Interview with "Vampire Weekend" [Clickbait]

Illustration courtesy of Kristen Cawog // @kristencawog

I remember when I first got an iPod Nano. I was like eight or so. I don’t know how I found it or where I heard it, but somehow, through some sort of divine intervention, “A-Punk” by Vampire Weekend made its way into my library. It quickly carved out a space for itself as one of my favorite songs to listen to to drown out my parents fighting. When I listened to it, I felt like I was the titular “A-Punk”—a wild, crazy guy who was super cool and kissed a lot of girls, instead of the chubby, bowl-cut-having, non-ironic graphic-tee-enjoying, eight-year-old that I was.

You can imagine how excited I was when, twelve years later as a handsome and successful music journalist, I received the following note, tied to the foot of a raven that was trying to enter my home:

Good Evening Mr. Gladstone,

You have impressed me. Your journalistic skills paired with your succulent limbs, pulsing so deliciously with blood, will serve as the fuel and entertainment for my upcoming feast of dark delights. I demand your presence at my keep posthaste. There is a carriage en route to your hovel now. You cannot escape my will.

Kisses,

Count Ezra Von Koenig

Bloodskull Keep

1 Death Boulevard. Bran, Transylvania

I mean, holy shit... Ezra Koenig wants an interview with me! And did you see that part where he said that I have “journalistic skills?” I basically blacked out for the rest of it because I got so excited about that first bit, but before I could re-read it, there was a knock at my door.  Next thing I know I’m being hurried by a pale old man into a carriage pulled by six, black as night, stallions.

I won't go too far into the actual travel, but it was hellish and terrifying, and I was carriage-sick the entire time. My mood really lightened when we arrived at Ezra’s castle, though. I always expected him to live in a Los Angeles mansion or something, but his keep was even cooler. It sat, black and menacing, at the top of a hill overlooking a desolate gorge. We drove through a village to get there, and all the peasants averted their eyes as we passed, which made me feel like a celebrity!

The pale man—who I later learned was Count Koenig’s servant Gruulio—led me up to the great iron doors and rapped three times. A suspenseful moment passed until the doors swung open and we were greeted by the cold face of the Count. I had always expected Ezra Koenig to look younger, more full of life, but I figured it was nice that he felt casual enough to sit down with me without any makeup. To be honest, he didn’t look anything like the pictures I’d seen—like, completely different actually. However, I was only able to think about that for a second before he formally invited me in, and we began our interview. Enjoy!

Ezra Von Koenig: Ah Mr. Gladstone, I have been expecting you.

Me: And I you, I guess? To be honest I wasn’t exactly expecting…this.

Ezra Von Koenig: If there’s one thing you should know about me it’s that you should expect the unexpected.

As he said that, his eyes flashed red and he hissed towards me. It was delightful.

Me: Wow, Ezra, can I call you Ezra? That was really cool and, honestly, pretty unexpected.

Ezra Von Koenig: You will address me as “The Count” when inside my wicked palace. Follow me to the feeding room.

Me: Ha! Is that what rich folks call the kitchen?

The Count: SILENCE! Right this way.

I followed The Count through a series of winding corridors decorated with an inordinately high number of suits of armor. We entered the feeding room. It was covered in still-wet red paint—I guess he was doing a Pollock-inspo thing? Not really my style, but who am I to judge? We sat across from each other on royal satin couches. Mine noticeably squished as I sat.

Me: So Mr. Count, I see your home is clearly pre-war, but how long have you lived here?

The Count: My servants built this keep for me ages ago. Those accursed Cossacks invaded not long after, but with what I did to them, I would hardly call it a war.

Me: And have you always lived in Transylvania? I could’ve sworn you lived in Los Angeles.

The Count let out a pained shriek as I said the word “Angeles”

Me: Er, not a fan of the big city, I see. I stand corrected.

The Count poured himself a great goblet of thick, viscous, wine whilst staring harshly into my soul. It was tough to remember my notes. He had TOTAL star factor.

Me: So, uh, how did you get started with Vampire Weekend?

The Count: What do you mean?

Me: Your band? How did you start it?

The Count: There was only one weekend when I banded together with other vampires. We tried to infiltrate the Vatican with intent to turn the Pope into one of our own. As we set out, the others turned on me, sealing me within a great cave for one hundred years in an attempt to take my citadel. I escaped and returned to my keep, killing the interlopers, but not before a long and gruesome period of torture.

Me: Wow, that’s amazing. It’s like that classic garage band kind of story, you know?

The Count: Da.

Me: So what was your creative process for Father of the Bride?

The Count: In life I had a beautiful daughter, Esmerelda. She was a treasure until she married a pitiful sheep farmer, so I threw them both into a pit.

Me: And did they die?

The Count: Instantly.

Me: That’s a really beautiful story to go with a really beautiful album.

The Count: We vampires do not strive for beauty—we detest it.

Me: That’s such an “Artist” thing for you to say. I love it. And I guess that explains the elephant in the room.

The Count: Where is elephant?

Me: Well, I have this picture of you from Vanity Fair:

Me: You really look a lot different than that now. Are you on a new diet or something?

The Count: I do not know this man.

Here is a picture of The Count that I managed to grab for reference:

At this point I started to think that something fishy might be going on. Especially because six other dudes that looked like The Count walked into the feeding room. They all stared at me, wearing bibs that had pictures of little humans on them. Weird.

Me: You mean that was, like, the old you? Or something?

The Count put on his own bib.

Me: I, uh, didn’t know the rest of the band would be here…

The Count: You have entertained me with reminiscences of the past, but now it is time to begin the feast.

Me: Wait, wait! I still have some questions, come on!

All the guys were getting really close to me now. It felt like Thanksgiving with my uncles, and not in a good way.

Me: Hold on, are you the real Ezra Koenig? I’m worried there may have been some kind of miscommunication.

The Count: I am Count Ezra Von Koenig, Vampire Lord of Transylvania! And you, foolish mortal, have accepted an invitation to your doom. No one has ever left Vampire Weekend alive!

His story checked out. I really was with Vampire Weekend’s Ezra Koenig, and not some sort of ancient evil by the same name. Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to handle pranks following an incident at Dick’s Sporting Goods.

Me: Guys, this has been a lot of fun and I really appreciate the opportunity to interview you, Ezra, but I think I may have to cut it a little short. I’m actually feeling a tad uncomfortable.

Vampire Weekend kept advancing on me though. At this point the creature that I think was Chris Baio was quite literally breathing down my neck. I know I’m a little baby for this, but I actually got up and started running away. Ezra’s castle was labyrinthine, though, and it wasn’t long until the stress got to me, and I passed out. 

That concludes, what I think, was the best interview of my career. The Vampire Weekend guys were actually super sweet about the whole incident. I woke up from my fainting spell in my own bed. I don’t know how they got me home so fast—must’ve been a private jet or something.

I haven’t been feeling great the past few days. I’ve been light sensitive, moody, and have had a thirst that just cannot be quenched. I’ve found myself thinking back on that experience quite a lot to pass the time. It was surreal, odd, unexpected, and most importantly, indie. Huh. I guess I should’ve expected that from Vampire Weekend. 

I have an urge to go back to the dark and desolate land of Transylvania, back to that castle with all of those wonderful-looking villagers. I should probably get a COVID test first, though. I’ve been feeling symptomatic of something, at least. Maybe just allergies. Make sure you check out Vampire Weekend.