The boys of Vampire Weekend offer a bright and catchy take on Graceland era Paul Simon complete with a mild sense of cultural imperialism via toe tapping, quick-play-it-again pop. White and weightless as sheets hung out to dry on a summer's day, the album comes well stocked with Talking Heads jangle, ska-lite rave-ups, some self consciously tart if clever rhymes and a healthy dose of nostalgia for the over privileged collegiate life of leisure. My most cynical self projects a shelf life rivaling that of free range eggs. However eggs are simple and delicious and almost impossible to mess up. Bon appetit.