Time flies. It’s now more than a decade since Vampire Weekend’s self-titled debut launched them as the thinking person’s favourite frat band. Just as surprisingly, it’s been a full six years since their third – and easily worst – album, Modern Vampires of the City, was released. That record was more musically accomplished than the first two, but for me was tonally morose and managed to suck all the joy out of what they did. Like its immediate predecessor, Father of the Bride certainly covers some serious themes (the insignificance of humans in the universe; suicidal impulses; infidelity), but it’s also way more playful and revels in the mundane (weather; kettles; hills; cars). Musically, too, it blends the jangly reggae/indie mash-up of their early work with some rather more ‘serious’ influences (folk, and even jazz here and there). At times, Father of the Bride reminds me of Bob Dylan, and that’s a sure sign of a degree of departure from Vampire Weekend’s twinkly beginnings. Having said that, it’s all done with a wink and a smile – neatly side-stepping the puddles of dull that Modern Vampires of the City too often trudged through. A bit of a surprise that they’ve returned with something this good.