Beach House
ISSUE #187
Over eight albums and almost twenty years, surprisingly little has changed about Beach House. They still write gothic, cavernous love songs that glint and gleam like the sea. Their instrumentation is still largely synth pads and slide guitars. Victoria Legrand still wafts her haunted, dreamy tenor through Alex Scally’s smokescreen of sound.
Yet they always find a way to sound fresh—one of the only bands of their class to live up to their hype over and over. They’ve steadily ballooned in size and scope, pulling one of rock’s last stadium acts out of a basement duo’s hat—a four-track recorder in Baltimore yielded a self-titled album over two short days, and now their latest currently sits as the highest-selling album in America.
Part of this is commitment to tried-and-true formula, but it also speaks to instincts that reside in us all. The difference between passionate and companionate love is subtle—it’s less of a transition than a shimmering dissolve—but mirrors the tectonics of a ocean trench. Partners and their habits feel the same every day, but every new sunrise brings changes from the last. Love deepens over time.
Beach House’s methods sound the same, but they have deepened. Once Twice Melody is everything at once—amalgam and apotheosis. And since it’s all I’ve been listening to, I’ve made a Beach House primer. Enjoy this little piece of fantasia.
MJ Lenderman is one of the greatest guitarists. A supreme pleasure I get out of listening to his latest album is the sick guitar. He makes it talk, baby! I hear Dinosaur Jr. and Zappa’s best; I hear chapters in a book that switches narrators.