Why a beach town makes a good band town

A lot of places have a music scene. Ours has something a little different: a whole town that goes outside to listen.

You notice it on a Friday or a Saturday. A patio with a few people playing, a marina bar with a speaker and a good view, a block party where somebody's cousin has a guitar. Nothing's behind a velvet rope. The sound just drifts out into the street, and if you walk by, you're in it.

That does something to the way a band writes. You learn that a song has to work when there's a boat engine somewhere in the background. It has to hold up when somebody's talking over it and then stop talking because the chorus came in. It has to be a good thing to hear from a block away, with the smell of salt and fried shrimp and sunscreen.

I like that. It keeps the songs honest. If it only works in a quiet room it isn't built for here. If it works with the doors open and the night coming in, it probably is.

That's the room we're writing for. Doors open, night coming in, a town that's already outside.

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