Beach House
Bloom

I didn't like this "Bloom" at first. I had arrived late to discover Beach House, an indie band from Baltimore with a strong dream pop and almost exclusively retro flavor. My bassist had recommended them, and so I immediately delved into the funeral elegies of that gem Devotion and the crystalline pop of Teen Dream. I hadn't even had time to forget them for a while when their fourth work came out, which was hardly or not at all publicized and preceded by statements from Victoria LeGrand such as, "we have no intention of changing style or sounds from album to album; if you don't like our music, simply lend your ear elsewhere." Well.

The album opens with Myth and so far no surprise: old-school drum machines, dreamy keyboards, and guitar held in check until the arrival of the voice articulating a sly melody now familiarly familiar to us fans of the duo. But the more I delve into listening, the more something different and disturbing envelops me: the sound becomes dark and heavy, overlaid with 80s keyboards and Victoria's voice is rougher and lower than ever before. We are indeed far removed from the minimalism of the early days and the catchy melodies of the still commendable previous Teen Dream. Some malicious might argue that the duo is gearing up for the most base mainstream market by enriching the sound with such refined arrangements. In reality, this is only appearance: Beach House has made us believe they have only changed the style by making it danceable and dark at the same time, while maintaining the same usual catchy and perfect melodies, in reality, for the first time, the strong desire to experiment is hidden here.

The tracks are long and difficult, there is even room for a final suite of almost 17 minutes (Irene), and every song invents a different stratagem, always remaining anchored to the "Beach House" genre, now more than anything else a trademark. There is room for a vaudeville piano (On the sea), for an almost hard-rock pounding riff (The hours), for a Christmas symphony (Wishes), and even for a sweet parody of themselves (Lazuli).

From the sound of "Bloom" and the cover itself (a black cloth studded with white lights), it is perceived that Beach House is perhaps in a personally dark moment in their lives and consequently in transition and change, whether they like it or not, on the artistic side. This time, therefore, they demonstrate the fact that their beach house is not the background of a placid summer, but from its windows, nothing can be seen except a black sea black and stormy.