Edwards' ultra lo-fi production remains intact here, for better or worse, lending the album his usual recorded-on-a-bedroom-boombox aesthetic. Perhaps not so usually, it spans 30 tracks, most of which are under two minutes, and as a result, ideas are rarely developed very far. Paired with the generally simple instrumentation here, that brevity could have been a recipe for disappointment, but Hangin' At The Beach ultimately succeeds.
That success has something to do with the production, which is almost an instrument of its own here. Edwards' decidedly '80s-sounding hardware makes these crackling, submerged mixes conjure the era in a surprisingly vivid way, like the decade itself is calling you across time and space on some decrepit landline. The tone of the album largely matches the production: gritty, slightly menacing and distinctly urban techno sketches with DIY punk's disregard for polish. The album could probably have been trimmed, but much of its effect lies in its sheer volume and manic approach. Plus, if you don't like a track, chances are it'll be over in less than a minute.
Fans of surrealist, lo-fi beats and the 1980s will finds Edwards' beach worth visiting. Just don't picture pristine sands and crystal waters — this album is an encrusted bit of jewellery you find at the bottom of the pier. (L.A. Club Resource)