What if your dad’s midlife crisis involved a drum circle, a bottle of rum, and unexpectedly tasteful production?
Welcome to Chili Island, the second full-length record from Miami’s reggae-rock dream-havers Chili Guys. Out June 17, it’s an album that dares to answer the question: What if your group chat planned a beach party and accidentally made a concept album about it instead?
It’s vibey. It’s sincere. And bizarrely, it kind of rules.
Let’s start with the single. “Listening to Reggae” could’ve been a disaster. The title alone sounds like something a hungover college freshman scrawls on a whiteboard outside their dorm. But no. Against all known laws of genre pastiche and cultural cringe, it’s actually… good?
It’s got that warm, beach-sunset energy and even opens with a short, wholesome vocal cameo from the lead singer’s son, Indigo. The result lands somewhere between heartfelt and “This is a child’s voice but somehow I’m not annoyed,” which is rare. The track honors Bob Marley and the Wailers without sounding like a karaoke night at Margaritaville. You feel the reverence, but more than that, you feel joy. Unironic, barefoot joy.
It’s not reinventing reggae, but it doesn’t have to. It’s just trying to share something it loves. Which is, coincidentally, what reggae was trying to do in the first place.
Their first album, Love, Papa, was basically a musical journal entry about becoming a dad; equal parts existential tenderness and jam band noodling. It was sweet, if occasionally a little too into its own innocence.
Chili Island, though? This is what happens when the baby’s old enough to run around in the sand, and the band’s back in the studio with a six-pack and a ukulele. It’s fun, it’s confident, and it somehow walks that tightrope of being cool dad music without turning into Guy Fieri on a jet ski.
Tracks like “Island Girl” and “5 O’Clock” are exactly what you think they are, and yet they’re also… better? It’s as if they leaned hard into the beach-dad persona and came out the other side with actual musical clarity. This isn’t ironic dad rock. This is fully-realized tropical fatherhood-core.
The production on Chili Island is slick without feeling plastic and the songwriting, while relaxed, is far more focused than you’d expect from a band whose creative process involves “breathwork and jam sessions.” Recorded at FLOW STATE STUDIOS, their musical home base, the album feels lived-in and collaborative, with core members Mike Halley, Alex and Andy Gonzalez, producer Michael “Vazen” Vanasek, and co-producer Frank Kenobi (of ¡Mayday!) holding it down like a rhythm section on a pontoon boat. Add in guest spots from Alex Coombs (Rauw Alejandro) on trumpet, Branden Decaso on sax, and Tony Cora on guitar, and you’ve got an ensemble of musicians who sound like they’ve all been handed mojitos and told to vibe responsibly. Highlights include “Beach in Miami,” a hometown anthem with dembow swagger and R&B flair; “Tequila Sunrise,” which plays like Prince stumbling into a tiki bar at dawn; “Sweetest Gift,” a genuinely touching acoustic moment that sneaks up on you; and “High in Margaritaville,” a song that knows exactly how ridiculous it is and leans in like it just bought you a drink.
There’s no ironic twist ending here. Chili Island isn’t secretly a takedown of late capitalism (unfortunately), and it doesn’t feature a surprise 12-minute prog track about dolphins (also unfortunately). Chili Island by Chili Guys is a sun-drenched, feel-good album from a talented crew who just want you to smile, dance, and maybe call your dad.
And honestly? In a media landscape increasingly dominated by cynicism, reaction videos, and AI-generated sludge, that feels… revolutionary.
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About the Author
A tenured media critic known working as a ghost writer, freelance critic for various publications around the world, the former lead writer of review blogspace Atop The Treehouse and content creator for Manila Bulletin.
