BEACH HOUSE @ Webster Hall 5/6/2010

Selling images of escape to those who need it least.

“Ever heard any songs of theirs?” — Girl waiting for a drink.

“I think so. Probably.  At least one or two.” — Her friend.

The sandy swirl on the cover of Teen Dream could be interpreted in one of two ways: A) This album is a vacation from one’s troubles. B) This album is a solitary walk on the beach to try and understand one’s troubles. Either way, the critically acclaimed record has earned (French-born) singer Victoria Legrand and her collaborator (Baltimore native) Alex Scally a minor, but well-deserved taste of fame. It was released two weeks after the death of French filmmaker Eric Rohmer, and the album might serve as a suitable memorial. The themes of love, vacation, and domestic longing feel as if they were plucked out of a scene from Pauline à la Plage. The crowd at Webster Hall on Thursday night (almost resembling the privileged and romantically confused characters from a Rohmer film) sometimes appeared lost in their interpretation of Beach House’s imagery, and tone: for an era still dominated by themes of irony, the most clever irony is too often misunderstood.

From the opening strums of “Walk in the Park” Webster Hall reeked of high-grade dormitory pot, and the lines at the bar never ceased.  One wouldn’t expect a melancholic break-up lyric like “that face that you saw in the door/isn’t looking at you anymore” (sung in Legrand’s gentle baritone) to inspire a scene resembling a more fashionable outtake from Van Wilder, but that’s essentially what went down. It’s not wrong. It’s just a sign of the times.

What makes Beach House special among new bands dumped into the “dream pop” sub-genre is their juxtaposition of stylized, atmospheric song-craft with Legrand’s emotionally vulnerable voice, and poignant lyrics. No longer satisfied to simply replicate the energy of artists like Cocteau Twins, or Brian Wilson, Beach House’s music has evolved into something genuinely urgent. The best example of that evolution is the album version of “Used to Be.” The newly revised track showcases Legrand’s talents as a songwriter. When she sang the tender refrain (“Coming home/Any day now”) it was difficult for even the most distracted listener in Webster Hall to ignore the emotion in her voice. It might be the best American pop-song about homesickness since Talking Head’s “This Must Be the Place (Naïve Melody)“.

It’s exciting to see a band like Beach House gain enough acclaim to sell out Webster Hall. The band members did not move from their respective places — the emphasis was on their music, played with confidence and skill. It’s discouraging, however, to hear Legrand thank ‘the real music listeners’ in the audience and receive only a smattering of apathetic applause. (A mention of hipster-friendly opening act Washed Out received a far louder response.) But when musicians become even minor celebrities in the hype-oriented Internet age, they should expect fans to be much more attracted to the idea of an exotic vacation, than the contemplative journey home.