SAN FRANCISCO--The Independent was filled to the brim with indie rock scenesters. Black hooded sweatshirts, three-day stubble, and lanky, bed-headed guys were packed in like uber-cool sardines, the hipness almost sickening even for a city as cutting-edge as San Francisco.

So it was almost a breath of fresh air to see four guys in the joint wearing collared button-down shirts, looking like they just got out of a debate club meeting or another hard day swapping stocks in the city's financial district.

These chums were the antithesis of the crowd and its natural archenemy--preppy private-college boys.

In the ultimate bit of irony (far more ironic than any of the T-shirts worn by the crowd), it was these four guys that were the attraction everyone hipper-than-thou came to see that night.

Vampire Weekend, a four-piece band from New York and the current indie act du jour, did not disappoint.

Though the band has attracted a lot of attention from radio stations, magazines, and the Internet, they're a bit green when it comes to performing, and it was evident. This current tour, their second jaunt out West in a matter of months, seemed like practice for impending stardom rather than refinement of their sound for the live stage.

But, oh, can these white boys play some funky pop. For those without a prior listen, their frequent comparisons to a Graceland-era Paul Simon may seem a bit forced or inconceivable. But from the first notes of their first single, "Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa," it's almost impossible to distinguish from where and when this new take on pop music came.

The short set to promote their debut album that hits stores January 29 lived up the hype. The quartet's sound is bound for car commercials or in Josh Schwartz-produced television programs; it's the kind of music that your parents could listen to, the happy-go-lucky and irresistibly attractive tunes that will be playing while getting an early morning latte.

The African influences really jut out with frontman and lead singer Ezra Koenig's (they even have preppy names) jangly guitars; it sounds more like King Sunny Ade than other kings of modern-rock guitar. However, even more influences abound upon further listening, particularly in the tracks played that aren't on the band's lone EP.

There's enough bouncy ska influence in some songs to thank The Clash, plenty of catchy melodies and sincere crooning to evoke 1950s doo-wop, and just enough of that certain something that The Talking Heads had. People may argue on a perfect label for Vampire Weekend, but no one can deny that their product is neatly packaged, sugary, pop goodness.

As far as the band's on-stage demeanor, though, they are all very proficient with their instruments, and they seem more interested in playing flawlessly than having fun. I'm sure it's only a matter of time before they loosen up a little, but Koenig's in-between song banter with the audience was a bit...awkward. Between his shy "aww shucks" request for the audience to dance (so that's what it feels like to be a teenage girl at a homecoming dance) and his incomplete story about the origin his sweater, Koenig doesn't give off the atmosphere of a rock star but rather Wally Cleaver. But perhaps that's part of the charm.

One band member who wasn't afraid to cut loose was drummer Chris Tomson, who led that charge all night by banging out polyrhythmic beats. One clue as to why he may have been a little more at ease? Halfway through the set, he stripped down to a Phish T-shirt.

The door to success is wide open for Vampire Weekend, and they're perfectly poised to jump on through. Hell, with a sound like that, they may just go the route of the Kool-Aid Man and break through the wall. Ohhhhh yeah!