The Rip Tide Analysis

Beirut are back with a new record, one that screams brevity - it’s less than half an hour long, and it’s lacking in many of the warm, zingara-inspired ornamentations that made The Rip Tide such a good record. However, No No No’s more spacious setup doesn’t fail - frontman Zach Condon’s songwriting is just as impressive without the extra instrumentation. Although some listeners may long for the cozier, older Beirut, No No No is just as good - a breezy, light indie pop record that exemplifies the term ‘palate cleanser’. Condon stands more alone than ever on this new record, and it seems his talent for songwriting only gets better.

There’s a big part of this record that is reminiscent of “The Rip Tide”, the somber centerpiece and title track of Beirut’s last album - those quiet keys dominate here, albeit in a brighter setting. Just listen to “At Once” - set around a four-note piano progression, Condon sings, “At once - at last - at all,” between triumphant flares of brass. However, the difference between the two songs has to do with space - while there’s still a pleasantly dusty feel to No No No as a whole, its production is much sprightlier.

This is evident in the singles for the record: while The Rip Tide had big old horn songs in “A Candle’s Fire” and “Santa Fe”, No No No relies on clean keyboards set at a quietly exuberant pace.

“Gibraltar” and “No No No”, both highlights of the album, are interestingly minimal in their approach: both really only have piano and percussion as a background for Condon’s voice. Both explore wonderfully exhilarating territory within a restrained palette, and both find a glorious balance in these seemingly contradictory characteristics. Kind of like a bright early spring

day.

When Condon decides to add orchestral bits to the mix, he chooses carefully and smartly - “As Needed”’s wintry piano and drums find a wonderful conduit for expression in those violins, while closer “So Allowed” builds to a vivid climax with its semitonal strings harmonies. Most of all, No No No’s strength as a record comes from Condon’s talent for putting together a song. This is not a new trait for Beirut to have; ever since the days of “Postcards From Italy” and Gulag Orkestar, Condon has approached indie pop with a folk-y philosophy, simply stacking melodies on top of melodies until you’re left with a very well-rounded song.

That’s not to say there aren’t some drawbacks to No No No; this is a very short record, and it falters at times (”Pacheco”, among others, is rather plain in its songwriting). For the most part, however, Condon has returned with another skillfully and thoughtfully made little album. Just like the tiny little portrait of cherry blossoms on its cover, No No No takes delight in the little pleasures. It’s wonderfully fleeting - a little glimpse at an already-short season, one that is bright and vibrant, but viewed from a distance.