BEACH HOUSE - BLOOM

Following 'Teen Dream', the third album from Baltimore’s Beach House, was always going to be difficult. It would be in most people’s top five albums of 2010; the languorous swirling synths of 'Zebra', 'Walk in the Park' and '10-mile Stereo' already initiate a reinforced nostalgia for that hazy halcyon summer. It catapulted Alex Scally and Victoria Legrand into the indie mainstream after the initial smatterings of success for their self-titled debut in 2006, and sophomore, 'Devotion' (2008). Alongside Grizzly Bear and Animal Collective it also helped to cement the duo as one of the most important bands to come out of the US in recent years. Yet two years on their fourth studio album, 'Bloom', doesn’t disappoint. In fact it’s better.

Largely created whilst touring, Bloom features all the trademarks you’d expect from a Beach House record; meticulously crafted dream-pop songs with catchy, achingly tender melodies and lo-fi beats all combining alongside Lagrand’s sonorously yearning vocals.

The album starts where Teen Dream left off. First track, 'Myth', meanders indolently along, like the sanguine flow of a burgeoning river on a blossoming spring day. Led by the searching slide of Scally’s guitar and pulsing piano rhythm the song cautiously builds to a crescendo, where Legrand’s entrancing purr effortlessly dominates proceedings. Lazuli saunters by, sounding slightly like Enya, with Legrand’s “Huh huh huh” reverberating through the arpeggiated piano, whilst 'Troublemaker'’s haunting circus melodies are tinged with menace, leaving the listener restive.

It’s the combination of Legrand’s seductive vocals with the droning synths that helps to create the ethereal, dreamlike qualities Beach House has become so synonymous for. This is no more apparent than on 'Wishes', a song where Legrand’s almost lachrymose, doleful voice contrasts sumptuously with the yearning of the organ; pangs of regret and sorrow echo through Legrand’s descant – one of the most vulnerable, strong and understated voices in music – leaving the listener with an ungraspable sense of longing. It’s Beach House at their sepia-tinted best.

What makes Bloom better than its predecessor is the way it grows, even flourishes; it entices the listener in with the minimal beats of the opening tracks and gradually, subtly blossoms into a verdant, full-bodied piece of work. It’s not a surprise that the best songs are towards the end of the album. The wistful waltz of 'On the Sea', where shivering guitars clash with mournful piano, and the resplendent release of Irene culminating in a cacophony of sonic guitars and synths demand that it is listened to as a whole LP and not singular songs. Put simply, it’s one of the best albums of 2012.

9/10