The Parrots - Dos (LP) - Blue Vinyl

The Parrots have always sounded like last night’s beer still fizzing in the glass, but Dos turns that glow into something sharper and, slyly, more tender. The Madrid trio of Diego García, Alex de Lucas and Larry Balboa came up on raucous garage shows and scrappy 7-inches, then spent years on the road refining a swagger that never tipped into parody. Here they keep the raw fun, but they let in more colour and, crucially, more Spanish. It suits them.

Dos lands on Heavenly Recordings and, in broad strokes, picks up where their debut left off. The guitars still bite and the rhythms still tumble forward, yet there’s a brighter surface to these songs and a stickier sense of melody. You can hear it from the off in You Work All Day and Then You Die, a title that reads like a black-joke meme but plays like a slacker rallying cry. The riff grinds, the drums kick, and the chorus feels tailor-made for a sweatbox room full of mates yelling every word. It’s funny, a little grim, and entirely addictive, which is a neat summary of this band’s sweet spot.

The shift to more Spanish lyrics gives the record a different pulse. Maldito stomps along with the kind of bassline you might hear rattling out of a bar on a hot night, while the guitar scrapes and sparkles on top. Diego’s delivery flips between sneer and croon, and the hook lodges itself before the first chorus even finishes. It’s the sound of a group that knows exactly how much grit to leave on the tape. Then there’s It’s Too Late To Go To Bed, a late-night singalong that loosens the shoulders a bit. A sprinkle of keys, a little echo on the vocal, and suddenly The Parrots are flirting with pop without losing their bite.

What makes Dos stick is how confidently the band trims the fat. The songs are tight, the choruses come quick, and the performances are tough without getting stiff. Larry’s drumming is the secret weapon here, keeping that kinetic garage feel but finding space for small accents that lift a section or flip the groove just when it needs it. Alex locks in around him, giving Diego room to slash at chords or drop in a surfy lick. It is the kind of chemistry you only get from a band that has sweated through a lot of shows together.

People who fell for the chaos of early Parrots will still find plenty to chew on, but there is a clarity to the sound that makes Dos a great place to jump in. It isn’t a makeover, more a bright coat of paint that lets the hooks shine. You can hear how much fun they are having, and that joy is contagious. It is also quietly significant to hear a Spanish rock band folding bilingual lyrics into songs that feel this effortless. It broadens the horizon without turning the record into a concept.

If you’re hunting for The Parrots vinyl, Dos is the one you want to spin when friends come round. It explodes out of speakers, but it also has those moments that reward a full play, no skipping. The kick drum thump, the fuzzed guitar, the gang vocals, all sound especially alive on a good system. If you’re browsing a Melbourne record store, you’ll know it the second you clock that bright sleeve tucked between The Hives and The Strokes. And if you buy The Parrots records online, keep an eye for the Dos vinyl, because The Parrots albums on vinyl don’t tend to linger long in the racks. It’s the kind of record that keeps nudging its way back onto the turntable even after the newness wears off.

Dos feels like a band hitting the sweet point between instinct and intention. The Parrots still chase that lurching, sticky-floor energy, but they’ve sanded just enough edges to make these songs hit harder and hang around longer. Put it on when the sun dips and the esky opens. Put it on on a Tuesday when work feels like a bad joke. Either way, it delivers. And if you’re in Australia, plenty of vinyl records Australia shops have cottoned on to this one, so it shouldn’t be too hard to track down. It’s a blast, and it’s built to be loud.