Just Another Day on the Beach

Before I even stepped foot into the Metro last evening, I knew something special was going to take place. Teen Dream, the latest release by indie dream-pop outfit Beach House, has held my iPod and listening pleasure hostage since its release this past January—making little room for any additional competition. Both excited and nervous that my long anticipated personal experience with their live performance may either blow me away or underwhelm, I soon learned that I had absolutely nothing to worry about.


I was a mere one of many eager fans in the crammed, sold-out house, stilling anxiously when Beach House kicked their hour long set off at 10:15 sharp. The stage was decked in a display of large, suspended, glittery foiled diamond shapes, which majestically twirled and shimmered amidst the various red, violet, fuchsia, golden, green and blue illuminated hues. The setup itself posed the ideal backdrop of a dream sequence – which is exactly what seemed to unfold as the trio of musicians took the stage and opened the night up with the blissful and lazy “Walk in the Park.”

Victoria Legrand’s seemingly effortless vocal magic transcended on a level which should be humanly impossible. The translation from recorded album to the stage is eerily dead-on, if not even more raw and guttural, yet soothing and mesmerizing. Legrand’s overall stage presence was in itself something to be awed; backed up with enchanting organ work, she seemed subdued, swaying, while other times head banging and hopping – the woman proved herself as an incredible front woman. That’s not to say that guitarist Alex Scally did not hold his own as well. Without his sheer instrumentation and musicianship, the musical equation that took hold last evening would not have been possible. Combined with his guitar skills, keys and the addition of a touring percussionist, the experience would not have nearly had the full throttle it held.

The entirety of Teen Dream was accounted for, in addition to a handful of other older favorites to the crowd’s pleasure. The 60-odd minutes that Beach House took over the Metro passed exactly as it should have – dreamily, trancelike, quickly and unreal. No words, descriptors or review can do proper justice to witnessing such magical and thunderous peaks of seasickness and musical otherworldliness as such highlights as “Zebra,” “Silver Soul” or “Norway” live. At no point did I feel a sense of who or where I was, or what I was doing there—it was a beautiful hypnotic sequence, pure and simple. Majesty unfolded and pure musicianship prevailed. Last night was one dream I did not want to wake up from.