Bloom is a gushing collection of top tier songs that have been carefully knitted together for maximum impact, and is absolutely gorgeous and stunning.
"Bloom" is also what these 10 songs do, each one starting with the sizzle of a lit fuse and at some fine moment exploding like a firework in slow motion.
Every movement on Bloom extends that high silence to the length of several minutes, building within the song and into the next track to send wave after wave of eyes-closing, head-tilting, fist-clenching pinpricks.
The aching sweetness of Bloom’s ten tracks should override any misgivings one might have about the band’s seeming lack of stylistic evolution.
Though the pair would prefer you focus on their songwriting – and Legrand’s lyrics are beautiful – it is the overwhelming aesthetic that defines this band. Bloom is beautiful.
Its production value is higher, each song’s many layers are audible, and the synths sound expensive. Fortunately, the band is able to match each dollar spent on Bloom’s production with solid raw material.
Beach House are equipped to leave the nods to shoegaze behind and embrace a far more holistic aesthetic – pop music.
Despite the album title, the duo picks right up where it left off on 2010's Teen Dream.
It’s an album that’s sure to satisfy long-time fans while undoubtedly garnering the band even more media buzz.
It's not the band's most immediate music, but the album's challenging mix of heartbroken words and aloof sounds rewards patient and repeated listening.
The impact of Bloom lingers long after Scally’s last guitar moan and Legrand’s last breathy sigh, making you want to cue it up all over again and wallow anew in Beach House’s existential abyss.
Like every Beach House album, you’re best suited to bask in the abstraction that results from the usual mesh of signatory warm synths and fidgety guitar lines, rather than attempting to latch on to a lyric or a snippet of solitary sonic genius.
Each song is part of an overarching mood whilst carving its own identity further with each listen. This mood is one of a lucid dream, one that ensnares the listener in its own creation.
The musical partners (they’re not a couple) have chosen not to try to top what they achieved with Teen Dream on the new Bloom but rather to subsume their poppy tendencies beneath a unifying aural glaze.
This burgeoning, slow-burner, fails to match the empyreal heights of their last album, Teen Dream ... Don’t misunderstand me, Bloom is still one of the best LPs you’re going to hear in 2012, if not beyond, it’s just missing a certain something.
For all their undoubted accomplishment, Beach House seem to have reached their limits as a two-piece, or worse still, have simply finishing running their creative gamut altogether.
There’s also pleasure in hearing a band do what they do so peerlessly well: croon sweet, sweet lullabies to console us in our fleshy prisons.
The melodies, guitarscapes and thrift-shop organ swells make for exquisite comfort.
‘Bloom’ oozes simplicity, honesty and contentness. It will be a welcome sound of summer for ‘Teen Dream’ fans, but don’t expect anything too radical.
Beach House haven't bothered re-inventing the wheel, because it keeps on spinning just fine.
The high points are as good as anything they’ve ever done, though the hooky hooks and subtle gut-punches of these are couched in surroundings that teeter on the generic and the self-derivative.
The only thing that actually elevates Bloom from the linearity of its reverb-caked narcosis is the effort of vocalist Victoria Legrand, whose husky, melancholic voice provides a weighty counterpunch to the album's papery songs.
Bloom’s lack of memorable moments is frustrating, because few bands are able to craft such achingly beautiful music.
Bloom, unfortunately, becomes less interesting with the more attention you pay to it, largely because there is not much to set it apart from its predecessors.
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