Beach House's spooky and warm lo-fi pop music continues to breeze past. Beach House pause for thought and take a literal, not musical, break from woozy synths and a steady heartbeat drum-machine pace. I'm inclined to sit, drift and reconsider their dark and spiritual sounds. I listen a little more carefully to two albums that don't spark, but have always burnt right through me.

I just heard "Used To Be," a song released in the gap between touring and recording an album next year. "Used To Be" indicates the duo are far from washed-out; in this pit-stop the duo take their time, sit in dunes far from any road, and stare at the ocean. As they do, and before they move on, I want to be ready to follow. I'm reacquainting myself with albums that I flew through--wobbling harmonies that conjure faded memories of crisp and bright days--the sort of days when you need to slow right down and take a look around to really understand what's happening, what's happened.