You know you are in for a night of indie rock when there is a line around the block of young adults in various colors and designs of vans and chucks, a multitude of black rimmed glasses, more than one kid who needs a shower, and a number of people who look as though they have yet to hit puberty. And this is great, fine really, unless this block and a half of people are trying to get into a club in which only about a third can fit. All of a sudden, your night of indie rock has turned into a bona-fide mob scene, where six months, a year, down the road, as Beirut is playing Black Cat or 9:30 Club, you will be able to say “I was one of the lucky few that got to see them at Warehouse Next Door in August ‘06, it was really intimate.”

At 9:45, after waiting since 8pm, I was one of the lucky few to get in. In fact, Warehouse Next Door closed the doors a few people after I squished myself into the one nook in the back that still had some breathing room. The management kindly put a live feed over at their bar/lounge/playhouse Warehouse (next door to Next Door) for those unlucky hundreds that failed to make the cut. (I overheard the door man, however, complaining that people kept turning down the speakers over there, and I noticed when checking it out myself that the “live feed” could barely be heard over the chatter.) Regardless, for those of us that did get in, we were in for a night of confusing sounds, sweaty masses, some moments of brilliant music, a band with energy to spare, another band with that needed a heavy dose of Red Bull, and a third band that seemed like a poor choice for this night.

Images by flickr user Jerr-Face

The Curtains, the new band from Deerhoof's Chris Cohen , opened the night with an experimental, music-school-esque rock. To be honest, with the tightly packed crowd, the groans of people trying to find a suitable space to stand and the multitudes throwing cash towards the bar in hopes of catching the bartender’s eye overpowered their playful, lyrical music. From what I could hear, the music, while interesting, seemed much more of an interplay between serious musicians experimenting with sound and musical flavor, than a band trying to bring a cohesive sound to a crowd. I certainly have no problem with this type of music as its very conducive to relaxing at home, working or hanging with a few friends perhaps. This, however, is not music for a packed bar waiting for a Balkan inspired “orkestrar.”

The second band of the night was the bizarre filling to this oddly compiled “indie” sandwich of music. Get Him Eat Him, from Rhode Island, definitely turned the energy up after the sleepy lullabies of The Curtains. With intense synth rhymths and a hard beat, the songs were all quite dance-worthy. The lead singer has a deep, mid-90s grunge voice that seemed to clash with the new wave-inspired musical background. Get Him Eat Him had a particular cringe-worthy moment when they used some sort of distortion on the vocals (my lack of technical prowess and of direct view to the stage prevents me from being more explicit as to what they used). The same song off the album isn’t nearly as bad as what came out onstage nonetheless, I witnessed a handful of grimmaces at the death metal growling coming from the stage during this song. Perhaps it was the sound system, but I was underwhelmed.

When Beirut finally came on around 11:30, the crowd settled in, body temperatures rose, screaming ensued. Starting with the first song off of the heavily Balkan/traditional European-inspired album Gulag Orkestrar, the band (at this point only 6 members were onstage), brought life to the club. With horns, a tambourine player (who’s enthusiasm was enviable), ukeleles, congo, violin, cello, clarinet, accordian, fiddle, keyboard and drums, Beirut’s music is palpable. Zach Condon's voice is more eery in person than on his CD. While some people have been describing it as Morrissey-esque, in person, his singing truly sounds as if he is conjuring a old greek woman, lamenting the death of her only son. He undulates, soars, drops his voice, and brings a depth of emotion into his singing that is rarely heard and even more surprising coming from someone so young. His voice was the band's strongest instrument. By the end of the set, there were 8 musicians on the small stage, and the venue itself felt as though it was moving with the music.

“Postcards to Italy” was the highlight of the first set, beginning with the pastoral sounds of a ukulele and building as the brass instruments seemed to be heralding the rising sun. “Scenic World” was a pleasant surprise. Unlike the keyboard-heavy album version, Beirut focused on the violin and cello in the intro. Though Condon did ask for the keyboards to be turned up after it was over, nothing was lost by the lack of keyboard sound, as it provided a new interpretation of the song.

The encore, was by far the best part of the night. Pitchfork recently wrote of Beirut “Still, the question ought to be asked: Are the songs really so incredible or do they simply mimic and mine musical traditions unfamiliar to the average indie rock fan?” Beirut proved that this question really doesn’t matter, nor does the answer. Starting with four tambourines held in the air, the band was raucous, excited and inspired to the core by the energy of this traditional music, and the audience responded by cheering, stomping their feet and clapping.Perhaps indie rock fan’s haven’t heard this music before, but bravo to Beirut for bringing this music to our musically inexperienced ears and showing us that there is inspiration to be found everywhere. Were Ezra Pound alive today, I’d imagine he’d induct Beirut into the Modernist hall of fame -- they take something from the past and "make it new" and accessible to the modern listener.

Overall, the Curtains were idiosyncratic, interesting yet not enthralling. Get Him Eat Him came across as a bit generic. Beirut was a heavy jolt of culture, energy, and enthusiasm that the indie rock scene, too often steeped in apathy and jadedness in the name of “cool”, has long been wanting. While the venue’s sound system couldn’t handle them (though props to the sound guy for trying) and the space was too small for 8+ musicians, DCist looks forward to repeat visits from Beirut. We hope next time that they play at a venue that can hold all the hundreds of fans that showed up this past Wednesday, and the additional fans that Beirut will no doubt amass.