Beach House delivers serene masterpiece
Published Oct. 6, 2006
If you've ever been to any popular beach at sunrise, you understand how distinctly different it is from being there at daytime. During the morning/afternoon, any half-decent beach is full of screaming kids and bumbling tourists, smells like sunscreen, has any number of balls or Frisbees one overthrow away from making you look like you took a Mike Tyson punch under the eye and, above all, is hot as hell. Not to mention, the water is packed with people, making you feel like a bobbing carrot among countless other vegetables in an overflowing pot of soup.
As the sun rises, though, there is no one to your left or right. Everything is behind you, so the sunrise is clearly visible. If the season's right, a cool breeze drifts off the tide, and the sand is as soft as your finest Italian furniture. The overall experience is serene, peaceful, tranquil and beautiful.
And so is Baltimore fuzz-pop duo Beach House.
Taking cues from English twosome Broadcast, Beach House's self-titled debut is a lo-fi, dreamy, reverb-drenched, electronic gem.
Organist/vocalist Victoria Legrand is the wistful, seductive star of the two — her voice sounding something like a cross between Nico and The Fiery Furnaces' Eleanor Friedberger. What she says is sometimes indecipherable, but her lyrics are less important than how they are delivered.
On nearly all the tracks, her lazy coo nestles its way among the steady reverb and the swashing keyboards, creating a vibe that is not unlike (hate to use the analogy again) a sunrise. The colors are distinct in places, but they also intermingle, creating a color, or here, a sound of their own.
Alex Scally works the slide guitar, floating his way around these songs, content to setting the whispery, hazy background.
These are lovesick songs; Legrand pensively addresses her counterpart directly, always letting herself assume the position of power. This style of song can tread treacherous waters. Female artists, like the UK's Lily Allen, who write nasty kiss-offs can be cute sometimes, but too much bravado is bitchy and smug. Thankfully, her lover is always the one you feel for because Legrand crafts it that way, not because the narrator is such a bitch that you pity the guy.
Take "Apple Orchard," the album's heart-stopping centerpiece. Legrand paints her man as one who needs and depends on her ("You always give me what you don't want to hold/ Ask the questions that you don't know at all"), but she's there to rescue him: "Warm you're heart love, cause you're by my side." Legrand's shadowy vocals are enough, but like the best songs on Beach House, it's the instrumentation that conveys the most telling sentiments.
The last minute of "Apple Orchard" falls like the heaviest tear ever cried. Under a steady ripple of reverb, Scally whittles and needles his guitar through the sorrow. But the steadiness mirrors the song's security; no matter how much of a wreck this dude is, Legrand is the most comforting and trustworthy gal this sap could have.
But even when it's Legrand who's chasing, like in opener "Saltwater," which at one point nearly cribs a melody from Coldplay's "Fix You," she taunts the guy, makes him the fool for not taking her, not her the fool for getting rejected.
These aren't all slow-burners. "Master of None" picks up a steadier drumbeat, and Legrand delivers her most lively vocal performance on the album, even letting her voice reach its upper register. Scally lets his guitar work through the webs woven by the reverb, organ, etc.
Beach House is a tight, pointed work. Its notes rise, roll, slosh and steady like placid water. Although it's aurally somber, it gives off a certain glow. It's mood music, made for that transition between grief and resignation. And like a good sunrise, Beach House, both the band and album, is stunning.
Artist: Beach House
Album: Beach House
Genre: Dream pop
Record Label: Carpark
Release Date: Oct. 3
Most Listenworthy Track: 'Apple Orchard'
Reviewer's Rating: 4 out of 5 Ms