Beirut The Flying Club Cup (4AD)

Beirut is Zach Condon, and Zach Condon is right on time. His international folk through every instrument imaginable (except guitar) is rich with cultural consciousness and adventure and is just the reinvigoration the folk, indie, rock and whatever-music scenes need to get over their musical malaise.

The resplendent and occasionally haunting sounds of the cello, accordion, violin, mandolin, piano, sax, clarinet, glockenspiel, flugelhorn, trumpet and more ukelele than you ever thought you would crave but do dance around Condon’s Stephin Merritt-meets-Rufus Wainwright croon to create images of landscapes you just have to see before you die. The Flying Club Cup was inspired by a trip Condon made to France much the way he discovered the Balkans sound of his previous, Gulag Orkestar, after escaping New Mexico briefly for Eastern Europe at about 18. Be soothed, fans of Gulag, Cup isn’t that far off the mark from the previous. Actually, it’s right there. However, there is a hint of influence from French vocalists like Jacques Brel, and French dialog is present in several intros. Also, the title of the disc came from an early 1900s hot air balloon race in Paris. But, if you’re looking for the feeling of eating baguettes on the Champs-Élysées in mid autumn, Cup might not be the best fit. But, why change an equation that works so well. Condon does, however, beef up his sound on this one considerably.

In one of the smartest moves in music ever, Condon enlisted friend and Final Fantasy music man Owen Pallett to create string arrangements that not only enhance the catchy, well-traveled vibe of the tunes, but also create their own significant presence alone. The overwhelming beauty of the strings in “Guyamas Sonora” teeters between supporting role to Condon’s voice and uke and making their presence known by sweetly surging. Then, on “In the Mausoleum” Beirut shows restrained elegance and musical refinement in the to-and-fro dance between the cello and violin.

But don’t for a minute think the album is pompous or strictly for an opera crowd. Condon and company (9 others who play regularly with him) have a knack for incorporating grandiose instrumental designs while still keeping the feel of being at a bonfire of troubadours along the railroad in anywhere, Europe with a road-weary, motley crowd of tramps and village outcasts lamenting for the lives they left behind. We also see on Cup the development of stronger lyrics. Previously, Condon had dwelled a little too much on the process of turning his voice into another instrument, sometimes forsaking content for mood. Also, Bringing Pallett to sing lead with lyrics like, “Yesterday a fever/ tomorrow St. Peter/ I’ll beat on my drum until then,” on “Cliquot” helped alleviate a possible overdose of Condon’s potent voice. You don’t want to be burnt out by the time “St. Apollonia” rolls around with its moving vocals, dependable horns and gallant mandolin.

An enormous part of the allure of Beirut is how the songs maintain an American folk feel while whetting the appetites of listeners for a foreign sound that doesn’t borrow anything from American rock and roll. He just might be a genius. Not only for introducing a new generation to world music that doesn’t belong in the new age section thumbed through by middle-aged, yoga-on-the-weekends, too-many-rings-wearing dudes, but also for helping hipsters get over themselves and go out into the world to embark on an adventure.

Beirut Official
Beirut MySpace