Customer Reviews

The Flying Club Cup

5 star:		(20)
4 star:		(7)
3 star:		(1)
2 star:		(1)
1 star:		(2)

 

 

Beirut have always been all about Europe. Ever since Zach Condon started mingling electronica and indie-rock with traditional East-European music, his little band has been redolent of the old world.

And though "The Flying Club Cup" has a more modern flavour to some of its songs, the feeling of wistful, melancholy nostalgia still hangs heavily over these exquisitely orchestrated pop tunes. Think early twentieth-century France, as seen through sepia photographs and a band's sad tunes.

It opens with a haunting chorus of wailing horns, before switching to the smooth, swaying melody of "Nantes." Condon sings mournfully, "Well it's been a long time/long time now/since I've seen you smile/and I'll gamble away my fright... and in a year, a year or so/this will slip into the sea..."

It's much the same throughout the remaining songs, which tend to be bittersweet in tone, with a backdrop of horns and stately pop rhythms. Mellow dance tunes, Eastern European marches, mournful accordion-piano ballads, and pretty folky tunes. Not to mention, of course, combinations of all of the above.

In the second half, we're even graced with some upbeat songs -- the twittering violin and swirling melody of "In The Mausoleum." And the sprightliest music on the album is "Un Dernier Verre (Pour La Route)," a peppy pop tune that sounds like something Snoopy would dance to as the World War I flying ace.

If I were to compare Condon and Beirut to any other artist, it would probably be Sufjan Stevens -- polished, multilayered music with rich vocals. But the music of "The Flying Club Cup" is all nostalgia, bittersweet and weariness, mingled with a rich, over-the-top quality. It's so much BIGGER than Beirut's past work -- in sound, in scope, in feeling.

Not to mention that the sound here is a bit less Balkan -- think electro-indie mingled with vintage pop melodies, then filtered through an old French radio. Lots of mellow accordion, mingled brass, rattling drums and tambourine, an acoustic guitar, some twittery fiddle melodies and a nimble, energetic piano. Here are there, a gentle layer of keyboard is laid over it all.

Condon's voice is the clincher -- this guy is not only a great musician, but he has a smooth, rich voice that slides through the music like a satin ribbon. And his songs are evocative and stirring ("A plague on the workhouse!"), with plenty of feeling ("what melody will lead my lover from his bed?/What melody will see him in my arms again?").

Beirut's second album is a stunning artistic triumph, draped in classic melodies, exquisite songwriting and sweeping instrumentation. "The Flying Club Cup" flies on its own.

Beirut is Zach Condon, a 21-yearold prodigy from New Mexico who has never been to the Lebanese capital, nor even the Balkans, the region whose gipsy folk sound coloured his remarkable debut album, Gulag Orkestar.
On the latter Condon's whimsically named band worked up their rhythmic clangour with the help of borrowings from Balkan gipsy brass. I don't mean Slavic street theatre like Gogol Bordello, but the more subtle approach of bands such Kocani Orkestar, from Macedonia.
On the CD -- recorded at his parents' house in New Mexico -- Zach Condon sounded like a pretentious trust-fund boy gatecrashing an Emir Kusturica film set, but there was no doubting his talent. By the end of the year, Beirut had become one of the most compelling bands around.
Having rambled through lo-fi electronica, doo-wop and Balkan folk music, Zach now attempts to conjure a feel of France in an album inspired by an old photo of hot air balloonists setting off from the Eiffel Tower.
The horns and fiddles remain but now Beirut seem fuelled by vin rouge and absinthe as Condon's muse moves on to France.
The gusto with which he tackles his theme is infectious, and it is hard to be cynical when the clichés come packaged so elegantly.
Queasy accordions, fruity brass and rustic percussion do the job nicely, but this is an album of wispy moods and atmospheres rather than a collection of songs you could really take to your heart.
Wary of accusations of being a mere pastiche merchant, this time France being the theme -- at least he has lived in Paris -- this means waltzing accordions and horns, plucked strings and Condon's tremulous voice , a dramatic, stirring sound that is miles away from anything else coming out of the North American indie scene.
Because a piano accompanies the ballad "Un Dernier Verre" and because Condon has expressed admiration for Jacques Brel, some American fans think "The Flying Club Cup" a portrait of France or, more dimly, "Europe".
This is a misapprehension.
Condon picks up traditional elements and remakes them.
If you cram an accordion, guitar, violin, double bass, drums and three pieces of brass into a narrow stairwell, as Zach Condon does in the video for "Nantes", the term "layered" is inadequate to describe the consequent sound.
The tense piano loops of "In The Mausoleum" and fluttering flutes of the title track stand out on an album that entirely succeeds in its goal of whisking the listener to an enticing new places.
My highlights : "Nantes", "In The Mausoleum", "The Flying Club Cup" and "Le Banlieu".

L' Orient Est Rouge
Super Taranta
Release the Stars
Gulag Orkestar
Putumayo Presents: Paris
French Cafe
Disko Partizani
Putumayo Presents: Gypsy Groove

This is their second LP release, and by far their best release to date.

Critics are quick to say Beirut's sound is Euro-stylized by influences like Jacques Brel and François Hardy. They're eager to compare the band's frontman, Zach Condron, to Scott Walker. It won't be long before they liken Beirut to the Tindersticks had Stuart Staples turned queer.

But "The Flying Club Cup" proved Zach Condon has developed a musical style beyond compare.

