Beach Slang has never been a band to pull punches. On their sophomore full-length album, “A Loud Bash of Teenage Feelings,” these Philly-based punk-rockers tackle the heady experience of adolescence with all the blistering, bare-knuckled zeal the album title suggests. In keeping with their debut record, “The Things We Do To Find People Who Feel Like Us,” their newest album provides a solid set of headbang-worthy tunes, but its honed-in focus on youth makes “Teenage Feelings” a more cohesive and sincere work.
The thesis of the record is laid bare halfway through its hot-blooded opener, “Future Mixtape for the Art Kids” — amidst typical devil-may-care lyrics about feelings of coming-of-age immortality, the second verse’s command to “stick your heart on your sleeve” is a surprisingly earnest rallying cry. Subsequent lines assure listeners, “if it breaks, stitch it on to me ... you might be cracked / but I won’t let you break.” This suggests a shared vulnerability and camaraderie rarely called upon with such frankness in the realm of punk-rock lyricism, an arena remaining close to traditional portrayals of masculine-postured belligerence, despite its themes of rebellion.
The album is far from sonically groundbreaking or even subtle, yet the lack of self-consciousness is refreshing. Beach Slang’s devotion to misfit youth, as suggested in song titles like “Punks in a Disco Bar,” proves a wellspring of emotional candor throughout the rest of the album. Even its treatment of romance is anchored in these plain-spoken, visceral terms — “Hot Tramps” brazenly likens a paramour’s arms to “a car crash I want to die in,” and “Wasted Daze of Youth” professes the glory of kissing someone’s mouth is “to taste your spit.”
The band has been heavily touted as an heir to legendary 80s rock band The Replacements, and not without reason. Most songs on the album are characterized by a scuzzy cocktail of raw-edged guitar riffs and lead vocalist James Alex’s throaty growl, all coated in a thick layer of fuzz. Yet this garage-esque aesthetic seems to be cultivated and controlled chaos, as the album’s sharply deliberate pacing suggests — all 10 songs clock in at a lean 29 minutes. Despite a lack of overt narrative, aggressive shout-along anthems are reliably punctuated by more soul-searching moments.
One of these moments is the comparatively softer and poppier third track, “Spin the Dial,” whose repeated affirmation, “I’ve got a halo on my heart,” seems the most revolutionary of all among the generic sentiment of teenage nonconformity. It suggests showing emotional vulnerability without shame might be the most punk rock thing of all.
Beach Slang’s latest effort shows honesty and emotion in a framework of youthfulness, making it an incredibly enjoyable record.
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