On the last track of Vampire Weekend’s eerie 2024 record, Only God Was Above Us, Ezra Koenig sings earnestly: “The enemy’s invincible / I hope you let it go.” For a band known for dealing with high-browed literary references, pseudo-preppiness, and general cultural skepticism, the song focuses on a straightforward theme, for which it is titled: Hope.
When I read the word ‘hope’, I conjure an image of the iconic high contrast and low-poly Barack Obama poster, a graphic that likely felt essential in its time (I was 7, so honestly, not sure!), given the conditions of the 2008 economic recession. In 2024, however, hope has become less savory: take the return of power politics with Russia’s invasion of the Ukraine or Israel’s incessant and brutal bombardment of Gaza, or the predictably-unpredictable devastation of climate disasters like Hurricane Helene. Hope just seems unfeasible, more ‘delulu’ than ‘demure.’ That’s why Koenig’s interpretation of the word is compelling – what if we regard hope more as a practice, and less as a philosophy?
While scrolling through stories on Instagram today, I encountered a bounty of posts that understandably shared a similar message: ‘if you voted for trump just do me a favor and never speak to me again,’ or ‘please immediately unfollow me.’ I bet you if I scrolled down in my Instagram Archive I could find that I also have storied a similar sentiment at one or more points. Seeing these stories, however, made me recall that our approach hasn’t changed; since (at least) 2016, we have sought to banish these voters from the liberal bubble, but in doing so, have created the spaces that are necessary for right-wing identity and thought to consolidate, becoming so powerful that, as Koenig says, has made the ‘enemy invincible.’
What does it mean to ‘let it go?’ I do not think Koenig is implying to absolve Trump/ers of their actions or beliefs. Instead, I believe that the ‘it’ is the conception that we are separate from the enemy. We must let that ‘it’ go, and move past being merely critical of the right, and start being critical with ourselves. There is no way to move past Trumpism than to develop a politic that is stronger, and more critical, than it.
Self-criticism is what makes Only God Was Above Us such a strong album. Since Vampire Weekend’s inception, critics have lobbed accusations of culture-vulture behavior that were sometimes unwarranted, but perhaps mostly valid. On the opening track, “Ice Cream Piano,” Koenig sings “we're all the sons and daughters of vampires who drained the old world's necks,” an admission of their predatory relationship to art that allows it to become productive. Beyond self-interrogation, the sentiment of mining the past is key to OGWAU, and is inherently key to the current moment of MAGA politics. Nostalgia was a driving force behind both the Harris and Trump campaigns, yet either campaign avoided digging beyond that and unearthing the messiness of American history, of sourcing the past as a place of imperfection and thus one to learn from.
On my walk to class this morning I reflected on what this election means for music. The past four years have spawned some fantastic dance records, from Beyonce’s Renaissance, to Charli’s Brat, or Troye Sivan’s euphoric single, “Rush.” The sense of fun, or elation, or simply brattiness, found in these records is undoubtedly a product of the ways in which COVID and politics become less central in pop culture since 2021, and I cannot foresee the re-election of Trump allowing for the success of this pop-timism. Regard 2017, when Kendrick Lamar’s incisive Damn launched, or Vince Staples career-high Big Fish Theory released, both albums responding to the momentary feelings of political and cultural hopelessness. Or, recall Phoebe Bridger’s haunting Punisher, an album that meandered in still, dark soundscapes, a quiet transmission from the American wasteland.
My close friend SJ posted a poem from a Bertoldt Brecht on her story today called “Motto.” Here it is.
In the dark times, will there be singing?
Yes, there will be singing.
About the dark times.
While very simplistic, I found this poem quite representative of what I think our approach to art should be over the next four years. Like 2016-2020, let’s make art about the dark times. And – like Vampire Weekend – let’s start with writing about ourselves. What are we doing? Why are we losing? And from there – how do we let ‘it’ go? How do we extend a hand out to the population we’ve defined as the ‘other’ side of America? Should we banish them, or instead, invite them into our investigation of the ways in which we’ve all collectively failed each other?
Purchase Only God Was Above Us here: https://www.vampireweekend.com/.
There will be singing- love you Reed 💜
This is so insightful! Come on Vampire Weekend x Brecht. True Hope is the ACTIVE practice of reckoning with darkness within ourselves and the art of this time will hopefully not merely inflate the liberal bubble but deliberately pop it.