Is it possible for rebellious punk rock pixies and prized philosophers-in-training to dwell together in peace? If metal-clad Mohawk-donning deviants decided to crash an Ivy League dining club, you better hope they’re commiserating over the addicting and innovative new breed of organic pop-ska by New York’s Vampire Weekend.

The Columbia University-educated quartet defies convention on their impressive debut EP, showcasing range in everything from Afro-centric hand drums and tribal chorale (“Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa”), to vintage dance hall digs (“A-Punk”), to reggae “riddims” awash in hyperliterate lyrics all around. Skankers and scholars alike can happily relish in Vampire Weekend’s intriguing mix of collegiate candor and ska sensibility amidst rich and unexpected orchestral arrangements as songs peak out and rage on.

They shine on the outrageously delightful “Oxford Comma,” a subtle song that suggests forsaking the wisdom of “the highest Lama” and the prestige of “the United Nations” for none other than “Lil’ Jon” since “he always tells the truth.” An entire song questioning the importance of a piece of punctuation? Surely, you lie. I think the King of Crunk himself would even exclaim, “Huhhhhhwhat?!” at this ambitious prospect. And what anti-establishment anarchist would admit they enjoy a song as much as their English professor? So not punk rock.

Survey says: Vampire Weekend is a wistful and wild walking contradiction. You can’t help reveling in their brightness as they bridge musical gaps with grace and a grand attitude. So slam on, soldiers – smartly and gently for the sake of your up and coming bookworm brethren out there – and have a “bloody” good time.