Zach Condon is the frontman of the eccentric band Beirut. Condon is young and his youth shows through much of his music, but it is a youth that has heritage, much like Joe Pug's, but less American, trading an acoustic guitar for a mandolin and accordion. Beirut is a band that feels much more communal than a lot of folk, it has its roots in Balkan folk and their songs usually require a plethora of instruments - accordions, mandolins, ukeleles, violins, drums, tamborines - along with some voices to back Condon. 'Forks and Knives' feels much like this, like it's a song sung round the table after a dinner party in a French cottage.
The song starts with these waltz-like violins that level out and mingle with the accordion as Condon flows along singing of people's spirits as they seem able to turn the weather warm and light like the ebb and flow of a tame river. This yields a chorus of merry song accompanied by a steady cymbal and snare and the melodic accordion, violin, and mandolin playing throughout.
The middle stanza intercedes and Condon keeps his word-waltz stepping as he talks of sad words from wise birds, words that may keep the organic street afloat as they break into another orchestral round. The horns come in, as is Beirut's way, and synchronize the accompanying instruments around it, and perhaps relay the message of the wise old bird with his sad words, although, it may be the bird itself speaking.
The horns yield to the accordions providing the background for Condon's last stanza of the tale, as he talks of "He" who could be that old bird, or could be a new old man, either way he speaks of the things that make his life worth living - his stories of superb wine, rich memories, and a melancholy hospital bed. I picture this as a man who gave the hitchhiking Condon a ride in the French countryside in this fictional memoir, a man who sat him down and fed him hearty food and wealthy wine and told him rich tales of old - of heroism and romance, breaking his heart and summoning laughter with each alternating weave.
About the hospital bed - I picture him talking of the loss of loved ones, like he was a man with a loving large family that he lost one by one, that he had to endure death with over and over in that hospital bed and maybe he experienced bad health himself, recovering then reverting then recovering all the while his life ebbs and flows like a river with the hospital bed as its eddy. This is a man that has experienced much and probably speaks regularly with that sad old bird, they speak the same language, though the well-meaning old man has a more optimistic dialect that seems to confuse the bird.
Conjecturing aside, this song is pure listening pleasure, if the taste of honey had a musical parallel it would undoubtedly be this sweet song.
Take away show courtesy of Vincent Moon and La Blogotheque:
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