So far I’ve steadfastly avoided playing the game, joining the end of year rundown bunfight, or chasing those clicks.


If you really forced me; if I had to name a favourite track from 2013.

I’d hesitate, and hedge my bets with a top 3 if I could get away with it, but in my heart I know I’d be thinking about Hannah Hunt.

It’s surprising, really; after the exhilaration of Oxford Comma and A-Punk from Vampire Weekend’s self-titled debut, its follow-up, Contra, felt anti-climactic (although it might be due another listen). I didn’t, then, have lofty hopes for Modern Vampires of the City, but what a revelation it turned out to be; any thoughts of Vampire Weekend’s supposed preppiness are tossed aside as you succumb to the sincerity spell the album casts.

Nestled in the middle of the running order, Hannah Hunt is a bitterwseet story of escaping lovers touched by reality. The tender closing piano melody, and Ezra Koenig’s plaintive cry for help are almost enough to make grown men weep. Or so I’m told.

If I can’t trust you, then damn it Hannah

There’s no future, there’s no answer