Beirut - baion, 2023

"His sixth album as Beirut was conceived while he was living in an old wooden church on the Norwegian island of Hadseløya, seeking refuge from self-doubt, mental collapse, a cancelled tour and briefly career-threatening throat problems."

Beirut - landslide, 2019

“Landslide” is the third single off of Beirut’s upcoming 5th album, Gallipoli, and with each new track they release, the more evident their musical evolution becomes. The single boasts roaring rhythms of the organ that give it a touch of what listeners heard with Beirut’s earlier albums like Gulag Orkestar. Surround that by bright and uplifting harmonies – like ones from No No No – and what is created is a gorgeous combination of new and old, showcasing a maturation of sound that one would be hard-pressed not to have chills when listening to."

Beirut - gauze für zah, 2018

"The longest track on the album, Gauze für Zah, begins with the signature sound offered on more recent Randy Newman standards, before subtly slipping into deeper and haunting echoing’s as if one were settling into a meditative state."

Beirut - fountains and tramways, 2007

"Pompeii is an EP by Beirut, released in 2007. It features only the work of Zach Condon and pre-dates the Gulag Orkestar debut album. While initially only available exclusively through eMusic and Rough Trade Digital, it later could be found on iTunes and Amazon. The Amazon version included a third song called "Monna Pomona". The album cover features Zach Condon (on the left) and his younger brother Ross Condon (on the right)."

Beirut - so many plans, 2023

“During my time in Hadsel, I worked hard on the music, lost in a trance and stumbling blindly through my own mental collapse that I had been pushing aside since I was a teenager”

Beirut - guyamas sonora, 2007

"Condon and his collaborators (which include Final Fantasy's Owen Pallett, who even sings on the lovely "Cliquot") have not forgotten the kind of jocularity and community inherent in the folk traditions they pull from, so even as violins, organs, and harpsichords play dramatic and acute melodies and the vocals ascend to a feverish intensity, that feeling of being in the back of some tavern, passing around dishes and glasses and singing aloud with your compatriots, is present, and keeps things grounded, more real. "In the Mausoleum" balances syncopated piano with minor melodies and an ominous upright bass, while both "Guyamas Sonora" and the title track use dramatic horns to convey a kind of triumph in the prosperity of the tradition. It's thoughtful and fun and sophisticated, utterly alluring, another fantastic success by Zach Condon."

Beirut - the rip tide ber-abq version, 2022

"These ideas of acceptance, hope and personal reflection make The Rip Tide an accomplished, restrained record, which sees Condon forgetting his travels, and forging his own native sound."

Beirut - so allowed, 2015

"It’s strange to feel sad about a set of generally happy songs. It’s as if the romanticism of world music alienates Condon now, its faux European twists too reminiscent of a past he knew and has since waved goodbye to because someone else left him with no other choice. The fact that No No No was recorded during New York’s blizzard-filled winter doesn’t help. It’s clear he’s found new love, but it hasn’t taken hold with that adolescent magic. There’s unfinished wanting; “I want to say you’re mine,” Condon repeats come the end of “So Allowed”. He’s smiling the best he can, but the spirit is stifled, tired. Who can blame him? No No No is agreeable front to back, but it’s miles away from the youthful, heartfelt, inspired work of Beirut’s past — a world that may be too washed over with sadness to ever truly pull exuberance from again."

Beirut - fener, 2015

"Indie-rock band Beirut originally began as the solo act of frontman Zach Condon, who wrote and recorded the band’s debut album mostly by himself. After the record had some success, Condon recruited some friends to make a live debut, and the band Beirut was born. The band quickly found success with its well-rounded instrumentation. It used horns, strings and keyboards to achieve a folksy, yet full and nuanced sound that displayed influences ranging from traditional European folk to electronic. Four well-received albums and several EPs later, Condon and Beirut were more successful than ever, touring extensively at increasingly larger venues until Condon put an end to the band, citing both physical and creative exhaustion. “No No No” is Condon’s eagerly anticipated return to the music industry, and marks the band’s return to recording after four years."

Beirut - perth, 2015

"It was a slow burnout. I remember waking up thinking my mind was going one way, my body of going the other. It's hard to describe."

Beirut - august holland, 2015

"No No No is a world away from its predecessor. That album shared some common ground with the rest of the Beirut catalogue in that at its heart was genuine, ramshackle charm; this new record, though, is an exercise in elegance and poise. Given the bleak personal circumstances that frame its gestation, it is remarkably mellow - chirpy, almost, on the likes of ‘Perth’, a song named after the town in which Condon reached his nadir in 2013, and ‘Gibraltar’. The tracks sound low-key, but in fact, they’re cleverly taut compositions - the album runs just short of 30 minutes, and not a second goes to waste."

