beach slang album review the things we do

ALBUM REVIEW: Beach Slang ‘The Things We Do To Find People Who Feel Like Us’ | Released October 30, 2015

by Mitch Foster • November 13, 2015

For lead singer, James Alex, there’s a lot weighing on this album. And, really nothing at all. Alex, now in his 40s, offers his pure, egoless soul, punch by punch, through his shredded chords with Beach Slang‘s debut album, The Things We Do to Find People Who Feel Like Us.

That said, Beach Slang has put out one of the most important albums in punk rock music this decade, The Things We Do To Find People Who Feel Like Us.

It is the Full Collapse of our audio files.
It is the Deja Entendu of our poetry books.
It is the last bloody slice of Raw, Sweet, Sweaty, Egoless, Fucking Truth of our starving generation.

From the thought provoking statement of the album title, to the simplistic packaging of the vinyl, to their blurry, sweat-driven live performances, I am bursting with appreciation for this band. These four troubadours are exactly what us punks needed to grab onto. They lift us up, even when we’re at our bottom. They hit as hard as they can, then go even harder. They grab our hand and pull us through each poetic track, only one landing over the three minute mark. The songs don’t seem to follow a typical formula, all being independent movements of egoless reflection. They are fixing rock and roll, at least a tiny little part of it, but, it has to start somewhere. And I’ll be following their torch as long as it burns.

Tears ran down my face as I read aloud, “Bad Art & Weirdo Ideas,” next to my lover. She didn’t even notice. But she doesn’t have to. It’s not her job to notice me, it’s only mine. “Too fucked up to love, but too soft to hate.” I continued, aloud. “I’ve always felt stuck, alone or ashamed.” “We are not alone. WE ARE NOT MISTAKES.” I say, paired with tears.

It was so fucking, fucking beautiful. So honest, it hurts. It hurts to feel the way he describes. It hurts because it’s so fucking familiar. Now, I’m crying in the kitchen and reminiscing … of all the pain and emptiness and hurt and loneliness burning it’s way through my veins and scars …

I have ten more songs to go (there’s a hidden one at the end –which I had NO idea about and was a complete surprise. And more, I haven’t been surprised like that since I bought Bush’s Sixteen Stone on cassette!) and have already been ripped wide open, smiling with vulnerability.

I needed this.

I assure you, James, I am like you. We are all like you, punk.

I’m literally carrying this thing around like is Lionel’s blanket; I’m showing my friends. Reading lyrics aloud. It’s a big deal man, and I’m making it known.

These are the words that mean the most to me; speak directly to me, even. Please, share which ones mean the most to you, no explanation needed, that is your safe secret, a golden scar.

GOOD LOVE IS NOT SAFE.”

There’s a time to bleed and a time to fucking run.”
— “Throwaways.”

The sound of your heart is wired to break. Too fucked up to love, but too soft to hate.”
— “Bad Art and Weirdo Ideas.”

Most of the words get stuck in my mouth, but I mean all the ones that punch their way out.” — “Noisy Heaven.”

I feel most alive when I’m listening to every record that hits harder than the pain.”
— “Ride The Wild Haze.”

Get high enough to feel alive.”
— “Ride The Wild Haze.”

The lowest lives, the desperate ones, you are the light of the damaged and fucked. Baby, turn your heart up.”
— “Too Late To Die Young.”

If rock and roll is dangerous, how come I feel so safe in it?”
— “I Break Guitars.”

Go barely care with all your might.”
— “Young & Alive.”

Go scare your skull. Bring it to life.”
— “Young & Alive.”

Go punch the air with things you write.”
— “Young & Alive.”

Nothing really happens if you think it might.”
— “Hard Luck Kid.”

I was born all wrong but I’m dying alright.”
— “Hard Luck Kid.”

All the words that I carve out of my throat, they keep me alive, but keep me alone.”
— “Dirty Lights.”

I’m a last chance bet, a neon ghost, but, man, the dirtiest lights shine the most.”
— “Dirty Lights.”

This bar is ours, let’s get numb.”
— “1982 (Hidden Track).”

I’m not lost or found or fucked. I get high. I get down. It’s enough.”
— “1982 (Hidden Track).”

Punch my mouth with your lips.”
— “1982 (Hidden Track).”

I can hardly think. It’s my favorite thing.”
— “1982 (Hidden Track).”

BONUS: Favorite lyric from non-album Beach Slang songs. I write a lot. It’s mostly lies.”
— ”Dirty Cigarettes.”

I think it’s exactly what it’s supposed to be. We rehearsed it for a month, recorded it in a day and mixed it in another. It’s not perfect, but it’s honest. There’s no gunk to it. Just 3 guys plugging in and bleeding it out.”
— James Alex, Even Trash Has A Place, page 41.

Rock and roll is a lawless place for forgotten kids. Once rock & roll is expected to be perfect, I quit.”
— James Alex, Even Trash Has A Place, pages 47 & 49

This thing is real to me. It wouldn’t be here, on the other side of these words, if I didn’t start poking holes in my guts, tear into my head, and struggle every day. I wouldn’t have healed. This shit saved my life. Now I’m alive, for the first time.

Listen to this thing, the whole thing. Do it alone. Sit on the floor. Do it with someone you love or someone you don’t know much of. Do it for yourself.

Buy Beach Slang records and merch at http://beachslang.limitedrun.com/

Beach Slang Live photo of James Alex by Adam Fricke.

Beach Slang Album Review: The Things We Do to Find People Who Feel Like Us by Mitch Foster, edited by Matthew Weller. Five out of Five fucking stars.

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