Beirut loses the brass but still kicks ass

Zach Condon pays homage to the sounds of Eastern Europe.

By Joey Vergara

Published Oct. 16, 2007

Like a lot of teenagers, Zach Condon grew disenchanted with school. Unlike most, though, he did something about it.

Dropping out of school at 16, he traveled around Europe with his brother. That was where he fell in love with Balkan and folk music.

At only 21, Condon has released some of the best music of the past year under the name Beirut.

His newest album, The Flying Club Cup, which is the first with a finalized band lineup, is a dense behemoth of a record, romantic and tragic with its heavy European influences.

The Flying Club Cup finds Condon laying down the big brass sound in favor of other instruments like accordion and violin.

That is not to say it has been abandoned completely, but it plays a much tamer role than on last year's Lon Gisland EP.

Condon's trumpet and the other horns take a less bright tone, and the album in general seems gloomier and less optimistic than previous Beirut releases.

The record opens with the horn peals of "A Call to Arms." The subsequent track, "Nantes," takes its time building up, as if Condon's "call to arms" is bringing each musician into the fold. Condon's sleepy croon leads the charge, stopping every now and again to pick up different instruments: ukulele, piano, accordion, drums and guitar. At one point, the sound of glass breaking stops the music, and the bass and a sample of a French couple arguing is the only thing heard.

With the sort of company Condon is keeping these days, it would seem his talents have made quite the impression on the indie music scene. Owen Pallett (aka Final Fantasy) contributed vocals to "Cliquot" and scored all the string arrangements.

The combination of the two's voices makes for one of the best moments on the album.

You can look at The Flying Club Cup in two ways. The positive point of view involves listening to the songs as one big movement in European tradition.

Tracks like "Forks and Knives (La Fête)" and "In the Mausoleum" make up the meaty, challenging points of the album, while more minimalist songs like "Un Dernier Verre (Pour La Route)" and "The Penalty" strike at gentler emotions and relax the mood.

On the other hand, you can hear too many of the songs blending together because Condon has taken a break from then cheeriness of songs like Lon Gisland's "Scenic World" and "Elephant Gun." This has really always been the lurking danger in Beirut's music.

If it were not for the music's enchanting appeal, Condon's taut delivery could make his songs almost unbearable.

Even so, it really is more enjoyable to take the more optimistic approach and hear The Flying Club Cup for what it is: a tribute to the sights and sounds Condon has adopted as his own throughout his world travels.

The titular and final track of The Flying Club Cup has the triumphant tone of a long battle won.

It is a heavy waltz accompanied by choral vocals that eventually close out the record. By the end of the record you might find yourself familiarized with France's tangible romance or the mysteriousness of Eastern Europe.

A prodigy in his own right, Condon has immersed himself completely in different European nations' musical heritage, making for some brilliantly composed records that take you to a forgotten world.