Review: Beans ‘Less Louder’

Sometimes, when reading the press releases accompanying new albums, one has to be careful not to be swayed by the genre label the band, or whoever penned their bio, has chosen to slap on their sound. Reality often diverges wildly from the tidy tag on the sticker. That said, there is garage rock, and then there is the soft, boldly honeyed garage rock that pours out of Beans (formerly known as Baked Beans), a quartet of long-time high school friends hailing from Geelong and Melbourne, Victoria, Australia.

At the helm is Matt Blach on lead vocals and guitar, who is also notably the drummer for the well-known Australian garage rock outfit The Murlocs and calling Beans ‘garage rock’, however, barely scratches the surface. Their music breathes somewhere else entirely: in the hazier, sun-warped territory of psych-alt-rock, laced with pop grooves and a distinctly Bolan-esque glam shimmer, as if a stray strand of T. Rex’s stardust drifted in and settled over the record. It is less a genre than an atmosphere: fuzzy guitars unspooling into something almost syrupy, rhythms that sway rather than snap, and melodies that glow faintly at the edges.

The lineage isn’t hard to trace. Blach‘s day job behind the kit for The Murlocs ties Beans directly into the Flightless Records family. Furthermore, the band’s history of signing to King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard’s label and sharing stages at Gizzfest means that unmistakable Gizzard DNA runs through their freewheeling, riff-chasing momentum. Yet, there is also a kinship with fellow Australian psych travellers Tame Impala: the same appetite for kaleidoscopic, slightly overdriven textures and roomy song structures, even as Beans steer toward something gentler than King Gizzard’s heavier, more maximalist churn.

It is less direct imitation than shared soil; bands drawing from the same fertile, endlessly strange corner of the Australian underground, each bending it toward their own temperament. Their discography tells the story of a band gradually mellowing. Their 2018 debut, Babble, released when they were still known as Baked Beans, introduced them as an organ-driven garage-psych outfit. It was full of Hammond swells and lockstep grooves steeped in the paddock-basher boogie of their Geelong roots. 2020’s All Together Now pushed that sound bigger and brighter, with Blach citing ELO, Slade, and ’70s glam pop as touchstones, the precise moment where the band’s pop instincts began to surface.

Then came 2024’s Boots N Cats, a deliberately drum-forward record born out of Blach‘s pandemic-era DIY sessions, putting percussion dead centre and marking their most muscular statement yet. Their fourth album, Less Louder, is their second release for London’s beloved Fuzz Club Records. It arrives as Boots N Cats‘ quieter twin, written in the same sessions but built as its ‘Sunday Afternoon’ counterpart, as Blach puts it. Where its sibling leaned into rhythm and drive, Less Louder drifts through psychedelic pop, surf, and doo-wop textures, favouring softer, acoustic arrangements with piano pushed further into the mix.

a warm, vivid, and beautifully muted kind of musical daydream where you can simply enjoy the ride…

It is the most unguarded, melody-first record the band has made; the natural endpoint of a decade spent slowly trading grit for glow. The ten tracks reflect that spirit perfectly: psych-pop ballads with surf undertones, melodies so catchy they seem to arrive fully formed, and an ethereal jangle-pop haze wrapped around every piece. These ten sweetly sung songs are built for an intimate tête-à-tête rather than a crowded room. The sound is fluid, sun-warmed, and summery.

The instruments are never pushed to their limit, with the minor exception of Remember, which allows itself a touch more urgency, but are instead caressed and coaxed along the natural flow. There is a spontaneous, effortless beauty here that asks for no work to uncover; it simply invites you to let go and be carried.

Calm sets that tone immediately: melodic and steeped in a honey-sweet pop sound that cradles you like a held breath, pulling you into the softest, most romantic corners of yourself. Smile shifts the light slightly into glam pub-rock filtered through pure innocence, where Blach‘s vocals curl and swagger in a way that recalls Marc Bolan at his most playfully tender. Then comes Corny Love, opening on the same drum figure as Calm in a sly callback before settling into a slow, melancholic ballad that wouldn’t feel out of place on a lost Badfinger record from their most romantic moments; aching, unhurried, and quietly devastating. It is a standout track that lingers long after it ends.

The album exhales entirely on its closer, Bad Man Walking: acoustic, ethereal, and stripped almost to breath and string. It feels less like a final track and more like a fade into daylight, something that could have drifted straight off Tyrannosaurus Rex’s My People Were Fair And Had Sky In Their Hair…, full of wide-eyed folk-glam wonder and soft, unresolved longing. Perhaps this is where Beans really reveal their charm: in the way their songs seem to open up rather than simply arriving, taking you deeper into their colourful universe.

There is something wonderfully unforced about the whole experience, as if the music itself is taking you by the hand and leading you somewhere removed from the everyday. The melodies linger, the grooves shimmer, and before you know it, you have surrendered to that peculiar, hazy space where sounds become images, and the imagination is free to wander. It is a warm, vivid, and beautifully muted kind of musical daydream where you can simply enjoy the ride.

Label: Fuzz Club Records
Band Links: Facebook | Bandcamp | Spotify | Instagram

Scribed by: Domenico ‘Mimmo’ Caccamo