I Remember A Soldier Sleeping Next To Me

“I saw Berlin last night,” I told the people I work with. They were amazed, and didn’t know they were still together even after that VH1 reunion show. I meant to say Beirut. They start with B, are six letters, and are capitals to countries that have had their fair share of strife. Or maybe I am just (too) old, or old enough to be around when the former was topping the charts. I think I had the 45.

Beirut played fairly private show at Spin magazine’s offices. They are what I call “gypsy folk” with their vagabond chic and nomadic-like swagger. Devendra Banhart and Sufjan Stevens, and Neutral Milk Hotel fit into this genre. It was NMH’s ex-drummer that helped the masses see the force of this Beirut.

The “stage” at Spin was adorned with horns, ukuleles, a violin, packs of American Spirit with cell phones resting on top, a pair of black wire-rimmed glasses, pachuco type matching Dickies outfits with bandanna headbands, and a slightly aloof fluffy-haired, regular looking kid leading the madness with a steadfast tenacity.

During the show, one of them tapped the drumstick on his bottle of beer for a song; they harmonized and enchanted, danced around and got spastic, all while Zach Condon stayed calm, his feet moving anxiously, but with caution. He apparently has had some failed attempts at wowing an audience. That was not the case here. At 20 years old, this “one man band” reminds me that feelings are free; it’s the expression that might cost you. But contained in his spot, Condon’s control over the frenzy of sound was liberating and fresh. I just hope the hype doesn’t put this Beirut in ruins.