Gallipoli

With Condon's warm quaver and bevy of brass instruments, acoustic and electric guitars, electronic and acoustic drums, accordion, and mix of pianos, organs, and synthesizers including modular synths gathered under a production ethos that dials up already colorful arrangements to Technicolor spectacle.

Gallipoli is almost always an intriguing listen. Soaking the sound they’ve spent over a decade cultivating in dazzling Italian sun, Beirut’s latest is a welcome summer holiday.

Gallipoli--a complete departure from band’s musically stale, emotionally sleepy No No No--reminds long-time listeners of the initial hype that surrounded Condon and Beirut long ago.

Condon’s constant obsession with anachronism occasionally yields lovely, even compelling results. Other times, listening to his music feels like talking to friends from high school you’ve lost touch with. There’s good stuff here, but ultimately, it’s hard to be excited about something that feels so seriously entrenched in the past.

At times his croon resembles Jens Lekman’s, and it makes you wish he paired, as Lekman does, his romance with wit and self-effacement. ... All that said, there are plenty of plainly beautiful moments on Gallipoli.