ARTiST: Beirut
ALBUM: The Flying Club Cup
BiTRATE: 181kbps avg
QUALiTY: EAC Secure Mode / LAME 3.97 Final / -V2 --vbr-new / 44.100Khz
LABEL: 4AD
GENRE: Indie
SiZE: 53.22 megs
PLAYTiME: 0h 38min 34sec total
RiP DATE: 2007-10-01
STORE DATE: 2007-10-08
Track List:
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01. Call To Arms 0:18
02. Nantes 3:50
03. Sunday Smile 3:35
04. Guyamas Sonora 3:31
05. La Banlieu 1:57
06. Cliquot 3:51
07. Penalty 2:22
08. Forks And Knives (La Fete) 3:33
09. In The Mausoleum 3:10
10. Un Dernier Verre (Pour La 2:51
Route)
11. Cherbourg 3:33
12. St. Apollonia 2:58
13. Flying Club Cup 3:05
Release Notes:
--------
Some people may mourn the passing of Zach CondonÆs cottage-industry approach and
makeshift binary orkestra, the occasionally cacophonous delivery, and earnestly
clamoring and lo-fi arrangements that typified Gulag Orkestraùa result of the
young musicianÆs inventiveness in the face of necessity. They added up to at
least half the charm of BeirutÆs terrific and much-acclaimed debut album from
last year.
Of course those people are also missing something if they think that CondonÆs
second album, or, more appositely, BeirutÆs first as a fully-fledged band, is
somehow less charming, less idiosyncratic, less unique, and less wonderful
simply because our magical conductor now has a full and very real band at his
disposal rather than a cast of imagined musicians in his head.
Following on the heels of the Lon Gisland EP and the extensive,
worldwide-touring that followed Gulag, The Flying Club Cup makes use of the
friends, networks, and synergies put together to make his previously isolated
adventures tangible, and in doing so improves it. ItÆs a simple formulaùthe
songs are better, the melodies more memorable, the vocals stronger, the sound
richer, the arrangements more rewarding.
To give some context, which I view pretty important to this whole ôreviewing
recordsö thing, I reviewed this album in the midst of a house-move, my music
collection packed all away bar a handful of Beta Band, King Biscuit and Beirut
CDs, my desktop computer boxed and debunked, myself perched on a beanbag with a
laptop and a glass or eight of red wine. Listening to and writing about The
Flying Club Cup in this context made an awful lot of sense; the waiting, the
tidied disarray, the low light, the frantic sense that something, somewhere,
must have been forgotten, the empty shelves, the rioja that slips across oneÆs
tongue and down oneÆs throat just slightly too easily. The Flying Club Cup is a
luxuriant, beautiful album, but also slightly distracted, otherwise occupied,
busy.
Something else that makes a lot of sense is hearing Owen PalletÆs high,
tremulous voice ring out with a sense of frosted drama above the accordions and
beyond-the-Iron-Curtain martial drums of ôCliquotö; doubly so when you realise
that itÆs his wonderful, swirling and emotive string arrangements that run
through half the record, helping to take the virtual kingdom of Gulag and turn
it into a real place populated by accordions horns, pianos and voicesùmany, many
voices.
The foremost of those voices being Zach CondonÆs own, finally revealed in its
full splendor as both delicate and powerful, capable of traversing melodic lines
and riding tides of instruments and musical traditions that should be well
beyond the common or garden college dropout from Albuquerque.
Inspired by a picture of hot air balloons by the Eiffel Tower that Condon kept
pinned up in the studio (and everywhere else he recorded), The Flying Club Cup
sees CondonÆs picaresque folk wandering westwards from the Balkan sources of his
debut album to take in sights, sounds, and scents more Gallic; Jacques Brel,
conversational French, deep, taciturn burgundy clarets and light, dancing
Beaujolais. The briefly ringing ukulele (or is it a mandolin?) charms and chides
of ôThe Penalty,ö the camp and elegiac drama of ôForks & Knives (La FΩte),ö the
gently-breaking percussive waves and weirs of ôNantes,ö the jazzy piano fills
and audacious strings of ôThe Mausoleum,ö the rolling farewells of ôSt.
Apolloniaö; Beirut here is taken of too much wine, swoonsome, romantic,
decadent, observed, and wonderfuly so. The debut album was good, but this is
better. Much, much better; the kind of record I will happily and willingly
return to long after this review is dead and buried. Please, investigate, sup
deeply, imbibe. The Flying Club Cup is a marvel.