Beach House

To their credit, there's nothing about Beach House's laconic debut that sounds strained; the LP is just track after track of sleepy synth wash, reverb-wet guitar noodling and hazy pop melodies. No wonder Victoria Legrand's alto, which sounds as if its coming from the bottom of a dark and lonely well, brings comparisons to Nico; both singers' subdued detachment can be heart-melting.

The debut from this Baltimore boy-girl duo is all narcotic dreaminess, with enough
keyboard drones, sideways effects and well-modulated eeriness to suggest a more
ramshackle Slowdive or the Fiery Furnaces on codeine. Stoners of a certain indie-rock
disposition might love atmospheric downers like "Childhood," but finding the best bits in
these sleepy songs often feels like hard work.