Beach House simply exudes dreaminess unlike any other group. 2010’s “Teen Dream” was filled with mystical favorites such as “Norway” and “Bloom,” Beach House’s fourth album, is no exception. “Myth” opens the album much in the same way as “Zebra” previously did: repeating and entrancing guitar riffs, bringing movement and change to an otherwise quite simple song.

Perhaps that is the magic with Beach House: the duo has mastered a full and flowing sound without becoming an overwhelming nightmare. They are dream pop grown up, flawlessly allowing synth and keyboard to complement their music. Beach House has the unique ability to fill a room without volume, but with the mere seamlessness of the music.

In many ways, Beach House is the same band as they were in 2010: “Bloom” does better what “Teen Dream” already did quite well. The pleading epic “Wild” is reminiscent to “Norway,” but does not appeal to pop catchiness as much as it does to elegance. Victoria Legrand’s vocals are not merely low, but deep and mature, like a displaced soul singer. In “Other People” Alex Scally’s backup vocals stretch higher than his Legrand’s without sounding awkward and maintaining their norm of female dominated vocals.

It is safe to say that Beach House is now an indie pop mainstay: two critically acclaimed albums and a near perfected sound within their genre. I caught the duo at this year’s Pitchfork Music Festival and was rapt within their sound and the flood of white lights and fog on stage. Both “Bloom” and their live show was exactly what I expected from Beach House and exactly what I wanted: sorrowful beauty within a framework of dreamy indie pop.
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