Beachouse

Bachelorette

the granada, lawrence. ks

tuesday.april 6. 2010

I’m driving a modest, but necessary 35 mph, in a borrowed car, westbound on I-10, directly into the heart of a wickedly torrential spring downpour, while eerie bursts of lightening flash and briefly bathe the surrounding Kansas plains in white light.  I wonder if it is worth it. I imagine myself being one of the unfortunate forty four annual victims of death via lightening strike.  And while I’m in my casket (which would be closed) my family, with warm tears streaming down their faces, choke out the words: “She was just going to see a show.” Tragic. Yet I carry on, hands two and ten, white knuckled and gripping the wheel. In case you haven’t figured it out yet, I am a fatalist and slightly dramatic. So it’s fitting that I would imagine my eminent death.  While it is true that I keep a ruinous imagination, one should also note that I am a romantic as well as a visionary. Therefore, I also picture myself arriving to my final destination, The Granada, in Lawrence, KS, with a spring in my step. I am dry, and un-charred, with color gradually returning to my near dead face, and a spring in my step. Instead of floating in a casket, I am now floating in a hazy, distant dream world, where nothing is clear but everything makes sense via the melodious strains of Beachouse .

Luckily, for me, the former never occurred, but the latter did..and this is how:

 Opening for Beachouse, is a demure, cherub-faced Kiwi, Annabel Alpers, who
performs under the name Bachelorette.  Her music sets the stage and is delightfully droning at times, while maintaining a subtle intensity that is paired with layers upon layers of sound. Bachelorette sings live and loops her voice through a Sony Vaio she has on stage. The large screen behind her projects bright landscapes and pulsating lines.  She lures in the respectful crowd with a song, Dream Sequence, which speaks of a disorderly maze, darkened corridors, and narrow pathways in her brain, while warbley electronic tones accent a heavy beat that I can feel hitting me right in the center of my chest. Songs like, Rotating Head, with it’s papery percussion, synth, and repetitive beats provide a perfect backdrop for stoney, fluid dance movements. In between songs, Bachelorette takes small sips of Yagermeister out of a plastic cup but stays composed and unsloppy in a black dress that boasts a giant bow just below the neck…she remains solid and tranquil, slightly understated, with specks of shrouded mystery, just like her music.  However, I would still like to see her somewhat unproper…her music certainly has the potential. I guess I will have to wait until the next time she graces Lawrence.

The stage is now dark and foggy, and is accented by multiple loopy, dangling streamers composed of crinkly crepe. It’s as if the backdrop was lifted from a milky Polaroid taken decades ago on a once thriving beach boardwalk. The color palette is reminiscent of melted sherbet ice cream. The set also includes large diamond shaped forms on rotating stands, covered in folded metallic material, adding to the ethereal feel. A slim Alex Scully, mustachioed, and sporting dark hair that contains more volume than an amp turned up to eleven, emerges on stage. He is joined by the other half of Beachouse, Victoria Legrand, who exudes a memorizing presence, even in the dark, and who possesses an incredible skill of making 80’s power blazers look hot.  The opening chords to Walk In The Park break the silence, and the dream begins. Legrand’s passionate and curious gestures (such as covering her face and eyes when singing) make her impossible to dismiss. Her commanding and intoxicating voice is an impressive and captivating instrument. Her seamless and sliding vocals perfectly match the fluid slides of Alex’s guitar work on songs like “Silver Soul,” which she dedicates to “all the ladies in the house.” When she sings the words “it’s happening again” she grips her side, her arm, and her chest. 
Later, I watch Alex, who seems like the ultimate chiller, as he contentedly plucks his guitar and I realize that all of the pure, angelic backing vocals are coming from him, something I failed to noticed until seeing them live for the third time. A few songs into the set, he asks the crowd, “Is everyone feeling romantic?” and they dive into their standout song on Teen Dream, “Used To Be.” Legrand coos “don’t forget the nights when it all felt right”…I’m standing alone and I can’t help but feel romantic or at the very least, sentimental. After a number of solid songs are performed, mostly from Teen Dream, along with “Master of None” from their 2006 eponymous release, I have fallen under the magical Beachouse spell. But all good things must come to an end, (such as my life that was nearly snuffed out an hour prior) and Legrand lifts the spell she has cast and addresses the crowd: “You’ve been very fun. We’ve managed to exchange something with you. You’re our first time.” And Alex chimes in “Lawrence virginity!” The fey pair closes the set with “Take Care,” and they do indeed take care of the crowd, because they come back for an encore. Victoria flashes the “I love you” sign to the crowd and treats us to “Real Love”.  “You rocked our world. This is our goodnight song to you” and closes the night with “Ten Mile Stereo”.

The rain has stopped and Beachouse has made its mark on Lawrence, Kansas and on me. I drive home, turning the wheel, to which way I feel, my stereo on, still suspended in the sticky residue of a Teen Dream (and amazingly I have not been struck by lightening). 

VIVIAN GIRLS REVIEW

sunday. march 14. 2010.

the jackpot. lawrence, ks.

I don’t know what my expectations were for seeing Vivian Girls live.  Like a lot of other bands that are floating around right now, the sound is lo-fi and skuzzy, and a little bit shouty, but the ladies have the charming novelty of being real girls and playing actual instruments. They’re a legit group with a growing catalogue and a growing fan base. While on stage, they can request a beer from their fellow touring mates, Male Bonding, and get one literally within seconds (granted I think there were a few sips taken out of it, and it might have been a minute or two old, but still)! Maybe I’m just easily impressed, or easily fooled. I don’t really know. I had seen Vimeo videos of them doing their own laundry and comfortably chatting with an awkward interviewer, and it seemed they were normal, down to earth girls who could throw around some chords and who had a penchant for singing off key. I was interested to see how they came off live and wondered if I would catch the vibe they were throwing out.

Guitarist and lead singer, Cassie Ramone, (who to me, bears a slight resemblance to a certain Scarlett Johansson) dons the stage with a pair of baggy eyes, and a pair of sweet pursed lips. Her right arm, minute in circumference, is tattooed with a cheeseburger and a cassette tape. She begins with monotone vocals and comfortably strums her guitar, which cranks out a sound that is both sharp and fuzzy. Ali Koehler looking smart and sassy in her glasses chimes in on drums, and Kickball Katy kicks in on bass, long legs, leather jacket and all.

The girls sound like haunting out of tune angels or ghosts singing in a haze and sun-drenched garage that still manages to possess a lot of dark corners. The songs are not musically complex and there are a lot of “la la las” but there is a type of sweetness in the simplicity and dissonance of the whole performance.  For the first few songs, everyone, including the Vivian Girls played it cool. But soon after, the girls offer a few words to the crowd: “You guys should dance.” And dance, they did, to “I Can’t Get Over You” from their sophomore release, Everything Goes Wrong. The drunk and/or excited girl, who offered her couch to Cassie Ramone earlier in the night, is on her hands and knees thrashing her head back and forth. The sturdy youth in front of me, who smells like basement, is dancing/rocking back and forth steadily and enthusiastically (but then again he has been all night).

I find myself leaving before the set is over. I have seen what Vivan Girls have to offer, and my curiosity as well as my eardrums is satisfied. Tomorrow, the girls will go on to another highway, another club and another fan’s couch. Just like I will get into my car, hit another club and another show, but not before the fuzzy vocals and “la la las” that haunt my head have left.