[rating=8.00]
Beirut is one of those bands that have surpassed their genre and become a descriptor. Rather than relying on the basic knowledge of their particular brand of indie-world music, one can simply say, “It sounds like Beirut” and get the point across. That’s why when the first reaction to their latest genre defining album No No No was “sounds like Beirut” it didn’t come off as dismissive, or simple. Rather, it explains the caliber of the kind of music the band is making.
Sticking to not only their roots, but basic music roots in general, opening song ‘Gibralter’ called to mind the sound of native drumming. Perhaps a ceremony has begun, kicking off what would eventually become an indie dreamscape. One of the best things about Beirut is the simplicity in their sound. The drums began to layer, followed by brass, and various instruments that sound so incredible together, one doesn’t need to pick each one out for validation. A complex moment is built, without being too difficult. Many musicians lose their song to the layers, masking their original concept in a muck that’s almost pretty, yet falters. Fortunately, Beirut has never run into this problem.
Following ‘Gibralter’ is title track and first single, ‘No No No’ a song that defies genre to instead showcase the warbling tones and cadence of Zach Condon’s distinctive, and haunting voice. Haunting seems too simply to use in this case, but nothing else seems to fit. Comparison is hard to do with Beirut. ‘No No No’ is welcomingly repetitive, relying on a sense of wonder and acceptance from the listener. It’s almost the perfect song. Indicative of the style Beirut has settled on, the song sweeps through bridge after bridge with a beach-like vibe, mixing with a lounge style keyboard, and settling into an intimacy that’s normally reserved for singer-song writer type love songs.
‘At Once’ goes on to rely on Condon’s lyrical skill, pulling out the lite horns, slowed down percussion, and using a piano piece that’s almost hard to listen to due to its ability to unabashedly cut deep. ‘August Holland’ brings things back up, using a lighter beat to contrast against Condon’s melodic drone. The whole thing only comes in at a little under thirty minutes, so it’s no surprise that the rest of the album takes it’s time to be distinctive in instrument choice, melody, and overall feel. No No No could almost be separate little albums if the songs were allowed to carry on into the ether as many of them hint they could do. That said, it still somehow flows together, distinct yet part of a larger whole that cradles each note as if it could be gone tomorrow.
Some might complain at the level of Beirut’s “sameness” they tend to bring to the table, album after album. Others might call it reliable. Regardless of what camp you learn towards, it’s undeniable that no matter what, Beirut makes good music; consistent, gorgeous, intricate, melancholy, yet uplifting. No No No is an easy record to say yes to.
