Noise

Soaring and crumbling with Beach House at HOB

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Beach House performs at House of Blues.
Photo: Spencer Burton
Jason Harris

Three and a half stars

Beach House at House of Blues, August 24.

I ran into a friend before Beach House started its set Wednesday night at the House of Blues. We've seen a decent amount of shows together.

No hello. No how are you. He starts with, "Are you writing about them?" I say yes. He responds, "Are you going to be nice this time?"

I’m not sure what he’s referring to, but he reminds me of the last time I covered a Beach House show in the same venue three years ago. "You said they were boring." Without looking back on that piece of writing, I believe I spoke highly of their musical prowess but critiqued their lack of interaction with the crowd.

Boring, though? Perhaps I've matured. Perhaps I've mellowed. Perhaps life has beaten me down to the point where I'm able to appreciate more diverse things. While Beach House still barely connects with their paying fans on a conversational level, one thing they are not is boring.

It starts with Victoria Legrand, whose voice is so stunning, it's easy to get lost in whatever thoughts are dancing in your brain while she sings. Walking onstage wearing what appears to be the robe of a prize-fighter, the hooded Legrand shows off her championship pipes early in the set on "Wild," with the knockout coming from the final reprise of the line "go on pretending" to which she powerfully holds on.

I think about how about how there is perhaps nothing more painful than loving someone you know you can't trust.

The dream-pop sound matches the dreamscape set—lights that mimic stars appear as the Baltimore duo launches into "PPP.” The lush background works to accentuate Alex Scally's fearless guitar work.

The set, while minimal, has lots of bells and whistles. Giant transparent white cloths are designed as rectangular 3D boxes with different colors and patterns bouncing in and out of them. On the appropriately titled "Space Song,” falling water flows through the white spaces as the keyboards fills whatever is left empty.

I wonder if I will ever do anything great in my life again.

I get it now. Beach House puts on less a concert and more a piece of performance art. Sound and imagery work to create an emotional foundation on which you can soar. Or crumble. Or both.

The crowd sings along as Legrand effortlessly cuts her way through "Take Care.” "I'd take care of you if you’d ask me to." I stand next a woman I've had a crush on since the moment I met her years ago. She's the type of girl you look forward to telling she's beautiful. She has to know I feel that way, right?

"Irene" closes the show in epic fashion, with Legrand and Scally taking a measured pace and building it into a musical catharsis. I'm left with more questions than answers. At least my friend can't complain about me being mean to Beach House anymore.

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