I saw Beach House live for the second time. They were louder than I remembered and I left the venue with a face fully melted and my liver in need of replacing. Teen Dream will always be my favorite album and it was kind of a bummer that they didn't play more of it. Minor complaint aside, I can only describe Beach House live as a spiritual experience. There is no other band that gives me the ghost. Coupled with the company of someone that I have missed immensely over the years, this was a nice summer send off — especially considering how hilariously tragic it began. I'm sure there could be some poignant way to end this post, but not without sounding too eat, pray, and love-esque. And that ain't me.
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