Profiles

Victoria Legrand of Beach House on how perfection is made up of many mistakes

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Westword: On Devotion you covered Daniel Johnston's "Some Things Last a Long Time." How did you learn about him and his music?

Victoria Legrand: Just being a music fan or nerd or whatever. I think probably, subconsciously, it was probably through Nirvana or something like that. But really it was word of mouth. I think Alex knew about him before I did in his life. You just like people and that song is just something we wanted to cover. We haven't done a cover song in a long time and I think it's because it has to be [special]. You can't do too many of them.

What was it about his music that resonates with you?

At the time, I think it was the melody and the words. It's so simple, but then it also has such vast potential. I think that was the crux of why we felt like we wanted to cover it because we thought we could rearrange it slightly and make it something different. I think that's all you really think when you love a song.

Last year Portishead picked you to play All Tomorrow's Parties with them. Did they ever tell you why they picked you?

No. I never got a chance to meet any of them or talk to them at all. I never knew why we were asked either, which would have been kind of interesting to know. But I did watch them, and they were great live. It was really perfect. It was literally like listening to the CD like when I was fourteen years old. I was kind of amazed at how perfect [Beth Gibbons'] vocals were considering all the turmoil they've had within the band or whatever.

I don't have any private details. But I was shocked to know that her voice...it was immaculate. Like no time had passed. She lives in another town than the [rest of the band]. I think she has a completely separate life. But when she was performing with them it sounded like they had practiced every single day for fifteen years.

Maybe this is the projection of imagination, but the liner notes for Bloom look like typewritten pages found in an abandoned building or something.

They were my typewritten pages. My typewritin'.

Obviously that look was your idea because you typed it. What about that particular look appealed to you in using it for the liner notes?

I'd been doing that in the writing process. I had re-acquired a typewriter and had one a long time, and I wanted it in my life. I thought of that instead of typing on a computer, which I haven't really done except for typing on a phone, I guess, because I don't sit in front of a typewriter ever in my life. I have journals and notebooks all over the place. I have too many, probably, of each one of them. It's very important for me to see the process and the words as I'm working and stuff.

I realized that I do believe in the power of the word. The word as an object, the word has a weight that it can have. It just makes sense to have these physical things. I would make multiple versions of each page and it just started being apparent that the pages, in their errors and in their imperfections and the fact that you can't have a perfect line on an old typewriter and all of that, are honest and exactly the way it happened. I would take certain ones to show the progression of ideas and that's what's in the art. It's very basic.

I think that perfection is made up of many mistakes. Like a perfect love. What is that? It could be the most turbulent love of your life that has caused you to be drunk every night, but in some way, it was a perfect love. That's sort of what I see when I look at a page, and it has all those kinds of things all over it. I see truth. Someone might say, "I see that you're obscuring the lyrics." I would say, "Well, that's what actually happened." The missing letter, that is truth and not me trying to prevent you from seeing what I did. It's just the truth.

In that way you're getting the whole picture and not just a polished, edited expression.

Yeah, you're getting the whole picture and not smoke and mirrors.

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Tom Murphy is a writer, visual artist and musician from Aurora, Colorado. He was a prolific music writer for Westword and a documenter of the Denver music scene.