BY ZACHARY HERRMANN

Whether by coincidence or not, Beach House's latest LP, Teen Dream links itself to Brian Wilson's old quest (circa SMiLE, Take 1) to create "teenage symphonies to God". Suggesting such a link might be overstating the religious elements of both Beach House and The Beach Boys a bit, although it is interesting to note how many of the songs on the former's 2^nd album, Devotion, do contain the word "holy".

Save that conversation for another day.  

The connection between the two, besides the profound musical influence Wilson has had on Beach House's Victoria Legrand and Alex Scally lies in the shared belief that pop music (especially that which is aimed at the pre-drinking age crowd) can be something greater than easy-digestible, disposable entertainment.    

In the age of the $0.99 iTunes download, Beach House still believes in the power of the album. Each of the duo's LPs has built upon the predecessor, always with respect to that which came before it.

(Other bands please take note: This is how you build a career, rather than planning for a Greatest Hits set.)

It'd be dismissive to call their songs "atmospheric", but Legrand and Scally know how to dress a set, so to speak, fill the frame with characters, and then deliver the whole production into whatever the stereo equivalent of Cinerama would be. They have built a universe of Beach House songs, linked by themes and shared melodies. The songs and the albums vary, but it is very much the same world.

All that from a couple of keyboards, a guitar a drum machine, and now, organic percussion as well - in short, a very tall order to reproduce in any live venue with only three members (including touring drummer Daniel Franz).   

Damn do they ever make it work though, thanks in large part, to Legrand, a woman of few words but many Metal-head thrashes. Looking a bit like a grown up version of Wednesday Adams, dressed in fishnet stockings and a white blazer, Legrand's ethereal presence (and physical appearance) only added to the mystery contained in that deep-bodied voice.

Belting out "Heart of Chambers", the best of the band's slow-burners, that voice certainly secured itself a place in more than a few of the future teen dreams belonging to the 18-and-up crowd. From the opening notes of "Walk in the Park", she had the crowd eating out of the palm of her hand. Even the funkier (that's a completely relative term here) numbers, "Master of None" and "Silver Soul" prompted little more than head nodding with a few reported cases of swaying.

Legrand (quiet, but absolutely commanding) completely overshadows her partner in crime, Scally, which is both unfair and only natural. The organs and keyboards were the founding principles on which the House of Beach was built, but it's Scally's deceptively simple guitar work, often in the background, holding everything together.

Since the band's self-titled studio debut (the sentimental favorite for this writer), Scally's guitar has played a much more significant part in shaping the songs, and the dynamic is probably for the best in a cavernous place like Webster Hall. On "Zebra", "Gila" or even "Used to Be", some of Scally's finest moments of the night, the guitarist seemed perfectly capable of filling a space twice as large.

When the guitars were sparser on "Astronaut" or the unveiled new track "White Moon", Scally acted the reciprocal to Legrand's jewel box lullabies. Introducing the latter as a song that "basically doesn't even exist", Legrand delved into what could have easily come from The Mamas and the Papas, or one of the other 1960s masters of all-things-precious-and-hummable. Thank the guitars for always keeping things from getting too precious, always a threat when your weapons of choice are keyboards and organs.

If any criticism could be levied at the band, the encore came after the band's peak, "Take Care", the heartiest of Beach House's bittersweet anthems.

Disco ball swirling, lights reflecting off the turquoise and magenta piñatas (told you they know how to dress a set), there was a high-school prom sort of feel to the whole number. Not in the realistic sense of what proms are really like (the lame breather in a night of debauchery), but the adolescent myth of these sorts of things, and the emotions connected to these memories that, for much of the audience, could have been yesterday.

It's hard to say how and why exactly Beach House taps into this realm of shared American experiences (Legrand was born in France), other than Beach House understands what it is to be young, what it's like to hold the frightening and selfish notion that you (and sometimes, one other person) are the only person(s) in the world.

Teen Dreams sounds, thankfully, far less pretentious than "teenage symphonies to God" or any lengthier description I may have just slapped on it. Call Beach House's music whatever the hell you want - it's immensely inspiring stuff.

Set list:

1)   Walk in the Park

2)   Lover of Mine

3)   Gila

4)   Better Times

5)   Norway

6)   Silver Soul

7)   Master of None

8)   Astronaut

9)   White Moon (new song, debut)

10)                  Used to Be

11)                   Zebra

12)                  Heart of Chambers

13)                  Take Care

Encore:

14)                   Real Love

15)                  10 Mile Stereo