Photo by Wes Miles

Pitchfork: A lot has changed in the world of independent music since you broke out with Vampire Weekend eight years ago, and I feel like your trajectory is symbolic of that shift. For instance, there are probably more young artists in Brooklyn who would rather produce a song for Carly Rae Jepsen than start an indie rock band at this point.

RB: That’s a really interesting thing that’s happened. What happened to all the bands? Is New York responsible for it, or is it just that bands are corny now? I mean, I’m always down for people shifting the paradigm. I understand why that music seems sort of irrelevant now, because so much of what makes people respond to songs is about sound. In that way, production has become more important than it ever has been. When people go to see Skrillex do a set, it’s not just about the elements in his music. It’s about how those elements are reacting off each other, like how he’s side-chaining the whole mix against the kick. People are responding to that in addition to the songwriting, which is always gonna be important. But I think that sort of thing alters the landscape of why people see live music.

At the same time, I love organic instruments too. You can’t really put me in either camp. I understand the idea of me being “a dude in a band,” because people got to know me through Vampire Weekend, but it has caused a lot of frustration for me because I came from a different place from the get-go. Even though I’ve been making electronic music since I was 14, it’s hard for people to see you as a producer with a musical identity when you’re contextualized in a band that performs on a stage. I mean, maybe people don’t see the last Vampire Weekend album as electronic music, but I do—if you were with us when we were making it, you would think of it as electronic music.

Pitchfork: When you’re working with more pop-leaning artists, how would you describe the signature you’re trying to make as a producer?

RB: I want it to be next-level, and I feel that same way about all the different kinds of music that I make. It's not like I put a hat on, like, “Now I'm making pop music, it's time to throw out everything I care about.” I see it as one thing. It's a little bit hard for me to talk about it from a third-person perspective, and I also don't want to say that stuff out loud—I gotta let there be some magic in the mystery there. But hopefully, in 10 years, you'll look back on all the music that I've made and be able to write a thinkpiece about it. [laughs]

Pitchfork: Do you think that it’s ironic that Vampire Weekend sell more albums than the more overt pop artists that you've worked with? It can make those sorts of categories feel especially meaningless.

RB: Well, who knows if anyone will ever sell albums again. In the last two years we've experienced the end of physical—or even download—sales. But cultural impact is a harder thing to measure when people are streaming music.