Pitchfork

After the wild success of Gulag Orkestar, an album described (and derided) time and again as indie rock meets Balkan brass, authenticity becomes an issue in just about every Beirut review. Whether labeled "Gypsy Rock," Neutral Milk Hotel Jr., or flat-out village pillaging, Zach Condon's approach to songwriting's been questioned: Yup, the 20-year-old is from New Mexico and currently lives in New York. Yeah, he's a kid. So, based on that information, just what should his band sound like? In recent interviews Condon's discussed his interest in French pop and chanson. While that sound's yet to work its way into Beirut, this new EP includes some important upgrades.

Moving from his solo, Jeremy Barnes-accented bedroom recordings, Condon's now part of an eight-piece band. Smart move. Gulag showed promise and also limitations: In retrospect, the most intriguing sounds often amounted to ambient pastiche. Pretty but vacant. Now, a solid, pulsing group of players fleshing-out his songs, Condon opens to something less paint-by-numbers static-- it's more alive.

He shows, albeit briefly, that he can write songs without, as a friend called it, "that Beirut thing"-- i.e., not everything needs a quasi-Neutral Milk Hotel horn swell. But, note the subtle echo of On Avery Island in Lon Gisland, on which he even pokes fun at charges of cultural appropriation, transforming hairspray and pizza joints into foreign territory. Touché! Tellingly, the cover painting uses a collage technique to transport the band to a scene of black-and-white historical figures afloat in a green, green river.

It's a tiny offering, a 16-minute stopgap before the sophomore full-length scheduled for this fall. (The EP's been released in Europe as a part of Gulag Orkestar and as a one-side 12" by Chouette.) There are three new songs, a new incidental instrumental that echoes its neighbors, and a full-band remake of "Scenic World".

Opener "Elephant Gun" begins with that familiar ukulele sound and Condon giving his critics enough rope to hang themselves: "If I was young, I'd flee this town/ I'd bury my dreams underground." He's young... get over it. The song has joyousness to it-- it feels less downcast, nostalgic or mournful than the previous material; it's somehow more authentic for that. It's stately and deep, bottomed out with marching band drums, Condon's soaring vocals quaver. At the end, the track shifts gears, drifting into another flavor of accordion and horn.

A waltzing "Carousels" takes the listener to Coney Island with Morrissey to "watch the faces go 'round." Here, there's a whole lot of group singing. Musically, the repeated motifs are nice, showing Condon unafraid to really open up and play. A sound of water floats in the background-- but when you listen closer, it could also be the distant bustle of the city. It's hard to tell. Here, sounds are never clear-cut.

The incidental pieces are small but effective. "My Family's Role in the World Revolution", a polka piano rave-up, is an instrumental given signs of life with laughs and a sighing producer. Again, it's upbeat, opening up a riotous saw duster with Charlie Brown piano, glockenspiel, and martial beats. Tossed off, sure, but fun.

The other instrumental, "The Long Island Sound" plays on sound (something you hear, the physical space where you get wet, salt and fresh water mixing it up). You can make out water, or whatever, in the background as well as an echo of "Elephant Gun", an accordion and bass-trumpet reprise. It very much feels like it's coming over a wire recorder á la the Microphones. Like the other piece, it's a swatch of sound, another bit in the collage.

Most interesting is the band's new take on "Scenic World". For Gulag, it was the song that justifiably snagged Magnetic Fields comparisons. That cute lilt's been replaced with a slower, statelier unfurl: Condon comports himself in less bubbly way and any cartoonish residuals disappear in the slower pace. Also, tapping drum sticks are placed upfront and become a sort of undulating Indian percussion background; the original's horn parts are doubled on violin and accordion. Basically, you're hearing an older Beirut tuned played by a group, offering the listener a sense of community, rather than some kid alone in his room cuddling his 4-track. It's how this music should be experienced.

Lon Gisland marks a positive progression-- in these 16 minutes Condon has shown that, yes, there are songs behind the international flavors, that his work would be interesting even if kept the trumpet at home. It's clear, too, just how much age and gravity he holds in his voice and not just the sound around him. Most important of all? It seems Condon's getting all this-- by embracing the developments, he's started to go beyond chewing the scenery to, well, actually living in it.