Review: Beach House @ Manchester Cathedral


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There’s something altogether audacious and inspired about staging a rock concert on hallowed ground. Few bands could hope to fill the vast, crooked spaces of a cathedral. The faintest whisper carries up to the rafters; songs refined in clubs and dance halls come out sounding like muddy white noise. It’s not a venue that suits everyone.

Supporting their highly acclaimed third album ‘Teen Dream‘ (some are calling it their ‘Dark Side of the Moon‘) Beach House are a band in a class of their own, and eminently suited to this venue. Tickets for this show (19/11/) sold out early on, and with good reason. Formed in 2004 by Baltimore residents Victoria Legrand (vocals, organ) and Alex Scally (guitar, keyboard), the duo have created a formidable back catalogue from humble beginnings, only now getting recognition for their efforts.

Beach House make what can be best described as walking-home-in-the-dark music; the songs are enigmatic, spiritual and boldly original. The closest thing to a comparison might be Scott Walker remaking ‘Pet Sounds‘ with a little gospel help from Washington Phillips.




They blast off proceedings with a sparkling rendition of ‘Gila’, fit to shatter stained glass, boasting a vast, buoyant sound with hints of dream logic and the grandeur to come. They’re energetic, primal, giving it all from the start and somehow speeding their momentum on and on through a set list lesser bands would kill to cover.

Manchester Cathedral’s haunting darkness provides exceptional atmosphere, with the venue’s gloriously gothic trappings affecting those on stage more than most. Legrand remarks “You’re a good looking crew, Manchester. I’ve been watching you…lurking in the shadows…” and we can well believe it, backlit by a trio of glowing pyramids as she swoops and dives her voice through ‘Norway’ like a possessed Kate Bush.

Legrand handles her audience well, maintaining an easy familiarity.  She’s charming and striking in the ethereal light, her ringleted tresses forming a suitably shamanistic silhouette, completely in command and loving it. This is the band’s fifth visit to Manchester, so they’re no strangers to the city’s music lovers and their quirks. Mancunians are notoriously picky about who they applaud, and it takes an act like Beach House to get them as excited as this in a house of worship.

The band seem pleasantly surprised at such a warm welcome, rewarding the hospitality with tightly-paced fan favourite ‘Zebra‘. On this song and on ‘Real Love’ in particular, Alex Scally’s guitar playing provokes an air of momentous pleasure wherever it appears, fluid and loose when it needs to be, then towering and crashing with terrific force like a tidal ebb and flow in the swell of the chorus.

Beach House will have no trouble shifting copies of ‘Teen Dream’ after a concert like this. Who can go home now without those panting, galloping sonic revelations stuck in their heads? Scally’s melodious, climactic solos take up residence in the frontal lobes, to say nothing of Legrand’s tender, angelic sneer of a voice. They made the Cathedral their’s for two hours, and still barely gave us a glimpse of the wonders yet to come.

(Simon Moore)




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