"CASPIAN TIGER" BEIRUT (2025)

Zach Condon once explained that his band name Beirut is a reference to a place of conflict where different cultures clash. This may be the very reason why I periodically go back to Beirut’s catalog. Rather than being in the mood for a particular music genre, it could be the clash of indie pop moments and various world music influences has its momentary appeal and is just the thing I need.

In anticipation of Beirut’s next album release, Condon released two singles: “Guericke’s Unicorn” and “Caspian Tiger”. The former unabashedly leans into the pop sensibilities of the band with its trance-like synth bed. But “Caspian Tiger” takes a divergent path down a stripped down exploration of classical elements.

The lone piano notes create a sense of loneliness and despair. It seems doomed from the start. But the piano isn’t alone. It’s quietly surrounded by vocal harmonies and instrumentation that, to my untrained ear, sound like a melodica, accordion and an acoustic guitar or mandolin. These elements create a sense of buoyancy, creating a surprising glimmer of hope. There are themes here that are unmistakably Beirut. But the one aspect that really shines on “Caspian Tiger” is Condon’s delicate lead vocals where he achieves a delicate balance of quiet and powerful, floating effortlessly into falsetto. Absolutely stunning.

“YOU’RE ALSO DYING. YOU’RE ALSO SAFE.”

"NANTES" BEIRUT (2007)

I generally gravitate to the music first before the lyrics. But as a writer, I still marvel at well-spun verses and choruses. This month, I’m joining the music Twitter community in #SeptSongLyricChallenge

Day 28

Few artists take me away like Beirut. I put on a Beirut album and immediately I’m swept away into another land and another time. Listening to a series of Beirut songs back to back is like flipping through a dusty pile of old postcards from distant places. Each track on The Flying Club Cup album evokes a different city or region in France. Nantes is a small port city off the Atlantic coast. When I listen to this track, I feel like I’m there. I’m transported to an outdoor cafe at night by the sea listening to a man drowning in his sorrows over a lost love.

“Well it's been a long time, long time now since I've seen you smile. And I'll gamble away my fright. And I'll gamble away my time. And in a year, a year or so this will slip into the sea.”

"NANTES" BEIRUT (2007)

Each day in December, I’ll be reflecting back on a song from the 2000’s. The decade saw the return of post-punk and the popularization of folk music, all while some of music’s biggest acts gained their indie footing. Thankfully, it’s a period that I can look back at fondly without cringing. #31DaysOf2000sSongs

One of my deep regrets as a music fan is not having discovered the unique world of Beirut sooner. Many artists have made a name for themselves crossing genres, but Beirut has surpassed that claim by crossing generations. The music of Zach Condon seems to live in two different worlds: old world influences with new world interpretations. The Flying Club Cup album is said to have been inspired by a photograph of a hot air balloon festival in Paris during the early 1900’s. It’s these types of references that make each Beirut song feel like a postcard from an earlier era — a greeting from another time and place. Each song on the album represents a different French city, and “Nantes” is one of my favorites.

An accordion. French horns. Euphoniums. And a string arrangement by Arcade Fire’s Owen Pallett. These are the instruments that paint the picture of the coastal city of Nantes. It’s Beirut’s magnum opus from The Flying Club Cup album. The song brings us back more than a century. The accordion lures me through the streets of Nantes, while the horns beckon me to the port. “Nantes” is a reminder that music can transport us to another era. It can introduce us to new places. And, on occasion, it can be unexpectedly romantic.

“I'll gamble away my fright. And I'll gamble away my time.”

"POSTCARDS FROM ITALY" BEIRUT (2006)

This song has always made me envious over the place, the moment and the experience that Zach Condon recounted for us. Every Beirut song is like an entry inside a travel journal. The kind that pulls you right back in the moment. “Postcards from Italy” did it by way of trumpet, ukulele and Zach Condon’s vagabond vocal delivery. It went somewhere far beyond the tourist traps and allowed our imaginations to discover places we never knew existed.

“The times we had, oh, when the wind would blow with rain and snow were not all bad. We put our feet just where they had, had to go, never to go.”