A few stats on Beach Slang’s glorious and galvanizing debut album: in less than a half hour, it provides 10 righteous bursts of punk rock boosterism. All of them speak of being fucked up, being a fuck-up, or some combination of both. In seven of those songs, James Alex sings the word "alive," in three others, he sings "young," and there's one song called "Young and Alive". Eight mention some kind of amplification—either turning yourself or the radio up. Oh, and the title is The Things We Do to Find People Who Feel Like Us, which sums it all up: some people get drunk and unite with other weirdos to listen to rock music as loud as possible because for them there's no better way to feel young and alive.
It’s the most passionate batch of love songs you’re liable to hear in 2015, and they’re all about a specifically anthemic form of punk rock. No band shows more belief in it as an agent of social change, but Beach Slang's is the apolitical kind where the right song can unshackle you from self-doubt and pity to get you out of the house and be a part of the world—go meet somebody, go to show that makes you forget about all of your very real problems. Its societal dynamics and terminology are anachronistic and a cynic could view them as willfully naive—the punks and cops are at odds throughout, but it’s mostly over noise ordinance and open container complaints.
For a record bursting with love for its audience, The Things We Do to Find People Who Feel Like Us is divisive by design. If you expect or demand rock bands to create some kind of distance from their work—via irony, cleverness, a desire to look cool—you are one of them and you won’t make it to the first time Alex commands you to pump up the volume on "Throwaways". But if you’ve been impatiently waiting for someone to break through the year of self-conscious indie rock, "I Break Guitars" and "Ride the Wild Haze" make you feel like you're part of Alex's "us." The album actually delivers on the title's promise and there’s really no other band trying to fill this crucial role right now, at least until Japandroids break their silence.
James Alex is 40, significantly older than the other three members of Beach Slang and about 15 years removed from his previous band’s disintegration. He doesn’t hide this fact, and it serves as the basis for The Things We Do’s centerpiece and outlier. "Too young to die, too late to die young," Alex sighs with superhuman earnestness over capoed acoustic guitar (and, since this is the ballad, cue the strings and pianos). It’s a lament from a guy who didn’t live fast or gloriously burn out when he had the chance, and feels like the proverbial old guy at the club even when he’s not at the club. Shoutalong, agenda-free punk rock is aggressively pushed to the margins on all levels in 2015, written off as the kind of music people are expected to outgrow. But what if this is the thing that still does it for you?
Well, then you’re one of Alex's us and your options are to either hide in your records and disengage from the stream of life or celebrate this music that saved your life by adding to it or honoring its intent. Originally appearing as a raw solo cut on a Philly-based benefit compilation, "Too Late to Die Young" was written after Beach Slang’s completely unexpected success and, as usual, there’s an utter lack of artifice and a confrontational vulnerability as Alex looks at the gathering crowd and realizes, "I swear right now, I’m alright." Thirty seconds earlier, he admits having been ready to give up and not 30 seconds later, he’s shouting, "The basement is alive and loud/ We’re alright now" on a song called "I Break Guitars". This is Alex and Beach Slang’s triumph, but he makes sure it’s big enough for all of us to share.
