Future Islands became a meme. That's something that happened. Their ultimate reward for years of making eloquent and elegant synthpop head-ringers, of playing every hole-in-the-wall venue on the indie rock touring circuit, of sounding like no other band on the face of the Earth: They became the band who your cousin sends you a chuckly Facebook message about. It's a double-edged sword, memedom. On the one hand, Future Islands are now a bigger deal than they've ever been. They sell out clubs and place high on festival posters. On the other hand, there is a significant chunk of the world that thinks of them only as the band with the dancing man in it. And when your entire style and viewpoint are built around an almost painstaking sincerity, a radical vulnerability, that has to be, at the very least, weird.