Live Review: Beach Slang at The Workman's, Dublin

It's been two years since your ever humble Hot Press scribe last witnessed a Beach Slang show. Since last we met, the punk-imbued, Philly-based bunch have grown in confidence, unleashed a brace of full length albums and gained a cult like following, which feels only right and proper as listening to their music can often seem like a religious experience. Brimming with lyrics that will be inked on the insides of school-books and the outsides of human bodies for years to come and boasting some beautiful hooks, Beach Slang (for those of you not yet converted) follow in the tradition of the Replacements, the Smiths and the Gaslight Anthem and make music you can get lost in for hours. Tonight, they (finally) play their debut show in our fair isle and Hot Press is more than a little keen to get reacquainted.

Coming onstage to the strains of the Black Eyed Peas' 'I Gotta Feeling' with their tongues firmly in their cheeks, opener 'Noisy Heaven' couldn't be any more perfect as frontman James Alex croons “The night is alive, it's loud and I'm drunk/Kissing the mic and singing about us/The songs that I make, I barely rehearse them/They're hardly mistakes, they're meant to be honest.”

A perfect mix of ringleader and rabble rouser, the Beach Slang singer and songsmith is a magnetic performer who is every bit the “misfit kid” that often stars in his music. “I’m a slave to always fucking up/It’s not okay, but maybe it’s enough/Kids like us are weird, and more, we’re brave/We tie our tongues and turn them into rage” he sings, as he leads his new look band through a bullish version of 'Filthy Luck.'

Not content with giving us goosebumps you could hang a hat off during the likes of the gorgeous and gloomy 'Dirty Cigarettes' and the explosive stomper 'Atom Bomb,' they also indulge in some amusing onstage patter too and at one point even invite their merch lady/Beach Slang family member onstage to mix James a vodka and orange while they rip through 'Bad Art & Weirdo Ideas,' trying (and failing) to suppress their chuckles. There really is a first time for everything...

Though admittedly it was initially a little jarring seeing the crowd surfing and moshing of the (very) early Slang days being replaced with dutiful nods and appreciative applause, I must admit hearing the Dublin crowd sing along to the likes of 'American Girls And French Kisses' as one made me feel proud of just how far these plucky punks have come in such a short space of time. We hope you're all adjusting your metaphorical buckles, because this ride has only just begun.