I am probably too obsessed with the concept of genre fluidity, almost certainly an over-compensation that I’ve made over the years to genre-rigid gatekeepers. Who even gets to decide what genre of music is categorized as, anyway? Is it in the band, the fan, or the critic? These are some of the thoughts that came to mind while listening to the self-described lo-fi surf punk band Daisy’s Room.
I confess that on my initial listen to Daisy’s Room’s new album Next Year, I didn’t hear surf punk; I immediately thought, “This is classic indie rock.” The songs, and especially the saturated, fuzzy vocals, seem to belong on the same branch of the music tree as The Strokes (in fairness, Daisy’s Room freely admits to the influence of 2010s indie). There was just something I was missing compared to bands I think of as surf punk, some of my favorites like Man or Astro-man, Daikaiju, or Agent Orange – perhaps the heavy reverb or tongue-in-cheek lyrics. However, after a few listens, I think I began to understand it.
In fact, it was the subject matter of the songs on Next Year that started opening my eyes. When you have songs titled “Sun City” and “I Wanna Surf”, you’re pretty clearly staking out your territory. Those two songs, which follow the 56-second “Never Good (part I)” (spoiler: there is no Part II on this album), actually seem to go together as a pair, vocally and instrumentally, to the point where I had to double-check multiple times where one ended and the other began. The rest of the songs on Next Year are more individually unique, although I couldn’t say there was a standout track for me. But that isn’t really a problem here; this album is coherent and immensely listenable. One of the classic punk traits that Daisy’s Room nails is brevity; all nine tracks come in at just under 20 minutes, meaning you could put the album on repeat and easily listen to it two or three times in a row (this works especially well playing Mario Kart).
The songs on Next Year dwell on feelings of loss and regret, the kinds of feelings that come with break-ups, geographic moves, and assorted tribulations that accompany coming of age, tinged with morsels of hope – maybe next year will be better. Daisy’s Room leans hard into the lo-fi, DIY vibe (the band records and mixes all of their songs themselves), and the raw production highlights how deftly the songs are crafted. The choruses don’t come with big sing-along hooks, yet you find yourself singing along nonetheless. The beats don’t necessarily belong on the dancefloor, but you’ll be bobbing your head anyway. Maybe it’s not party music- or maybe this isn’t the party you were expecting.
Just as there are east coast and west coast surfing styles, so there are many flavors of surf punk, and trying to pigeonhole an introspective tune into self-aware cynicism is probably a silly exercise in futility. Just because you think of surfing as sun and fun, it doesn’t mean the foggy coasts of San Francisco agree. Not everyone at the beach party is having a great time, but dour surfers need a soundtrack, too. Daisy’s Room has crafted an excellent one with Next Year.
Written by Dylan Steele
