Best Coast frontwoman Bethany Cosentino and co. graced the Royale on Wednesday night with their dreamy California surf pop, alongside openers Those Darlins and DIIV, plunging the Boston nightclub into a hazy wave of melancholic sand and surf in support of their new LP, The Only Place.
The lazy beach vibe pervaded the crowd, who swayed back and forth to fuzzed-out power chords as though drifting out with the tide. In fact, Royale Nightclub in Boston seemed an almost comically unfit setting for Cosentino’s music, a fact of which we were reminded as colorful graphics of a bear hugging a roadmap of California flashed across the screen behind the band.
As Cosentino’s wonderfully nasally voice drifted through west coast ode “The Only Place,” drawling, “Yeah leave the cold behind / We’re gonna make it to the beach on time / Why would you live anywhere else?,” this born-and-bred East Coaster found herself mildly convinced for a moment, immersed in the simple indulgence of the band’s sound.
Clearly, Cosentino’s ability to evoke a specific feeling with her music translated well in a live setting. Her sound is bottled and branded nostalgic California dream pop, that and nothing more. Cosentino seemed acutely aware of her music’s simple function on Wednesday night: there were no sweeping guitar solos or deviations from the setlist. In fact, the only stage banter Cosentino attempted was “Sorry, guys, I ate way too much California Pizza Kitchen and now I feel like shit.” It certainly did seem like she felt like shit as she powered through most of her set without cracking a smile. But perhaps this aesthetic lends itself to her musical style: her moody lyrics about boy troubles drenched in sun and reverb-heavy Telecaster do seem to conjure images of a bikini-clad teenager sullenly strumming a guitar.
It seems that from acts like Best Coast, we don’t expect a dynamic sound or a culturally groundbreaking style—we ask for the Bethany Cosentino brand, sung to us just the way we like it. The same goes for the band’s live shows—it’s everything you would expect and not a bit more. And there’s a lazy comfort in that.
As bubbles (yes, someone thought to bring bubble mix to the show) drifted across the crowd during “Dreaming My Life Away,” I didn’t try to analyze Cosentino’s guitar style or take note of the crowd around me or think about how early I had to wake up the next morning. I didn’t think of anything at all, and instead allowed myself to be driven to the beach, with Cosentino holding the roadmap before me.