Whereas "Gulag Orkestar" showed that the self-ordained small time American band could meld Macedonian folk sounds with romantic classical European music stylings and bourgeoise bohemian sophistication, "The Flying Club Cup" uses this melded sound as the departure point toward a far more striking occurrence: style defined without subculture.

Timeless, ageless, genderless, cultureless, songs like "Cliquot" and "The Penalty" make "The Flying Club Cup" an album that could have come out of almost any place in the world at any point in history.

But it's not just universal in those senses. Perhaps because of frontman Zach Condon's sophisticated, mature air and voice, it was refreshing and unexpected to hear him sing such honest lyrics about love. It was, well, sweet. Better yet, it is why I think "The Flying Club Cup" is nothing short of genius.

In sum, "The Flying Club Cup": Beirut's balkan-gypsy-folk-french-euro-pop music style renowned in their first LP release, made even better with more mature lyrics for the young at heart.

Listening to The Flying Cup Club crystallized an old memory from my undergraduate college days (long, long ago). I was taking a philosophy course on aesthetics. On the first day, the professor asked: "What separates animals from people?"

Some of the class resorted to an answer that relied on biology, which was the same thing as answering "nothing." Some said tool use was a distinctive trait of people. This was just plain wrong. They had forgotten watching chimps on nature documentaries use grass stalks to fish termites out of their mounds. I also didn't have a good answer. Class dismissed without a valid response. Only while walking away from class that afternoon did the answer occur to me: art. Art is the one activity that differentiates humans from the rest of the living world.

The work of Beirut is a monument to humanity's claim of singularity. It conveys a deep sense of longing that transmutes a morning commute in a used sedan into a beautiful event. It draws inspiration from a reality that claims civility as a virtue and talent as the key to success. It is a reality we need. Go buy it.

This album is just beautiful: tender, fresh, surprising, original, stirring. My wife saw them live last week and I only wish I could have gone, too! For a wonderful taste of the songs, visit the album website (http://flyingclubcup.com/spip.php?rubrique1), which has live videos crafted by La Blogotheque and featuring the band (principally 20 year old singer and songwriter Zach Condon) in incredibly simple yet mysteriously beautiful settings, most if not all in Brooklyn. The first track/video Nantes has the camera following him down the seemingly unending stairs of a fabulous semi-abandoned industrial building as his voice drifts in and out and various musicians appear at various points on the stairwell. Magical.

If you're first hearing about Beirut because of this album, please, do yourself a favor and buy the others. I hesitantly bought this album, worried that the brilliance of the first would not continue...you know, the whole second album slump thing. But when I heard Nantes (track two), I was pleasantly suprised. After listening to the album numerous times, purchasing it electronically, and then actually buying the physical album (Gasp!), all I can say is I can't wait for the next one to come out.

I absolutely fell in love with THE GULAG ORKESTAR when I was first introduced to it a little over a year ago. The beautiful Balkan melodies, the sad, nostalgic sense the songs gave you (especially the first half of the album).

When I listened to the LON GISLAND EP next, I was somewhat disappointed. It didn't have anywhere near the same power, the same emotional effect Condon's former album did. I fell out of touch. Finally, I was reintroduced a month or so ago by a friend, who gave me a copy of THE FLYING CLUB CUP. I'm hooked. This is one hell of an album. In many ways, it is even better than GULAG; it is sonorous and melodious and full of those same complex emotions that made the first album so enchanting.

Condon has really done something great here. This blend of European and American sounds is truly fresh and beautiful!

Since I discovered Beirut I immediately become a fan. The crooner voice of Zach Condon, the melodic lines of brass instruments, their trueness of sound made by acoustic instruments sets an entire different approach in a world dominated by electronic and post-production, auto-tuned songs.
The whole album is a kind of ear caress, which explores simple harmony and delicate lyrics with beautiful strings and brass arrangements making an old new sound. I call it an old new sound, because The Flying Club Cup sounds at the same time those old tunes our grandparents used to hear in a square or ballroom, but also sounds new as the strong vocals of Condon sets an alternative to the current mainstream music. With Beirut, we can say that melody is back to music, and is back to stay.
The album gathers influence from East European, French, Gipsy and Mexican songs, making an unique combination inspiring the listener to hear from beginning to end. Of course there are top songs, that may become one's favorite, but listening with attention, there is no bad songs at all.
People who likes Folk Music, Alternative Pop & Rock, or even Tradtional Music, should hear this album with attention and care, and I'm sure they will enjoy!

I picked this CD up randomly at a Cheapo store this summer and when I popped it into my CD player I didn't take it out for a month.

This is beautifully haunting music. The carnivale sound of it, just so vintage and beautiful!

If you are looking for a random music buy, I recommend getting this album.

There is something about this CD full of unique indie songs that sweetly tugs at the memory and spirit. The sound of the group Beirut is like what one might imagine if you crossed a crew of gypsies with French bistro troubadours. The result is unlike any thing I have ever heard before. Their music is marbled with swirls of strings, horns, accordion,percussion sounding like tub thumping, all while above it floats the lead ropey tenor of Zach Condon, founder of Beirut. The lyrics and instruments especially in "Nantes" and "Sunday Smile" will transport you to the streets and cabarets of Paris in a bygone era. There is not one song which does not work it's magic on the listener. One feels as if you have taken a tour somewhere back through the crooked gallic alleys of time and you do not want it to end. Anything that is able to do this is surely great art!