Music Review: Beirut - March of the Zapotec
Zach Condon has a vast imagination. Its taken him to the far reaches of the globe. From his humble Santa Fe domicile he's been to Eastern Europe, Paris, and now, Oaxaca. With a horn in tow and a hired translator he ventured to the home of the Aztecs.
Beirut is a gateway to world culture in a universal language. And as such, Condon's rag-tag Mexican funeral band for March of the Zapotec doesn't just steep his songs in tequila and bake them in the hot Baja sun, it takes us all with him for the journey.
"La Llorona" (the Spanish legend of the weeping lady) maintains the street-band feel of Beirut's past efforts with a tale of a man who tries to buy a stubborn lover's affection. "The Akara" - probably where Condon got the inspiration for his March title - sways with rattling drums and crying trumpets as a mistress who, tired of waiting for her lover, cuts her "kite strings" free. The lovely "On a Bayonet" bleeds right in to thematic closer "The Shrew" that erupts with cymbal crashes in a cacophony of Latin madness.
After the closing number, Condon's secondary moniker Realpeople make its debut (Holland) with five tunes; some of which pre-date his Beirut experiments. It's a neat addition to see how far he's come in such a short time. "My Night With a Prostitute from Marseille" and "Venice", in particular, come off sounding like what might happen if Dntel's Jimmy Tamborello made a second Postal Service record using Zach's vocal talents instead of Ben Gibbard's.
Bottom line though: this short, 6-song glimpse into Mexico's rich traditions is glorious. But the remarkable part is that Condon has kept the Beirut experience fresh by incorporating the sounds of each passport stamp (Gulag Orkestar, The Flying Club Cup) and twining it into his study current location. The ghosts of his Russian and Parisian trips are resurrected in March of the Zapotec for the gigantic splendor of Dia de los Muertos.
