By Elizabeth Seward

The Ting Pavilion on October 2 before Vampire Weekend performed.

On Wednesday, October 2, I had the opportunity to see one of my favorite bands, Vampire Weekend, play live at the Ting Pavillion in Charlottesville, Virginia. 

The story of Vampire Weekend begins in the dorms of Columbia University, where singer Ezra Koenig, bassist Chris Baio, drummer Chris Tomson, and former producer Rostam Batmanglij met as students in the early 2000s. Bonded by their shared love for music, the group began crafting songs that would eventually become their self-titled debut album. Their first live performance was in a talent show designed for the students of the Engineering Student Council Battle of the Bands. 

They placed third—out of four. 

Through their time at Columbia, they continued to play and create music. Ivy League fraternity parties became their most common venue in this early stage. Despite their humble beginnings, they soon started gaining attention for their combination of musical genres—a mix of indie rock, reggae, ska, West African drum meters, and clever lyrics.

The band never quite fit into a specific category. They often referenced esoteric topics like the Cambodian Hindu-Buddhist temple Angkor Watt and the 18th-century shogunate of Japan Tokugawa Shogunat. Somehow, their lyrics are still ear-worm-inducing, even if the listener has no idea what they’re singing about.

When the band dressed in preppy Ralph Lauren sweaters and sang about privileged experiences, many critics were quick to point out the disconnect between their West African sound and their seemingly elitist persona. But Vampire Weekend never seemed to mind these comments. Their polished, sophisticated image was part of the allure—an oxymoron of Nigerian rhythms and catchy pop melodies.

Our view of the opening band from our General Admission seats.

Despite the early backlash, the band’s music continued to evolve. Their eponymous debut album in 2008 introduced the world to songs like “Oxford Comma” and “A-Punk,” both of which became iconic anthems in the indie-pop world. Fast-forward to their fifth and latest album, this year’s Only God Was Above Us, and you’ll find a band that’s matured, moving beyond their early themes of youthful irony and Ivy League wit into more expansive reflections on identity, relationships, and adulthood. While the academic references remain, their sound has grown, touching on topics like mid-life regret and generational dissonance. 

Lucky for me, Vampire Weekend played songs from all five of their albums on October 2.  

I went with my parents and my friend Britton Berson (’25), and after a series of lucky encounters, Berson and I found ourselves in the pit (despite our General Admission tickets).   The opener, indie rock band Cults, warmed up the crowd with their whimsical indie rock tunes, like their most popular song, “Always and Forever.” But the real magic began when Vampire Weekend took the stage.

In our General Admission seats, Berson and I met a local named Rhonda during the opening act. She had free tickets from work but wasn’t familiar with the band. She showed us her tickets, which were clearly marked for the pit, and asked if we thought they were actually valid for that section. “Yes,” I said, laughing, surprised she wasn’t already down there. Then, without a second thought, Rhonda turned to us and asked, “Do y’all want them?”

The view from the pit.

We couldn’t believe our luck.

Suddenly, we were in the pit. It was a sea of excited Millennials, like Morgan, a girl who knew every lyric as if she’d written them herself. “This is my favorite band of all time,” she told me between songs, explaining how she’d been waiting for this moment since her 14th birthday, when she got her first Vampire Weekend CD.

Later, Berson and I met Chris Messmore, a second-year student at the University of Virginia who had no idea what Vampire Weekend was until that night. His uncle had given him the ticket at the last minute, and, despite having a Statistics midterm at 8 a.m. the next day, Chris decided to experience the band for himself. “This band is swell,” Messmore said, “That violin, though—it’s different,” he said, nodding along as Baio launched into his solo in “Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa.” By the time they got to their most recognizable hit, “A-Punk,” Chris was belting out misheard lyrics like a lifelong fan.

Vampire Weekend performing “Ya Hey” at the end of the night.

Vampire Weekend delivered a setlist packed with fan favorites—”Holiday,” “Diane Young,” and “Sunflower,” the latter of which made my dad’s night, even without Steve Lacy’s guitar work. My personal highlight of the night was when they played “Capricorn.” Hearing its simple lyrics live, with the delicate piano and captivating backbeat, was everything I’d hoped for. For a moment, I thought I might cry.

By the time they closed with “Ya Hey,” Berson’s favorite song, the entire crowd seemed to reach a collective zen. With what Genius Lyrics describes as a “distinct religious tone,” this final song served as a benediction over the crowd.  

Vampire Weekend’s performance was as unforgettable as their music. But it wasn’t just the music that made the night special—it was the way the concert brought together people from all walks of life. There were people like Rhonda and Chris, who came in knowing nothing about the band, and people like my parents and Morgan, who have followed Vampire Weekend for years. Then there was me, heading home after the performance, inspired enough to write an entire article about it.

All photos by Elizabeth Seward.