Welcome to Beirut (*Stick on the web ASAP)

The music industry is becoming a war zone - a relentless battle to win the minds and wallets of every target market capable of swiping a credit card. We are bombarded with scenes and styles, all delicately re-packaged and regurgitated to reinforce the fallacy of cutting edge culture. The underground is overground, Sandi Thom is almost credible and melodic substance has been replaced by meticulous haircuts.

But, in this tyrannous time of mass-marketed musical brands, guerrillas are appearing in the mist; valiantly loading up on melody and aiming for the heart of a commercially insatiable industry. One of the leaders in this post-modernistic mutiny is twenty year-old Brooklynite Zach Condon - the brainchild behind Beirut's traversing gypsy folk masterpiece, 'Gulag Orkestar'.

Speaking to The Skinny, Zach cites a trip to Europe as the inspiration behind the textured Balkan sound of his debut record. "I swear I was about to write my magnum doo wop opus before [going to Europe]," he says bluntly. "A big turning point came once I started listening to classic music from Europe – now my record collection consists mainly of old French pop, chaunter music and Eastern European gypsy songs."

This astonishing appreciation of musical form is entwined in every inch of 'Gulag Orkestar's symphonic soundscape. But just as startling is Zach's unique approach to vocals, deploying them as a breathtaking orchestral instrument rather than the record's focal point. "The most important thing for me in music is the melodic hook," he proclaims. "I feel no need to say anything over songs – the sounds are more than powerful enough."

This fundamental approach to Beirut's song structuring is a refreshing antithesis to the mainstream's 'he who shouts loudest wins' philosophy but, having recorded the album almost entirely alone, can he be coerced into sharing songwriting duties? "I definitely prefer working by myself," he says proudly. "Being in a band is a thrill but not until I have something concrete to bring to it. On my own I'm completely free to let the songs morph into new things as my feelings for them change."

And it's this intrinsic fluidity that turns 'Gulag Orkestar' into a jaw-dropping triumph. Ingrained within the nooks of its mesmerising horns and voluptuous violins is a malleable sense of expressionism. Tracks like Bratislava evoke an array of emotion that capture the musings of a tortured soul, and it's a deduction Zach grudgingly accepts: "Any frustration you hear is more with myself than the world. Or it's more likely to be with the world outside my bedroom window, like insects or squirrels."

Produced entirely in Zach's Santa Fe bedroom, 'Gulag Orkestar' is a glowing testament to digital advancement, but how does Beirut's multi-faceted instrumentation fare in the confines of an expansive stage? "The live set is very loose with lots of sing-a-longs and big drums," he enthuses. "I haven't altered the songs much as we have a lot of instruments on stage but it's more about the excitement of music than the subtleties at that point."

Looking to the future, Condon is typically enigmatic over Beirut's sonic direction, seemingly happy to continue with his nomadic conception of songwriting: "I try not to approach things with a masterplan. There are all sorts of albums I wish I could do – French pop, bossa nova, Calypso," he says teasingly. "But you can be sure I'll be spending any big advance on drinks to bring back to my bedroom studio."

It's not quite the ferocious battle cry of a musical insurgent, but in the prodigious mind of Zach Condon the greatest revolutions always start at home.