Beach House - Mandela Hall, Belfast
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Beach House, Holy Other
Mandela Hall, Belfast
Friday, 26th October 2012
Two years on from playing to a loved-up few on Valentine鈥檚 day in the decidedly more intimate Speakeasy upstairs, Baltimore dream-pop duo return to QUBSU tonight one of the most dotingly approved darlings of the indie pop press. With two significantly more 鈥渟afe鈥 (yet no less intoxicating) albums and an ever-growing wave of aficionados on their side, how convincingly their surreptitious sound translates in the 900-strong capacity Mandela Hall remains to be seen.
With anonymous electronic producer having skilfully wielded his dubstep-inflected ambience via a set that鈥檚 oddly a little lost on tonight鈥檚 audience, Beach House saunter out into darkness and the retro sounds of 鈥楥rockett鈥檚 Theme鈥 by Jam Hammer tonight to measured applause. Starting straight into recent single 鈥榃ild鈥 without introduction, a white light positioned behind frontwoman Victoria Legrande immediately instils a sense of refined enigma; guitarist Alex Scally letting loose before an epileptic-obliterating barrage of lights precedes the seductive, harpsichord-driven 鈥榃alk In The Park'.
With Legrande indolently muttering a customary 鈥渢hanks for being with us tonight鈥, a member of the audience 鈥 as befits certain concert-based customs 鈥 shouts 鈥淔reebird!鈥 As anticipated, Beach House readily dismiss it by way of the sumptuous ethereality of 鈥楴orway鈥, an early highlight marked by Scally鈥檚 soaring guitar arpeggios and Legrande鈥檚 seductive hand movements throughout. Regrettably, however, what would normally transmute as good-natured banter between artist and audience, Scally鈥檚 saying, 鈥淭hat鈥檚 a song about Sweden, in case you were wondering鈥 feels much more like a reflection of Beach House鈥檚 impersonal and increasingly petulant air tonight.
Admittedly though, a brief panoramic glance at tonight鈥檚 crowd reveals a largely dead-eyed, static mass. Whether this is a direct result of Beach House鈥檚 鈥渧ibes鈥 or the simple fact much of the crowd aren鈥檛 actually familiar with the material is neither here nor there. It鈥檚 a kind of symbiotic awkwardness: the crowd give little away and Beach House continue to refrain from the kind of genial banter you can鈥檛 help but naturally expect. With the smouldering, melancholic 鈥楪ila鈥 proving a peak tonight 鈥 the band bathed in deathly red light 鈥 the considerably more buoyant 鈥極ther People鈥 follows; the kind of digestible optimism that鈥檚 best followed by tonight鈥檚 first truly 鈥渦pbeat鈥 song, 鈥楻eal Love鈥.
Shortly afterwards, with the request for 鈥楩reebird鈥 continuing, Legrande remarks, "I think you're at the wrong concert lady" before finally 鈥 only half-jokingly 鈥 playing the first few chords of the Lynard Skynard song. Sadly, however, the seeds have been sown: despite the fact the music never suffers as a result and practically every song receives nigh on rapturous applause, what could have been a hugely enjoyable experience is reduced to a sort of extended collective uncertainty that鈥檚 only exacerbated by a reluctant one-song encore of the otherwise superb 鈥10 Mile Stereo鈥. Both visually and sonically, tonight鈥檚 show cannot possibly be faulted. It鈥檚 just a shame that Beach House couldn鈥檛 meet their crowd halfway; a crowd that leave visibly hard done-by by a band who may have changed in more ways than one.
Brian Coney
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Comment number 1.
At 31st Oct 2012, o2856403 wrote:Nice Great!!!!!!!
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