Beirut - The Rip Tide

The Rip Tide is Beirut at its most concise and heartfelt, a nine-song 2011 album where Zach Condon trades globe-trotting for something closer to home.

After two albums steeped in Balkan brass and French chanson, Condon released this one on his own Pompeii label, and it feels like a homecoming. The songs are shorter and warmer, with ukulele, brass and piano arranged tightly around his rich, melancholy croon, and the mood is noticeably sunnier.

Santa Fe is a buoyant tribute to the New Mexico city where Condon grew up, carried by a skipping beat and a chorus that sticks for days. East Harlem sways with bittersweet longing, Goshen strips back to a spare, piano-led ballad, and A Candle's Fire opens the album on a stately, horn-swelled note.

At just over half an hour, nothing is wasted, and the brevity makes every brass swell land harder. The mood shifts between celebration and quiet ache, often within a single song, and Condon's warm, wavering voice ties it all together.

For indie fans who love a little romance and a lot of brass, this is the Beirut album that rewards repeat plays most generously, and it sounds especially lovely on a quiet evening with the lights down low.