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Zach Condon, multi-instrumentalist, frontman and founder of Beirut, caused quite a stir with his debut album Gulag Orkestrar. A remarkably succinct album, it illustrates a promising future for this young and immensely talented musician. With The Flying Cup Club, Condon and Beirut live up to their potential by delivering a refined and expanded edition of their legacy.

The Flying Cup Club seems to build on Gulag Orkestrar's weaknesses, expand on its sound and bring to bear better lyrics to Beirut's wonderful musical arrangements. The Balkan Brass Band sound of Eastern Europe played heavy influence on Gulag Orkestrar. With The Flying Cup Club, Condon expands his sound with songs rich with horn arrangements, screaming violin crescendos, organ and accordion. It has the sound of classic French pop music, reminiscent of Jacques Brel and French chanson music, with its over-the-top melodies and barroom chant qualities.

After leaving Albuquerque to travel Europe, Condon has made the New York City borough of Brooklyn his home. Relentlessly touring and recording, Condon seems to continually teeter on the edge of exhaustion. Since Gulag Orkestrar's release in 2006, Condon released two singles, "Pompeii" and "Elephant Gun," an EP, Lon Gisland, all while touring North America and Europe. "Elephant Gun" is one of my favorites, a tender stomp of a song that highlights Condon's songwriting skill. "If I was young/I'd flee this town/I'd bury my dreams underground/As did I, we drink to die, we drink tonight/Far from home, elephant gun/Let's take them down one by one/We'll lay it down, it's not been found, it's not around."

This torrid pace has bred eager anticipation for The Flying Cup Club and has quickly catapulted the young Condon to something of an indie-rock legend. The lifestyle eventually caught up with Condon, putting him in a Paris hospital bed, which led to the cancellation of concerts during his '06 fall tour. The lyrics of "Cliquot," which is also a French champagne, delivers the sentiment: "I'll beat on my drum ?till I'm dead/yesterday a fever, tomorrow St. Peter/I'll beat on my drum until then/What melody will lead my lover from his death? /What melody will see him in my arms again?"

The Flying Cup Club's opening track, "A Call to Arms," is akin to the sound of a horn section tuning up for a performance. "Nantes" opens with the sound of a waltzing keyboard, Condon's ominous voice, a wonderful percussion arrangement and, later, horn arrangements complete with trombone and French horn - and abruptly ends. Midway through the track, Beirut's improved studio productions include an interlude of a breaking glass bottle interspersed with a conversation between a French man and women. Lyrics ring, "It's been a long time long time now/since I've seen you smile/I gamble away my time." It is as if he left and is singing to Nantes itself, one of France's finest and most beautiful cities.

Following "Nantes" is "A Sunday Smile," which opens with the lurching and echoing circus sound of a keyboard Condon found in New Mexico. "A Sunday Smile" showcases the improvement of Condon's voice and the attention he has taken to improving its quality. The Flying Cup Club's title track concludes the album with one of its finest arrangements. Within moments, the song goes from delightful and open to a a charging militant chant, closing the chapter of this immensely passionate work. It is clear that Condon and Beirut have evolved to deliver a new angle on an old world. Like the worn and tattered photograph on the album cover, Condon and Beirut bring the past to life.

Beirut is currently touring major cities of the U.S. and Europe: www.beirutband.com. Hopefully, we will see Condon come home to Albuquerque and once again delight his Four Corners fans.

Hear Paul Paradis's "French Press" show every Thursday from 6 - 8 a.m. on KDUR 91.9 FM and 93.9 FM, where you can listen to everything from indie rock and Top 40 to German electronic music.