Zach Condon and his band Beirut craft a unique sound

In the early 2000s, a young man named Zach Condon was living in New Mexico, where he was soaking in both the mariachi music of the people living around him and the exotic foreign music floating from the speakers of the international film theater where he worked.

By the time he was 19 years old, he had woven these influences into an album entitled Gulag Orkestar. He called himself and his motley crew of mandolin, guitar, trumpet, bass, flugelhorn, and trombone players Beirut, the capital of Lebanon, even though he had never visited the country.

Despite the fact that Condon recorded much of the music in his parents’ house in New Mexico, the songs on his 2006 album seem to have come from far away. Song titles like “Prenzlauerburg,” “Rhineland,” “Bratislava,” and “Postcards from Italy” do not overstate the respectively Balkan, German, or Romantic (in both the geographical and sentimental sense) air of the music.

Must-listens from this album? All of it. But to whet your musical appetite, try “Postcards from Italy,” followed by “Canals of Our City.” If you are brave and have a leaning toward things of a Balkan nature, then the song “Gulag Orkestar” might just give you shivers and send you on a journey across a steppe. Do not be frightened by the initial 30 seconds of the song, for it may seem a bit foreign to your ears, but after listening to the whole song, the appreciation of Condon’s seamless multiple instrumental melody accompanied by clever lyrics will become clear.

In 2007, Beirut released a second album that continued in the same vein as Gulag Orkestar, entitled The Flying Club Cup. The additional year of experience only improved the beauty and intricacy of Condon’s music. In this album, he emphasizes a lighter, almost French sound and names several songs after cities in France, but retains the old-fashioned, Eastern European feel. In one instance, he inserts a clip from a francophone film. This album is best experienced if one listens to “Nantes,” “Cherbourg,” and “A Sunday Smile” first.

Condon’s 2009 effort, Маrch of the Zapotec, is a little less listenable than his initial two records but is nonetheless very interesting, and for cultural reasons it is worth the half hour it takes to absorb the extensive brass section and somewhat cryptic lyrics.

Of his singles, “Elephant Gun” is beautiful, as is “Scenic World,” particularly the version that is on the Lon Gisland album. Perhaps the beauty of Condon’s lyrics is that they are more suggestive rather than directly metaphorical or historical. They give the listener something to think about but allow the imagination to fill in the gaps with his or her own meaning.

In 2011, Condon released an album strikingly different in atmosphere from his first few albums; accordion features prominently while a much stronger drum section dominates the rhythms. He sings intelligibly far more often, whereas before his tendency was to hum or sing wordlessly in the background. Most notably, guitar is featured prominently, which testifies to the collaborative nature of this album. Condon cannot actually play guitar himself due to an old wrist injury, so the guitar’s prominence shows how his band members helped with song writing. On the other hand, the characteristic brass section continues to set his music apart and give it the Eastern European air of previous records. The whole album is eminently enjoyable, but “Vagabond” stands out above the rest.

After a four-year break due to a hospitalization in Australia and other discomfiting events, Condon and Beirut released No No No in September 2015 and finally went on tour again. This album is shorter, and one might say sweeter, than the rest. This is most likely due to Condon’s decision to scrap the brass section and instead play with a piano, a bass, and vocals. In place of the Balkan vibe is a feeling of otherworldliness that is charming and almost lulling in songs like “No, No, No” and “At Once.” On the other hand, “Perth” is remarkable for its cheeriness. Giving the whole album a listen, in order, helps to produce better a beautiful picture and a rather calm and inspiring mood.

Although many of Condon’s songs seem to lack strong and remarkable lyrics upfront, his creation of sweeping, floating tunes alternately led by guitar and trumpet backed up by tasteful violins, drums, and even cymbals, gives great depth to the music. Condon’s vocals function as another instrument seamlessly mixed with the others in order to produce unique sounds that join together and produce timeless music made for all people.

Margaret Cross is a junior studying Russian and economics. She co-hosts a Sunday evening radio show with C&T editor Crystal Avila. Contact her at mcross2@nd.edu.