, “New Dorp, New York", with the billowing smoke, flashing lights and hammering beat making it feel like you were taking part in an arcane ritual. Both it, and the more languid “The Surfer” that followed, were a little too lengthy and the crowd cooled as they progressed.
If that flirted with self-indulgence then the encore consummated the relationship. Koenig announced this was the section “after the show” and that the group would now take requests for covers. These veered from a stuttering attempt at Bjork’s “It's Oh So Quiet” to a full-hearted “Chop Suey” by System of a Down, but the whole 15 minute section went on ridiculously long, and a steady stream of punters exited. It felt like an undoubtedly talented band just showing off, and even old favourites “Campus” and “Walcott” couldn’t stop a flat finale befalling a gig that mixed brilliance and excess.