Beirut - the rip tide live oakland, 2019

"Why do you love Beirut? The question was being posed to me at a house party, one where the host’s superior collection of craft beer had turned me into a blushing and slightly over exuberant conversationalist with all the new cute strangers I met. This new cute stranger demonstrated enough basic hipster fashion trends (Warby Parkers and Japanese Denim) that I knew he’d heard of the indie band Beirut, but for whatever reason, had not come to worship them like I did. By answering his question “Why do you love Beirut?” I would have to craft my argument in an eloquent and fun fact-based manner, maybe even provide this information with a few coy half smiles, to reveal that I too had more secrets to reveal."

Beirut - when i die, 2019

"The members of Beirut unite for a series of therapeutic group experiments in their intense “When I Die” video. Multimedia artist Brody Condon directed the clip inside a Berlin Futuro house, guiding the musicians through meditative scenarios. They move around the floor in dramatic poses, sprawl out on their backs and lay their hands on each other — culminating in a scene with songwriter Zach Condon collapsing under their collective weight. “After the psychosomatic session that inspired the [cover art for Beirut’s recently issued LP, Gallipoli], I ran another session with Zach to guide a new video for ‘When I Die,'” Brody Condon said in a statement. “Something was missing. Later I learned the song was loosely about a fictional suicide cult, so I facilitated a group encounter with the band before their show in Berlin. I was surprised by their willingness to test each other’s boundaries, and spontaneously embody elements of Zach’s inner zone. They told me these intimate processes didn’t feel so differently from what they already do on stage.”

Beirut - guericke's unicorn, 2025

"‘A Study of Losses’ is an 18-track odyssey commissioned from Zachary by the theater and performance art company Kompani Giraff, for an acrobatic show of the same name. As a free interpretation of Judith Schalansky’s novel ‘Verzeichnis einiger Verluste,’ ‘A Study of Losses’ travels through eleven songs and seven extended instrumental themes, named after lunar seas and inspired by the chilling tale of a man obsessed with archiving all of humanity’s lost thoughts and creations. As with the novel, the new Beirut-signed album sees Condon writing about the disappearance, preservation and impermanence of everything we know: extinct animal species, lost architectural and literary treasures, the aging process and other abstract concepts."

Beirut - scenic world first version, 2006

“Scenic World” was first released as part of Zach Condon’s first album, Gulag Orkestar in 2006, then updated with different background music on Lon Gisland in December of the same year, once he had expanded Beirut into an eight-man mini-orchestra. While the newer version has gone on to be more popular, the original one still has a strong following. There’s a good case that the song is about how the lead singer and songwriter, Zach Condon, writes his songs. “As a teenager and a young adult, I never felt like my own story was interesting enough to tell, so I always wrote lyrics from someone else’s perspective– told someone else’s story,” he told Pitchfork in a 2011 interview. This song is about him escaping into those stories."

Beirut - mount wroclai idle days, 2006

"Twenty-year-old Zach Condon's war-torn alias is just the start of his obsession with conflict. The title of his debut album evokes Stalin's notorious labour camps and he's found inspiration in the battle-scarred spirit of the Balkans. Yet his music is a sublime mix of optimism and resignation. Mandolin, ukelele, horns and simmering percussion conjure up mournful celebrations; violins strike the tangled melee like shards of lightning."

Beirut - a candle’s fire, 2011

"It was hard for me not to listen to this album when it was readily available on Youtube. I promised myself only to listen to East harlem because it was the officially released song and nothing more. The day the album came in the mail was one of the most fantastic days I've had. Best album of 2011, in my opinion."

Beirut - east harlem, 2011

"The song was chosen upon release as Pitchfork Media's "Best New Track". Marc Hogan stated that, "East Harlem looks poised to undergo a similar sort of ripening as it becomes more and more familiar. The lyrics are sparse and rooted in classic, instantly communicative tropes: "Another rose wilts in East Harlem," Condon croons, as he wastes no words in vividly describing an intra-Manhattan relationship that feels like it's separated by "a thousand miles" (have you tried getting from downtown to East Harlem lately?)." Hogan continues by saying, "the stately backing is what we've come to expect from Beirut, with swaying accordion, rich brass, lively piano, and trebly strums, all in all more like a 2010 Williamsburg performance. By the time Condon switches things up, repeating, "Oh, the sound will bring me home again," over wordless backing vocals, he might as well be describing the warm, cozy but still distinctive feeling "East Harlem" has achieved."

Beirut - the rip tide live seattle, 2012

"a significant homecoming for Condon, the seeker who rejected his hometown and travelled in search of romantic sounds; as if, having seen the world, he can see his home in a new, more mature light."

Beirut - no dice, 2009

"This is absolutely one of my favorite songs of all time. Electronic, loopy and taking you places."