Beirut

On Gulag Orkestar, Beirut mastermind Zach Condon's obsession with Eastern European folk -- as interpreted by a young New Mexican -- was a moan-filled pastiche of dreamy pop, mariachi and gypsy music, but the follow-up focuses more on Francophilism. Even down to the song titles ("Nantes," "La Banlieue," "Un Dernier Verre" and "Cherbourg"), his love affair with classic French pop and cabaret rings through. Gentle washes of strings and piano are led by an omnipresent accordion, while Condon's romantic croon acts as conductor. Best accompanied with a fine Bordeaux and box of tissues.

In retrospect, it’s obvious. Attracted though Santa Fe, New Mexico, prodigy Zach Condon
may have been to the hyper-emotional voices of the Balkan Roma, he’s not intense
enough to share a style with Macedonian diva Esma Redzepova or Serbian outlaw Saban
Bajramovic, whom he knows even if his alt-rock admirers don’t. So here he moves his
Beirut project west, to the tamer turf of Parisian chanson. The raucous Gypsy br... More >

In retrospect, it's obvious. Attracted though Santa Fe prodigy Zach Condon may have been to the hyper-emotional voices of the Balkan Roma, he's not intense enough to share a style with Macedonian diva Esma Redzepova or Serbian outlaw Saban Bajramovic, whom he knows even if his alt-rock admirers don't. So here he moves his Beirut project west, to the tamer turf of Parisian chanson. The brass is muted or gone, with accordion, strings, and various keyboards up front--only not as far front as Condon, who leaves little doubt that the singer he most admires in the world is fellow Europhile Rufus Wainwright. Committed to romantic lyricism above all, Condon isn't quite the tunesmith to fully justify this passion, compensating with melismatic slurs and a Gallic disdain for consonants. These tics don't do much for lyrics he's clearly been working on. "Nantes" is suffused with regret. "Forks and Knives" wanders hither and yon. "Cliquot" summons healing melody. Like that. (Grade - ** 1/2)