Beach House, HMV Ritz, 31st October 2012 7/10

Manchester producer Holy Other is renowned for his anonymity: until early this year, he performed with a shroud over his head, and as if craving obscurity, chose Myspace as his social media presence. Tonight, the unnamed artist was in shadow throughout the performance, and made no overt attempt to engage the audience. Electronic music doesn't always translate easily into a live setting, and the volume of chatter in the ballroom at the The Ritz suggested that not everyone’s attention had been seized. Yet, his sepulchral sound with ghostly vocals, slow pace and solemn mood was so apt for Halloween. I closed my eyes, and let the music take hold of my imagination, aided by its repetition, my body vibrating to the subterranean bass. I love Drowned in Sound’s description of the title track from his recent début album Held:  'it has the eerie feel of a late night journey in an empty train carriage'.

Baltimore’s Beach House is regarded with such reverence in indie circles that I was eager to experience them live, and I've had to wait, since last year's Manchester gig was thwarted by cancellation. Their two latest albums, 2010’s Team Dream and 2012’s Bloom, are dream pop classics. In one important respect they translated perfectly to a live setting: the sound was remarkably almost identical to their studio work, the musicianship almost flawless. Each song had a similar combination of Victoria Legrand’s dramatic, breathy yet rich contralto vocals, with Alex Scally’s layered arpeggios on keyboard and guitar. They were accompanied by a live drummer, whose precision emulated their customary drum machine. It was created to perfection, to the extent that I questioned what seeing them live added. Where was the spontaneity, and in what way was the show influenced by the audience?

They spent much of the time in the dark, Victoria hiding behind her keyboard at the back of the stage, shrouded in dry ice behind a microphone, covered by her long curly hair. Yet, their show is a carefully planned work of art, and the aesthetics were impeccably designed by Alex. The warehouse style set, with industrial fans behind wooden slats was beautifully lit with strobes. They didn't really attempt between set banter, although Victoria kindly remarked that the vibe from the audience was warm and friendly. We stood there, feeling the music, soaking in the atmosphere, swaying gently. Highlights of the 80 minute set included Myth from Bloom, and Norway and Zebra from Teen Dream, but it cohered into a single whole.

The key to understanding Beach House’s performance is as a celebration of introversion. Victoria and Alex were utterly absorbed in their own world, concentrating intensely, and their restraint should not be mistaken for a lack of passion. These are serious artists, thoughtful rather than demonstrative. Neither of them wandered around the stage, but Victoria moved freely within her boundaries, even head banging during instrumental interludes. The music itself also exists within strict self-imposed rules, forming and then dissipating, its power lying within tiny variations. This consistency makes for either a beautifully blended set, or soporific homogeneity, depending on your perspective. The audience became restless part way through the set, but the encores, 10 Mile Stereo and Irene showed a sense of flexibility and freedom I craved earlier.

The show had a similarly intellectually stimulating effect on me as a classical concert, but didn't excite me emotionally in the way that more extrovert live acts can. Yet, there’s no denying the music's beauty, which moved to tears a regular of the Manchester music scene stood close by. For me, the music swelled and rippled, never quite exploding into a climax.Yet, this restraint is exactly what Alex and Victoria intended: for better or worse, perfection.