Early this morning, certain corners of social media were abuzz with reports that the cultishly beloved Philadelphia rock band Beach Slang had broken up on stage last night. According to various Instagram and Twitter posts, several times throughout a tense performance at Salt Lake City’s Kilby Court, James Alex repeatedly announced that it would be their last show and told the crowd they should be given a refund. The tension reportedly came to a head at the end of the set, when Beach Slang attempted to cover “Can’t Hardly Wait” by their spiritual ancestors the Replacements and ended up imploding in Replacements-like fashion. According to multiple fan reports, Ruben Gallego threw his guitar down and stormed off stage, after which Alex announced again that this was Beach Slang’s last show, slammed his guitar into the stage, and walked off.
— Tricep Meat (@matthewqnanes) April 29, 2016
Well, Beach Slang have indeed cancelled their show in Boise, Idaho tonight, but fortunately, they’re not breaking up for good. James Alex has just shared the following statement on Facebook, apologizing for the cancellation and for last night’s show and affirming that Beach Slang aren’t going anywhere:
“Westerberg was playing his favorite guitar […]. Suddenly, he grabbed it by the body and slammed the neck down on the amplifier and splintered it completely. Afterwards, soundman Brendan McCabe approached him in shock: ‘Paul what the hell did you do that for. How could you wreck that guitar? You loved that thing.’ ‘Well that’s the difference between me and you Brendan,’ he told him. ‘You cherish things you love. Me? I destroy them.’”
The first time I read this part of Trouble Boys, I thought, “Fuck, maybe there’s really something to that. Maybe there’s romanticism in destroying the things you love.” Or maybe I’m just a messed up kid who thinks he never deserved any of this. I don’t know. After I left the stage in Salt Lake, thinking I was ending Beach Slang, I was walking down the street, back to the hotel, when a girl from the show ran up to me, hugged me so sincerely, and said, “Don’t do this. We need you.” Straight away, I realized I was wrong. There is nothing sweet, there is no light, and there is nothing romantic when the thing you love is broken.
Salt Lake, for the car crash last night and Boise, for fumbling on you, I am gigantically sorry — even bigger than that. I am going to make good on making it up to you. Cross my heart.
This, and all of you, mean too much to me. I love you with thunder. I love you all the way.
So, yeah, Seattle, we are still coming to your good city, wild-eyed and ready, our hearts bashed back into shape.
If you’re still in, we are.
For us — all of us,