5 out of 5

Label: Asian Man Records

Produced by: Matthew Embree (recorded by, mixed by)

As a longtime Dan Potthast fan, I’d kind of relegated myself to accepting that latter-era Dan is… just kinda different than prime mu330 Dan. Yes, in terms of the music, he’s less likely to break out into a punk riff, but overall, his narratives / lyrics have turned towards the maudlin and silly. That’s not necessarily bad, and I find a lot of cleverness there, alongside the heart evident in Dan’s singing and playing, but maybe I’d caveat an album before passing it on to someone, with modifiers like “cute” or “sweet.” Are those insults? Nah, but admittedly it’s not outright praise.

Out of the various Dan bands, the & the Bricks setup produced the most shiny and flush of his ska-rock stylings, leaning into a classic pop up-strum, but given a solid backing by the full band, stepping in for vocal and songwriting assists. While Mr. Potthast might be leading the show, the naming difference is important, as it clearly changed the dynamic. Their first album has stuck around in my collection, when some other Dan iterations have fallen off – sometimes the campfire tunez vibe is too strong for my tastes.

Given that the passing years have somewhat encouraged the above tendencies I’m criticizing, I didn’t quite know what to expect from a 7-years-later return of the Bricks with When We Were Fearless. And I don’t think I could’ve expected this: all of that sharp-edged, bright, catchy songwriting from the former album, with the intervening years’ worth of experiences and other bands helping Dan and the group to tack on so many fun, well-blended extras, via the horns and keys arrangements and electronic touches, and then also tunes that twist and turn from core, instantly enjoyable hooks into surprising, memorable bridges or complete shifts in pace and style. This is taking ska as a template and using skill to scribble all over the template, producing something fresh.

Lyrically, Dan veers away from the more confessional / diary sketches nature of his true solo stuff and pens some affecting thoughts; if still mostly about relationships and friendships (with the occasional goof, like Kung Fu – also irrepressibly catchy), the writing breaks those themes in ways that feel both relatable and thoughtful. It’s not cringey. Dan P. & the Bricks are all grown up.

Matthew Embree’s production brings this all out: every aspect, every moment, perfectly balanced to make the hooks and beats land; the vocals soar or shred when the occasional shout pops up. If I’m being overly picky, maybe I’d go after A.J. Marquez’s songs as the album’s weak points, especially closer Sugar Beets, but I also kind of consider it a credit: it makes this more of a collaborative release overall, upping the appeal and distinctiveness.