Completely toss away all that you know about Brooklyn group Vampire Weekend (and at this point, theres been a proliferation of all things VW in the last few months to make this group the most wanted and blissed about young band in the world) and let the mind wander back to the end of summer, when there was a following across the country of few. Vampire Weekend were out of Gotham for the first time, since forming at Columbia, a matter of fact that has been much-discussed and referenced in writings as theyve had their clothing the penny loafers and Dockers, etc. pegged as the sophisticated, polo-viewing rich boys, right or horribly wrong. They were supporting next to nothing, just kicking the tires on the live sound outside home. They had recorded a too short EP and a heavy stock 7-inch, but their following was relatively fictional and limited. The band of four came to Rock Island at the very end of that experience, playing one final show in Chicago and then backtracking to us for a session and a show in our small pizza parlour (Huckleberrys for those who are sticklers for all of the details) and then red-eyed it back to New York to catch flights two days later. The session was spectacular all of the evidence in that is following. The show, played before about 50 people whod never heard one word about the band prior to the night, was much more than that. It was full of so much intangible magic that it felt absolutely impossible. The guys were all smiles as they broke into it. They were all smiles during and huge, gaping smiles after an encore was demanded and they wound up bagging a second taco pizza from the management while they were signing the T-shirts of youngsters and the elderly. It was a dance party that they even recounted for NME a few weeks back. Something as truly memorable as this night doesnt come along very often. Thank heaven for blue moons. Sean Moeller