If I cared to take a look back at myself four, maybe even three years ago, I was a musical philistine. I was extremely close-minded, even
fanatically against listening to a hell of a lot of things, and I feel like I’m only just beginning to scratch the surface of what I missed out on. Sure, there were some unusual choices in my collection, but they were in the clear minority. I could chalk it up to simple ignorance, or maybe it was fear of change. Ultimately, it pays dividends to branch out as far as is possible, stretching the extra mile to discover something that could possibly change your perception of music as a whole, and how it relates to your own humanity – whether through emotional tie-lines or basking in it and warming your soul.
Despite a band with a name that brings up imagery of shading your face from the sun, brushing off sand and tearing off clothes to leap into the crashing surf, Beach House sound exactly like winter; undeniably chilled, crystalline melodies refracting like dull light through ice. When they released their eponymous debut album in 2006, they had plenty of room to grow – although the lo-fi sounds of their early work was, in a word, gorgeous, they hadn’t reached their zenith by a long shot. Through this and their second album, Devotion, they explored a sound akin to walking through a degraded and empty old home, unable to locate the stereo from which the sounds are sourced. Granted, Devotion was more imminent in its production, but it still kept the listener at a certain distance.
With Teen Dream, their third and latest release, the duo of Alex Scally and Victoria Legrand (interestingly enough, the niece of acclaimed film composer Michael Legrand) deliver a much more forthcoming effect. The band chose to record their first album for Sub Pop in a converted church, and the obvious atmosphere that permeates their sound brings it to a different level altogether. From the get-go the album is soaked in a dreamy resonance that might be in danger of being sterile, if it wasn’t for the masterful strokes of inspiration that make up these songs. ‘Zebra’, with its understated beats and fluid guitar line, escalates into a wash of cymbals. The result is a staggering introduction to the album that somehow remains minimalist, at least compared to some of the later tracks such as the lead single, ‘Norway’. The synthesiser that rides the verses of ‘Norway’ is unsettling, with its shifting pitch and Legrand’s vocals bubbling above it, just barely – and the song’s one-word chorus introduces a strange catchiness.
Although Teen Dream is unquestionably beautiful, and its moments of grandeur are hardly few and far-between, there is a tendency to lose focus on the songs – not through a lack of immediacy but rather because the waves of sound wash over rather than break – there’s no crash, only gentle lapping at the shore. This is, in the big picture, a minor flaw; when songs like ‘Walk in the Park’ peak, luscious vocals pushing forth with ‘In a matter of time/it would slip from my mind/in a matter of time/in and out of my life’, this is where the true beauty of this album lies – simplicity.
This work of heart-aching splendour isn’t a mere collection of songs; it’s a living, breathing organism of pure, dreamlike sound. If Beach House haven’t hit their summit yet, they haven’t got far to climb.
My rating? 9 out of 10.
Teen Dream is out now on Sub Pop Records.
