Beirut Rip It Up

Four tenderhooked years after Francis Condan's cosmopolitan rat pack graced us with the French-flavoured gallantry of 'The Flying Club Cup', part three of Beirut's story has finally been unveiled. 

'The Rip Tide', which was released a few days ago, shows Condan at his poppiest yet, with subtler world influences than in his earlier sounds. Shimmering with charm, the elegance and sophistication of this record is a world away from the raggedy balkan novelty of 'Gulag Orkestar'. Still present, however, are the signature Beirut quirks and idiosyncrasies that warm their spot in the American folk/pop patch. Also intact is their underlying character, one of the sweetest sadness, although the vehicle it's delivered in has ripened and is in full bloom. 

Listening carefully to 'The Rip Tide', you can hear the ethereal shadows of a Beach Boys ghost, and on 'Gushen' there is definitely a hint of McCartney in Conan's voice. There is a 90's dance feel to 'Santa Fe', which is sugary pop brilliance, and European baroque music plays a big part in 'Payne's Bay', among others.

'The Rip Tide' gets me all hot and bothered, it must be said. More like this, please.