Authenticity is hard to come by these days, and, more often than not, what sounds like bona fide originality turns out to be nothing more than a manufactured doppelganger of the sorts. That’s why it’s so refreshing to hear a band like Beach Slang, whose unapologetic album ‘The Things We Do To Find People Who Feel Like Us’ undoubtedly comes straight from the heart of these four Philadelphians.
From the moment this record kicks in, you can’t help but feel your ears prick up and your spine tingle from the aura of excitement that surrounds it as you realise – wait a second, this is actually something different! Their lo-fi rumblings are unlike anything else around right now, taking us right down to the underground where we can hide from commercial, ego-maniac rockstars, and once again indulge in the humble basement of rock ‘n’ roll. ‘Throwaways’ opens the album and, with its fresh, fun sound, sets us up handsomely for the next nine tracks.
With ‘The Things We Do To Find People Who Feel Like Us’, Beach Slang wonderfully balance on the tricky edge of grunge-punk, where they skilfully manage to maintain a low-fi fuzz and earthy grit whilst still opening up to the light-hearted pop-punk fluff that brightens up this low-down grunge-fest. ‘Bad Art & Weird Ideas’ is so light, in fact, it almost borders on pop, while the bouncy, bubbly melody of ‘Hard Luck Kid’ is a pop-punk hit, right down to its upbeat tempo and toe-tap-ibility. However, Beach Slang give us plenty of shade along with those moments of light, such as the husky rasp of ‘Too Late To Die Young’, the fierce punk punch of ‘Ride The Wild Haze’ and the seductive sensuality of ‘Porno Love’.
When the final track is over, this record leaves you with a feeling that not many other are able to accomplish; we feel young and free, full of the need for rebellion, and the sense of possibility that many bands touch upon but only a few truly capture. ‘The Things We Do To Find People Who Feel Like Us’ is nothing short of an underground masterpiece.
Written by Sam Lawrie (@SamLawrie)