Ya Hey

Vampire Weekend titled “Ya Hey” as a play on the name of God and sang it at a chipmunk-pitched register that shouldn’t work and completely does. It’s the loveliest thing on their best record — a song about a deity who refuses to name himself to anyone anymore, delivered as a polite, mildly heartbroken inquiry.

The arrangement is full of precisely the kind of production flourishes that make a Tuesday feel like a film: handclaps, tinkling pianos, a chorus that rises like the sun coming up over an intersection you cross every day. Five minutes. The walk to the bus. The coffee at 9am. The feeling that someone is watching but isn’t going to answer.