Plugging the Leak

The Rip Tide has sprung a leak.

I'm talking, of course, about the latest LP from Beirut. The album was originally scheduled for release on Aug. 30 via Pompeii Records, but the digital release date has since been fast-tracked to Aug. 2 -- a sure sign that the label is attempting to undercut illegal downloads by offering it early through legitimate online retailers.

This works out well for Vancouverites: Beirut songwriter Zach Condon and his collaborators are coming to our city for back-to-back shows at the Commodore Ballroom on Aug. 9 and 10, which gives concert-goers about a week to digest the new tunes before hearing them in live form.

It's no surprise that Beirut fans have been unable to stop themselves from downloading the new disc early. After all, it's been four years since Condon and co. dropped their last official full-length, 2007's The Flying Club Cup. That LP -- along with its predecessor, 2006's Gulag Orkestar -- helped to popularize Beirut's uniquely multicultural sound, which blends Condon's tremulous croon with ukulele, surging horns, and tinges of Balkan folk.

The Rip Tide is similarly one-of-a-kind, and while it doesn't reinvent Beirut's sound, it is an uncharacteristically sunny, pop-friendly collection. Lead single "East Harlem" is based around bubbly piano, which provides a cheerful backdrop for its fluttering melody. "Sante Fe," which takes its name from Condon's hometown in New Mexico, starts with a quaintly retro electronic groove before being enveloped in warm, thickly layered horns.

Perhaps for the first time, The Rip Tide finds Condon beginning to sound like his indie folk peers. While his penchant for wailing horns and dramatic vocals has frequently been compared to the legendary Neutral Milk Hotel, these nine songs contain more contemporary touchstones. Opener "A Candle's Fire" features a twisting, drawn-out melody that evokes the Dodos (who opened for Beirut in 2009). This song, as well as others, is laden with triumphant horn parts that resemble Sufjan Stevens' marching band-style arrangements. Such moments are a far cry from the fragile, Eastern-tinged brass that opened Gulag Orkestar five years ago.

With a runtime that's only barely longer than 30 minutes, The Rip Tide goes down easy. Condon is already one of the most beloved songwriters in indiedom -- the two-night stand at the Commodore is proof of that -- and with these new, instantly-accessible tunes under his belt, his popularity is likely to keep on growing.

If you happen to be one of the many who downloaded the new disc illegally, maybe give the guy his due and at least have the decency to fork out for a concert ticket.