That’s what makes TYLS a valuable contribution to Beach House’s discography, not just an also-ran: It finds a way to marry the dramatic backdrops of their last three records with the more straightforward, to-the-point nature of their beginnings. In hindsight, though, it seems so obvious that they were talking about this record, because it so distinctly connects to their roots. I wanted something, anything, to switch up the formula that they had perfected over the years. But when Depression Cherry arrived in the summer, I was disappointed that it ended up being more in line with Teen Dream and Bloom than they had made it out to be. But they do make good on a promise: When introducing Depression Cherry - before we even knew Thank Your Lucky Stars was on the horizon - Beach House said it hearkened back to an earlier sound, invoking the soft and comforting lo-fi touches of their self-titled debut and Devotion. So, of course, TYLS doesn’t sound much different from what we’ve come to expect from the Baltimore duo. But it’s not in the nature of the band - the whole project seems hermetically opposed to change.
We tend to crave forward motion in our art, but the duo pushes against that desire, sometimes frustratingly so. They’ve always bordered on becoming a caricature: There’s the same old Beach House metronome that’s in every song, ticking away like a clock toward irrelevancy. But jutting up against each other like this, it can also be interpreted as an inability to adapt. Over a longer period of time, their consistency and sameness is a comfort. Victoria Legrand and Alex Scally have always progressed in micro-shifts, and leaving so little distance between these records highlights that fact. It doesn’t help that a band so often accused of always sounding the same decided to put out two new albums in as many months. But this is the first time that one doesn’t feel so necessary. Beach House albums always seemed to arrive organically, right when they’re needed. Ever one for grand gestures in their songs, the band has largely eschewed them when it comes to their marketing. Beach House invited them, releasing such similar records so close to each other. These comparisons are inevitable, unfortunately. But, for right now, it’s impossible not to weigh Beach House’s two most recent albums against one another, down to their nine-track by nine-track structures: “Somewhere Tonight” doesn’t reach the elegiac, choral-assisted highs of “Days Of Candy” as a closer “Levitation” has more of a backbone than “Majorette” “One Thing” and “The Traveller” are stronger pivot points than their Depression Cherry counterparts.
Digging into TYLS requires a bit more parsing than usual: Is it a companion record? A B-sides collection? A surprise, even though they insist that it’s not? In a few years, separated from this context, I expect the record will solidly stand on its own. Most of that feeling probably has to do with the back-to-back release schedule. Evaluating and investing in it feels clinical in a way that the band never has before. For that reason, Thank Your Lucky Stars comes to us on completely different terms than any Beach House record so far.
There’s only so much of yourself that you can give over. But it’s hard to go to that well twice in such a short period of time. Up until this point, all of Beach House’s albums have inspired a deep, justified, and personal emotional response. And, as Caitlin so eloquently put in her review of Depression Cherry, that record represented loss, and the blood-red anger and pain that results from it. Devotion and Teen Dream will always remind me of the anxiety I felt as I made the leap from high school to college two years later, Bloom came about just as I was feeling restless and wondering what to do next. Because of that nature, they become intrinsically tied to moments in your own life. They come along every two years or three, claims for your unwanted baggage. They’re sweeping, broad swaths of emotion for the listener to project their feelings onto. So far, all of Beach House’s albums have required you to give up a part of yourself to fully appreciate them.
0 kommentar(er)
