sometimes the best is at the beginning

Helmut.Is and Beirut, Columbiahalle, September 19, 2012

O fuck me it’s Wednesday.

I bought tickets to see Beirut back in May, and after obsessively listening to the latest album Riptide (see an earlier post that is laced with lots of hyperbole) it seemed perfectly reasonable to buy tickets to show five months in advance. However, let's just say prior to the show I was not feeling it, what with it being mid-week and all, and plus I believe Columbiahalle may be one of the worst venues in Berlin.  Saying the acoustics are better inside my oven may be an insult to my oven.  A sold out show at Columbiahalle is like a boat evacuation of a war torn land: everybody wants on and there is only so much space. However, yours truly is a brave little cadet and shoves all the workaday things aside to maybe go hear something transcendental that will make stepped on toes and arguing in German worth it.

Beirut

And...I will cover the headliner first because the pleasant surprise was the opener, Helmut.is.  So Beirut came and readily admitted they were ragged after lots of touring.  The wear and tear was definitely evident, while the playing was excellent (the lead is definitely a virtuoso, and they have three horn players AND an upright bass) the band seemed to lack energy and enthusiasm.  They treated us to many gems off the latest album, including "Santa Fe," "A Candle's Fire," and the wrist-slitter "Goshen."  The highlight was "East Harlem."  What this band needs to be appreciated for is how they incorporate Eastern European influences without descending into camp.  Beirut knows how to make horns sound plaintive and needy, the soundtrack to nostalgia.  Put this on when far from home, and when Zach Condon tells you there's "a thousand miles between us," you have permission to yearn.

And the special guest and pleasantly surprising opener was Helmut.is.  No, he's not from Iceland, he's from Berlin.  Taking the stage before the sweaty, antsy throng that is the Beirut crowd, with the requisite combed over bangs and facial hair, Helmut.is is the modern one man band. Sitting before a buffet of effects pedals, he starts by strumming a chord, then looping it back, snapping his fingers, and repeating that track, building up a song piece by piece.  Normally wary of tons of effects which can mask crap musicianship, I am here to tell you this is the real thing.  Let's call it the layer theory of song building.  Highly recommended the seven minute jam "sepi," which tells you to "stay put/to regain control."  Put this EP on when the sky is gray and close, and you can't decide if getting up is at all possible. The album will decide for you.

Helmut.is

Beirut – The Rip Tide

 Oh my God what Zach Condon does with horns…

I saw Beirut at the Berlin Festival 2011 where their set was a highlight. Another arrival in the multi-instrumentalist style band like Arcade Fire & Camera Obscura, Beirut is distinguished by three things: distinct vocals & lyrics, nontraditional instruments, and a brilliant, non annoying use of horns. I chose to see them at the festival because of a song called Brandenburg, off the first album, Gulag Orkestar, and I currently work in Brandenburg, so that seemed a good a reason as any (well thought out I know). The brainchild of an Albuquerque, New Mexican, Zach Condon, Beirut is anchored by unique instruments that are played in a modern way. So a ukelele that is rocked more than strummed, and keyboards that oscillate between traditional organ and modern day electronic.  And some truly beautiful use of strings.  Apparently Condon dropped out of high school and traveled around Eastern Europe, where he gathered inspiration for Gulag Orkestar.  That sort of bleak, melancholy vibe runs throughout the album., Condon’s vocals are the most distinguished, which rise stories above the sea of recent man-going-on-about-sad-things that is popular at the moment (think Bon Iver, Iron & Wine, Fleet Foxes).  There is no wheedling or yearning, just pure pain of “She’s waiting for the night to fall/Let it fall, I’ll never make it in time.” (East Harlem).  Another gem is the “Rip Tide”: “and this is the house where I, I feel alone, feel alone now/ and this the house where I, where I could be unknown, be alone now”  So walk out to where the sea meets the debris, drag your sad-sorry-bastard long face to some promontory overlooking something, think about youngWerther & his sorrows, and let the violins play.