Beirut's 'Flying Club' palette Parisian-inspired

Beirut, "The Flying Club Cup" (Ba-Da-Bing!) 3 1/2 stars

Zach Condon has such a global imagination, it's hard to believe he's just a 21-year-old kid from Albuquerque. For "Gulag Orkestar," his 2006 debut as Beirut, he was assisted by members of A Hawk and a Hacksaw but mostly recorded himself at his parents' house. The blogosphere subsequently sizzled in tribute to its arresting mix of Magnetic Fields-inspired indie pop and Balkan folk. By winter, the whirlwind of attention and touring left Condon hospitalized with exhaustion, yet he and his new eight-member group managed to get the "Lon Gisland" EP out before year's end.

Two more EPs later, we have the second Beirut long-player. Even with the full band in tow and Condon's newfound fascination with the music and culture of France, "The Flying Club Cup" (in stores Oct. 9) doesn't differ too much from "Gulag" except that its swooning strains evoke a lonely Parisian café instead of Borat weeping in his borscht.

Well, also, the odd electro-pop tunes are gone, making for a more consistent immersion, and Final Fantasy's Owen Pallett contributes lush string arrangements, adding to the disc's professional sheen. Nonetheless, Condon's David Byrne-on-absinthe croon assures effervescent waltzes like "A Sunday Smile" and "Forks and Knives (La Fête)" resound with ragged-edged warmth. Pallett, sounding like a soft rock radio version of Condon, takes lead vocals on the soaring "Cliquot," which concludes with a lovely swirl of strings, accordion and mariachi-like horns.

"The Flying Club Cup" is adventuresome, intricate, erudite and sincere. From the mandolin-dominated "The Penalty" to the moody tango "In the Mausoleum," Beirut has crafted another must-hear masterpiece of worldly indie pop, one that's even better than the celebrated debut. This is music for drizzly afternoons, for congealed memories, for souls born in the wrong time and place.