(B-side to single, "Diane Young" from album, "Modern Vampires Of The City")
Why exactly does pop music endure?
A combination of factors has assured its success over the past five decades, though unquestionably the driving essence has been the way it continues, with ingenuity, to master the art of surprise. Success, it seems, is borne of revolution – the Pistols proved it with “Never Mind The Bollocks”, Madonna’s done it (a thousand times over) and Skrillex caught us all out with some of the first mainstream dubstep in 2011.
However, it ought to be said that a defining moment of glory needn’t encapsulate the genesis of an entirely new sound or style – sometimes, against all odds and the grain of a more conglomerate progressiveness, like the ever-evolving indie rock scene, moments of genius stand isolated and oddly special in their uniqueness.
“Step” is just this – an album track from Vampire Weekend’s overly-experimental and considerably bland second album “Modern Vampires Of The City”, relegated to the flipside of the “Diane Young” single and a mere fleeting moment in the last year’s music, having enjoyed a peak UK chart position of #50 in the dying days of the summer.
Perhaps it’s the twinkling harpsichords. Maybe it’s that tear-jerkingly beautiful chord progression. There’s even scope for it to be the simplicity of the rhythm section, bounding delicately along behind a wall of reverb-laden, hazily produced lyrical poetry. I don’t suppose I can really get to the bottom of it all – I just know that this eclectic mix of arty noise and melancholy aesthetic caught my attention more than anything else managed this year. A short vocal sample opens the song, preceding the ensuing keyboard dual, a spiraling spindle of ivory jangle whose intricate intertwining form bounces lightly between the soft thumps of drum and bass, showering sprinkles of tambourine raining in from above. It truly is a winsome machine and one could watch it tick over forever and a day.
My favourite thing about it has to be that despite its wholesome ticks and turns, a sinister oddity lurks within the workings of the shy beast, manifesting itself in the unexpected lurches of the track, from the isolated harpsichord and vocal tracks at the second chorus to the emptier, resounding baroque-pop-style section beginning at 3:04. It’s bizarre and removed from pop conventions – it doesn’t conform to expectations and it’s discordance disservices its few radio-friendly aspects, but regardless there is a curious warmth, emanating largely from the choral backing vocals – and I like it, I have to say.
So why was it song of the year?
I like it yes, but why this most prestigious of accolades?
Vampire Weekend hardly maintained the media presence of say, David Bowie or Daft Punk this year – right?
Well…yes…right.
For me, the fantastically brilliant thing about “Step” is not the self-questioning lyrics, exploring a relationship between music and listener, and nor is it the quirky instrumentation. For me in fact, it is simply that “Step” wasn’t handed gleefully and materialistically to the masses on a plate – you had to find it and, subsequently, listeners felt it. It’s always the case with these songs lurking on side B, but I think particularly, in a year whose music scene was dominated by giant steps in surprise promotion, there’s something to be said for the fact that such a sad fragment of organic and rounded musical perfection remained a secret so well-kept.
“Step” is by no means the most well written song of 2013 – who would I be to determine that. It’s not the best selling either, nor the track best suited to an optimally wide audience. What it is, is a reminder of how good pop music works, from both the perspective of the providing artists and indeed the now often-saturated consumer – maybe the tainted heart and soul of the sonics reflect that. What do you think?
★★★★★
Versions of "Step"
B-side Single/Album Version - 4:12