A beach house isn't just real estate. It's a state of mind.
At the beach, life is different. Time doesn't move hour to hour but mood to moment. We live by the currents, plan by the tides, and follow the sun.
Mostly it is loss which teaches us about the worth of things.
I feel really comfortable playing to people who've never heard Beach House before. We've always had fun opening because you get to try to impress people.
When people say money doesn't matter, it sure as hell does when you're able to show your mother a beach house and then hand her the keys to it. That was one of the happiest moments of my life.
There's no there. That elusive 'there' with the job, the beach house, the dream, it's not out there. There is here. It's in you... right now.
It is not possible to rent a beach house within five hours' drive of one's hometown without being visited by people. This is especially true if I have actually invited them. One of my problems is that I like to be nicer than I actually am.
In one universe, they are gorgeous, straight-teethed, long-legged, wrapped in designer fashions, and given sports cars on their sixteenth birthdays. Teacher smile at them and grade them on the curve. They know the first names of the staff. They are the Pride of the Trojans. Oops – I mean Pride of the Blue Devils. In Universe #2, they throw parties wild enough to attract college students. They worship the stink of Eau de Jocque. They rent beach houses in Cancún during Spring Break and get group-rate abortions before prom.
I have always put my own money into Tails of Joy. For years, every time a dog walked by, my husband would say, 'There goes our beach house.'
I have heard stories that it was love at first sight for both of us, that we disappeared to a guest room at Merle's house, had our meals sent up, and didn't emerge for several days. This is absolutely untrue. I would never behave like that as a guest in someone's home. Carlos and I went to my beach house.
Somebody pointed out to me that there's no horror film on my resume, which is true, but I also don't really go see those movies. Although when I was thinking about it, I was thinking "I would probably have a really nice beach house if I made a horror movie." They seem to be very popular. I just don't think it's my thing.
I had big dreams when I was a boy. And I can't say that I never saw a beach house in Malibu in those dreams.
In fact, I was one of the few trusted people that Lucy allowed to play with their kids. I spent time at their summer home, rode horses at their ranch, and swam at their beach house. I even spent a Christmas with them at Palm Springs one year.
Once, she'd been a pro at decompressing, loved to sit on the back deck of the beach house in one of our splintery Adirondack chairs for hours at a time, staring at the ocean. She never had a book or the paper or anything else to distract her. Just the horizon, but it kept her attention, her gaze unwavering. Maybe it was the absence of thought that she loved about being out there, the world narrowing to just the pounding of the waves as the water moved in and out.
I won $100,000 in Vegas, which buys furniture for my beach house. That takes nerves. You can't think if I'm wrong I'll blow $30,000.
With us, people caught on to something on our third album, and that will never be repeated. Basically, I don't really have any complaints about the way that Beach House has grown. I feel like we're still in control of what we're doing, and it's a great time in our existence.
We learned this week that Mitt Romney is building a car elevator in his house. An elevator for your cars. I get the feeling this guy wants to be president so he has a place to live while he's remodeling his beach house. ... I'm not worried that this guy is out of touch. I'm worried he's Batman. I could see Mitt as Batman. He hears about a robbery, he changes into the magic underwear, he rushes to the crime scene, and he helps the crooks manage their new money.
...every once in a while it seems like the cosmos part and something great plops into your lap, that's how it was with "Hotel California".. a leased beach house in Malibu ... all the doors wide open on a spectacular July day probably in 1975 ... soaking wet ... thinking the world is a wonderful place to be... with an acoustic 12 string ... those chords just oozed out.
I move between San Francisco and Paris... I have a wonderful beach house in California.
We feel more and more intensely about the music we make. It's unexpected, and not always what you would think of in Beach House. It's all art in the end. We aren't making records because we have to; it's because it's what we want to express.
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