“Teen Dream,” Baltimore dream-pop duo Beach House’s third LP, their first with indie-major label Sub Pop, is more refined and structured than their previous work while being both more and less intimate. The music is essentially beautiful and each individual element is aesthetically appealing. These are whimsically infectious songs to sing along to like a fool. Beach House no longer hides behind so much fuzzy electronic noise but proudly present their well-rehearsed parts. The expression is clear, but they are performers now with their inner selves projected unfettered by effects even as they are obscured by their own omission. The composition is still dreamlike, but as figments of that dream, the band seems more awake, more energetic than before.
The delicately rhythmic guitar of Alex Scally advances through the first two tracks as a pernicious idea of creation amidst adark void. One by one the other elements, backing vocal loops sans consonants, Victoria Legrand’s lead vocals and organ, keyboard, drums, electronic effects and tambourine, attach themselves to the growing sound like layers in a dream. And operating as if in a dream where the smallest inconsistency can destroy the illusion, Beach House only rarely, carefully strips away an element and never changes the thrust or feel or an individual song. Rather than change direction, tracks typically build in intensity until just before the end.
Lyrics to opening song and single “Zebra” are sung to the fictionalized animal, “You know you’re gold/You don’t gotta worry none/Oasis child/Born and so wild.” The album art is a slew of decontextualized zebra stripes, perhaps beckoning listeners to ponder some greater meaning and metaphor about the potentially deceptive “black and white horse” as the choice of subject seems equally important to what’s said about it.
There’s more experimenting of styles throughout the middle of the album in tracks such as “Walk in the Park” which features a Stereolab lounge vibe punctuated by rapid guitar melodies and vocal eruptions of joy. Simple electronic beats coarse through “Used to be” and “Lover of Mine,” the latter with bright treble keyboard riffs glistening above—reminiscent of female trio Au Revoir Simone. Just as their songs are juxtaposed deep rhythmic beats and ornate flourishes, Legrand’s typical low alto vocals are enhanced by soft, lilting diffusion. Each syllable she sings starts and ends delicately, partially obscuring her core strength.
The beginning of the end of the 10 track, near 50 minute album, “10 Miles Stereo” is an existential, vacuous ballad of anxious excitement that creates space so real you can see the silent stars. It begins with a drum kick followed by a looping guitar melody played at different pitches. Enter Legrand explaining, “They said we would go far, but they don't know how far we'd go/'Cause this heart is a stone, and this is a stone that we throw,” and finally, soft electric waves. Then it slowly builds in stages, with full drums, backing male vocals, cymbals crashing stealing the show and then even bigger drums. The penultimate track “Real Love” features minimalist piano and a varied vocal performance from Legrand culminating in her cooing “I met you” in beautiful, soft, fuzzy falsetto. Her voice is like the warm glow of static from an analog TV set with the volume turned low. This comforting sentiment is brought to the forefront in the last track, “Take Care” featuring the lyrics “I’ll take care of you/Take care of you/That’s true” repeated over and over. It’s a tempting offer that may have some playing this beautiful album on repeat.
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