In some ways, the new record's relaxed aesthetic is a reaction against their first two albums. Koenig, Batmanglij, and Rechtshaid all talk about discarding old habits during our talks-- a task made easier thanks to Rechtshaid's admitted unfamiliarity with the band’s music. “We had a running joke throughout the making of the record-- they would reference their own songs and I’d give them a blank stare,” he tells me. “They’d say, ‘You’re such an asshole, you’ve never even listened to our music.'” Rechtshaid then says something that may make Vampire Weekend diehards scream in frustration: “Sometimes we really felt like we had a banger, like, ‘This could be on the radio.’ But it would sound too normal, so it was back to the drawing board. It didn't matter how great it was."

Another factor drawing away from the festival-ready cheer of their earlier material is the fact that, at 28, Koenig is no longer the post-collegiate wunderkind (though he still looks like he could slip into a lecture or two without drawing a second glance). Spectres of mortality float through the album, and on the wistful "Don't Lie", the singer asks: “I want to know-- does it bother you?/ The low click of a ticking clock/ There’s a headstone right in front of you/ And everyone I know.” Still, there’s a conscious effort to keep the darkness in check. Like how they chose to call the adrenaline-pumping single "Diane Young" instead of "Dying Young". “I had this feeling that the world doesn’t want a song called ‘Dying Young’," says Koenig, "it just sounded so heavy and self-serious, whereas ‘Diane Young’ sounded like a nice person’s name.”

“The perfect tone is halfway between deeply serious and totally fucking around,” he continues. “If you don’t give Vampire Weekend credit for any type of self-awareness or humor, you’re always going to have this crazy impression of us.” He tells me about the lyrics to the song “Unbelievers”, which some have pegged as some kind of atheist anthem. But to Koenig, it’s a more nuanced piece about how confusing it can be to make decisions about what to believe in as a young person today, and how people with conflicting beliefs about the world interact with one another. “Even when you’re pretty confident in some things, like loving somebody,” he says, “there are still a million other things that contribute to anxiety about the future and the choices you’re making.” We settle on an encapsulation: millennial unease. "I like that phrase," he says, with a little exasperated laugh. "It's a concise way to describe a lot of the feelings on the album."