A Vampire Walks Into A Chic LA Dinner Party

For when the vibe is muted, sultry, and rangy.

A Vampire Walks Into A Chic LA Dinner Party -- The Vibe Triangulation

Finish the sentence: Vampires are…

Chiseled? Blood-thirsty? Unholy? Resplendent in the Sun, like diamonds?

Depending on which century you belong to, any of these answers would be correct. Media markets old and new have long been flooded with these perma-youthful, blood thirsty creatures of the night. Most of the vampire stories we recognize emerged at an interesting historical crossroad: after the growth of civilization and walled settlements pushed our competitors for apex predator (bears and wolves) into the dark parts of the world, but before major advancements in modern medicine and public health made civilization safe from filth and disease. Collectively we could remember the dangers that lurked in the night without direct exposure to them, but we were plagued by new and mysterious dangers from within (like tuberculosis, a wasting disease whose victims cough up blood, which obviously shaped vampire iconography). This era birthed the gothic classic Carmilla (1872), which featured the first known female vampire, and Bram Stoker’s Dracula (1897), from which all modern representations of vampires stem. Culturally, we also had stronger ties to Christianity, so core themes of early vampire mythology were sin, separation from God, and moral redemption.

During the 80s and 90s, the phenomenon known as “Satanic Panic” was reflected in darker representations of the vampire, like Fright Night (1985), The Lost Boys (1987), and Interview with the Vampire (1994, based on the Anne Rice novel published in 1976). Thematically, these retellings were closely related to the origin stories of the 1800s. Vampires were leather-clad and truly predatory, representing a threat that young, handsome heroes had to face in order to rescue a damsel. However, God and Christian symbolism, while featured, was not central to the narratives as it once was.

By the aughts, sexier, moodier interpretations of the myth emerged in the form of The Vampire Diaries (2009-2017), True Blood (2008-2014) and, of course, Twilight (2008). Nestled between third and fourth wave feminism, these iterations of the vampire are caught up in the emotional nuance perceptible in the myth and the female experience of desire. These versions use danger and immortality to expose these themes rather than focusing on death and fear as themes in-and-of themselves. It’s worth noting that vampires have always been kind of sexy, but back when the myth took root sexiness itself was not a virtue. These modern interpretations, however, are dominated by questions like: what does it mean to be someone’s craving? And: how stimulating is it to stand on the knife’s edge where one move means lurid wish-fulfillment, and another means certain death? Even so, this cadre of vampires were largely neutered, often drinking from blood bags, or even hunting animals instead of people. Steeped in moral relativism and atheist sensibilities, much of the religious connections to the myth were mocked or abandoned outright.

Clearly, this subject matter is a deep well, iterating and reiterating again and again, making vampires a unique cultural touchstone for exploring our changing and devolving regard for death, lust, fear, passion, the forbidden, loneliness, order and disorder, desire, control, and abandon.

Today, we are experiencing cultural output that functions vampirically – it prays on the life force of greater works and produces unremarkable remakes, unnecessary sequels, and regurgitations devoid of any new or meaningful truths. Happening in parallel is a phenomenon of widespread, shameless use of plastic surgery and weight loss drugs which create a kind of medically simulated eternal youth, aesthetic homogeneity and a population who probably would drink human blood if they thought it would make them younger and prettier for longer. People are fearing death and decay instead of facing them, all the while having largely abandoned the fear of God. Vampires no longer represent disordered desire, unholy death and predation, and instead represent righteous self-worship at any cost. And the cost is precisely what we should consider. What is a perverse approximation of eternal youth worth to us? If we are constantly looking backwards, will we ever be able to achieve anything great or meaningful again?

All of that said, the most recent interpretations of the myth give me something like hope for a new cultural shift. Vampires have been the subject of parody; What We Do in the Shadows (2019-2024), Renfield (2023), and re-creepification; Penny Dreadful (2014-2016), Dracula (2020). A French interpretation, Dracula: A Love Tale (2025), even imagines Dracula’s decent into vampirism as a rejection of God.

This playlist imagines all of that ancient sin and sensual brooding at a dinner party happening in a little town near the ocean tomorrow night or whatever. It’s moody yet groovy with plenty of synthesizers and lilting vocals, and vacillates in vibe between abandon and tightly controlled desire. There’s also a clear temporal component: bury a friend (2019) is the spiritual successor to Dance Little Liar (2009), which in turn is the spiritual successor to Lullaby (1989). In Cold Blood (2017) is the spiritual successor to Shout (1984). Reflections of Kate Bush can be found in the vocals of London Grammar’s Hannah Reid, Billie Eilish and Jessie Ware. Lyrical genius includes the opening line of The Smiths’ How Soon Is Now. Upon first listen the line could read as the boastful declaration, “I am the Sun and the Air,” or the more deferential, “I am the son and the heir.” For the record, it is the latter. Morrissey follows with, “of a shyness that is criminally vulgar,” after a very pregnant pause. The duality of this lyric defines the song. The ripeness for interpretation is very vampiric, no? Elsewhere, Dance Little Liar is a masterful exploration of deception as a practice. Sonically, the song is creeping and dirty, and shameless while tacitly acknowledging that shame is probably appropriate. Non Believer, the anchor track, is dominated by the refrain, “All that we are and what we need, they’re different things,” which is probably the theme at the core of all vampire stories. Paradise Circus, bury a friend, and Sleep Alone are the shadowy heart of the playlist, foreshadowing Lullaby, the ending. In between, you get to enjoy a little rock-and-roll party. The bonus track, Running Up That Hill, needs no explanation.

All in all, has a more perfect background for a sexy Halloween dinner party ever been conceived? Doubtful.

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