Beach House + Bachelorette

In a recent SXSW wrap-up in The New York Times, critic Jon Pareles takes aim at the blog phenomenon known as glo-fi, dismissing the “annoyingly noncommittal” microtrend for its dogged reliance on wan, reverb-drenched vocals and cheap, “dinky” gear. On paper, Beach House fits the mold, but despite the relaxed economy of its moody dispatches for Carpark Records (also home to current chill-wave darling Toro y Moi), the Baltimore twosome easily transcends hipster jargon.

Across the duo’s first two albums, Victoria Legrand’s smoky tenor was indeed smothered in delay, her organ humming above Alex Scally’s glistening guitar and the robotic chirp of a primitive drum machine. The aesthetic was so consistent that most fans figured they knew what album three would sound like. They were wrong.

Legrand and Scally aren’t exactly throwing fans a curveball with their new Sub Pop debut, Teen Dream, but the makeshift psychedelics have been replaced with an expanded palette of bright sounds, offering hope where before there was little beyond resigned melancholy. The unbridled optimism kicks off with album opener “Zebra” and doesn’t let up through the lush, husky piano ballad “Real Love.”

Bachelorette, the alias of New Zealand’s Annabel Alpers, shares a penchant for sparse songwriting, clearly harboring reverence for bygone ’80s icons. As her name suggests, she works solo live, but her fascination with electronics and technology comes off as more obsessive than introverted. Nods to new wave and techno abound on her Drag City debut, My Electric Family, but you’ll also encounter a folksy shuffle and brassy waltz. It’s pop candy without the corn-syrup coating—and even an ornery old hand like Pareles can get behind that.

• More Music articles