The record shows that Beach Patrol has placed top ten albums on three of my last six year-end lists.
Festivus, the band's eighth album, is destined to crack this year's top ten as well. I've had the privilege over the past 16 years to hear Domenic Marcantonio grow in his craft from a promising young talent in the power pop universe into a great American songwriter. Like 2020's
Making Waves,
Festivus was recorded in Domenic's basement and captures the feel of a band playing live rock and roll. This unvarnished approach to recording would not work for every band, but it has become a huge part of Beach Patrol's appeal in recent years. I love being able to close my eyes and feel like the band is right there in the room with me. And minus any slick production touches, everything hinges on the quality of the songs. In the case of
Festivus, that's a very good thing. If basement rock is a genre unto itself like garage rock, Beach Patrol ought to be its poster band!
In terms of the evolution of Beach Patrol's sound, Festivus picks up where Making Waves left off. While still very much at home in the worlds of power pop and pub rock, the band adheres to no particular genre or musical conventions. The album draws on influences ranging from rhythm & blues to pop to folk to country to traditional rock and roll. And while Domenic is as adept as ever at writing a catchy tune, his continued growth as a storyteller and observer of the human condition has become the centerpiece of his craft. Listening to Making Waves made me feel like a wiser, more enlightened human. Festivus -- with its lyrical mix of life philosophy, relatable stories, and personal reflections -- has the same effect. While a couple tracks ("Jung-er Than Yesterday", "Don't Concern Myself") recall the Beach Patrol of old, I love that Domenic has begun to excel outside of the box of the three-minute pop song. The songs "Bad Actress" and "Every Time I Watch The Jerk" (undeniably two of the best songs on the album) demonstrate that while Domenic can still turn out great hooks, he's not always in a rush to get to them. "Bad Actress," a bitter recounting of deceits endured, takes its sweet time (five minutes and 45 seconds, to be precise) unfolding a devastating extended metaphor. "Every Time I Watch The Jerk", which celebrates the enduring brilliance of Steve Martin's signature film, is so joyful and infectious that it leaves me wanting more even after five minutes. Elsewhere, "Ballad of Phineas Wheelock" and "Thanks Coach" stand out as some of the most powerful and profound songs that Domenic has ever written. As was the case on Making Waves, Damien Montana Dias steps up to add his own singing and songwriting presence. "Greek Circus Top," his contribution to the album, is a feelgood number of literally epic proportions.
I can still remember Beach Patrol's first album showing up in my mailbox back in 2006. I had never heard of the band before (although I must admit that the Green Bay return address gave me high hopes!). I popped that CD into the car player, and I was a fan by the time I got to the end of the street. In retrospect, I can acknowledge that that debut pales in comparison to later releases. But isn't that the way it's supposed to be? Bands start out good and get better. They grow, and you get to grow with them. I was barely old enough to be president when I first encountered Beach Patrol; now I'm eligible for AARP membership. I've had the fortune to watch (or better yet, hear) a good band become great. On "Jung-er Than Yesterday," Domenic Marcantonio sings the lines "Won't be remembered for the things I left behind/But for doing what I done out of love." You know he means every word of that, and that tells you everything you really need to know about Beach Patrol.
