Cult act keeps it real

IT SHOULD have been the high point of Victoria Legrand’s career.

Instead, it turned into the longest two months of the Beach House singer’s life.

“Supporting Vampire Weekend was a tremendous privilege but it’s definitely something we would never do again,” says the wispy vocalist with a barely repressed shudder. “It was a culture shock. We live in a completely different universe to a band like that.”

Not that Legrand and her Beach House partner Alex Scally found Vampire Weekend’s catchy indie pop in any way disagreeable. It was just that, having to perform their slow, sad music in front of screaming teenage audiences every night, their sanity started to ebb away. By the end of the tour, madness loomed.

“It was pretty insane,” she says. “I don’t ever see Beach House operating at that level. Nor would I care for doing that. To see and experience screaming teenage girls, like they were seeing The Beatles or something was a very weird place to be.”

She’s right – you are unlikely to see Beach House turning impressionable youngsters weak-kneed with enthusiasm any time soon. That’s not to say Scally and Legrand aren’t causing a splash in their own way however. Acclaimed by critics as one of the year’s finest releases, their ethereal third LP, Teen Dream has won the duo a huge cult fanbase and influential admirers in the form of Radiohead’s Thom Yorke and Strokes leader Julian Casablancas. They were even the subject of a slavering write-up in Vanity Fair magazine, squeezed surreally between profiles of Marilyn Monroe and Princess Diana. Such is their popularity, they have graduated from pokey clubs to proper concert venues, and will take in Dublin’s Vicar Street on their forthcoming tour.

“People are coming up to us and saying, hey, we think you can play these venues,” says Legrand, slightly dismissively. “So we’re doing Vicar Street and Shepherd’s Bush Empire in London, which is by far the largest room we’ve done there.”

Sometimes bands water down their sound as their audience expands, in order to appeal to as wide a demographic as possible. Beach House, though, are resolute this won’t happen to them.

“For us, it’s not about the size of the venue. We’ve played Whelan’s and had some awesome times there. What’s important is the experience. Size honestly doesn’t matter to us.”

Still, they have worked hard at capitalising on their burgeoning profile. In Dublin, Beach House will debut a dramatic new stage show, including a backdrop of eerie sci-fi pyramids resembling something out of 2001: A Space Odyssey. “We’ve brought them over from the US. Believe me, it wasn’t an easy thing to do. This is the third stage set-up of this year. We’ve played something like 140 shows since January. In order to keep it fresh for ourselves, and the audiences, it’s important that we do little things like this.”

The niece of storied French composer Michel Legrand, Victoria grew up in the American mid-west, and passed through a number of forgettable bands before making her way to Baltimore, Maryland where she hooked up with local artist Scally. Forming Beach House they enjoyed underground success with their first two LPs, eventually coming to the attention of famous label Sub-Pop, which put out Teen Dream.

“People think that signing with Sub-Pop transformed things for us,” says Legrand. “The truth is very different. We’ve worked damn hard and what success we’ve had has come gradually, and mostly through touring. A label like Sub-Pop, which is a great American institution, they sign bands who have worked really hard at cultivating a following. Going to Sub-Pop didn’t make life easier for us. If anything we’re working harder than ever now.”

Indeed, for all its popularity, Legrand is under few illusions that Teen Dream is little more than a calling card for the Beach House live experience.

“Unless you are insanely lucky, albums don’t make you any more. The only recent exception I can think of is Fleet Foxes, who had a record that did insanely well in the UK. That doesn’t happen in general. For most groups it’s all about touring, and even that barely sustains you.”

Plagued by gang violence and poverty, Baltimore has earned a reputation as the murder capital of the United States. Serving as backdrop for ultra-gritty crime drama The Wire probably hasn’t helped its profile. Still, there’s another side to the city, Legrand points out. Double digit unemployment means rents are cheap, making the city a viable alternative for artists priced out of New York or Los Angeles, or even second-tier bohemian centres like Portland, Oregon and Philadelphia.

“In Baltimore, you have a lot of freedom because it’s a pretty cheap place to live. You can afford a huge rehearsal space whereas in Brooklyn you might have to do with a cramped apartment.

“There are parts of the city you shouldn’t go at night. You have areas like that in Washington, New York – any big city. The other side to Baltimore is that, artistically, it’s incredibly vibrant.”

Alongside a burgeoning independent rock circuit, Baltimore is also home to some of the most thrilling dance acts in the US, spearheaded by artists such as Spank Rock and Diplo. Such is the town’s reputation as a clubbing hot-bed, Irish act Republic of Loose recorded their latest album there, so they could sample the local nightlife. Is there any crossover between the two scenes?

“Baltimore isn’t that big a place. So all the musicians tend to be connected in these strange ways. You’ve had so many bands from Baltimore go out into the world and achieve things. And Baltimore club has become huge in Europe. It’s strange a small town is having such a big impact globally.”