The Planet Smashers - On the Dancefloor
Stomp Records
Released on August 22nd, 2025
Before listening to The Planet Smashers' new album, On The Dancefloor, I had a small reference pool for what Ska was supposed to mean. My two references were a scene from Brooklyn 99 and The Planet Smashers’ song, “Super Orgy Porno Party”. The scene from Brooklyn 99 depicts one of the main characters interrupting a street interview with something along the lines of, “Ska will never die!”. My other point of reference, “Super Orgy Porno Party”, had been shown to me at 17, which was funny then, and will still be funny when it is the last song to reach me at my hospital bed. I knew Ska was forever, and Ska was fun; both of which On The Dancefloor demonstrates expertly.
The Planet Smashers formed in Montreal during the early '90s, first sustaining themselves on a diet of punk, rock, and Ska. After some brief canoodling with rock and punk, The Planet Smashers got down on one knee and devoted themselves to a life of Ska, starting with the release of their debut album, The Planet Smashers, in 1995. While On The Dancefloor maintains the same upbeat energy that The Planet Smashers flaunted in their youth, the lyrics display a shift to a more mature tone. Their song “Wasted Tomorrows” is a prime example; it reminisces about time lost with friends, rather than singing about the time they shared pissing in elevators.
“Wasted Tomorrows” is fun right from the start. The first hit of the snare, like a bullet shot high into the atmosphere, sends the rest of the band off to the races. Punchy, pulsating horns populate the off-beats, creating a sense of urgency that gets the listener on their toes. A ripping guitar knocks them back down a moment later, with a riff that has the speed and shock of a lightning bolt on a sunny day. It’s aggressive, but it cools off fast, leaving a small burnt patch on your brain that’s begging to be struck again. The lyrics are simple, but they work; with Matt Collyer’s voice enthusiastically but earnestly delivering lines about longing to waste time with someone you deeply care about.
The Planet Smashers’ “Police Brutality” was surprising, but welcome, like a hug from my emotionally withdrawn parent. I first heard it on a strange and lengthy bus ride home from school. The bus was loud and hot, and the person next to me was falling asleep with a lit cigarette in their mouth: the perfect environment for Ska. I spent most of the way home in a stupor, my body unsure of what to do with the bizarre cocktail of sleep deprivation and Planet Smashers on which it was functioning. As I stumbled off the bus, Neville Staple’s alarm bell voice yanked my attention away from the $0.06 left in my bank account, “Police, police, police!”. I looked around. “Police, police, police, police brutality!”. I wiped my brow; it was just Ska. But it wasn’t about some crackpot adventure; it was about a real, visible issue. I felt like a proud father. Look how far my boys have come! From pissing in an elevator to discussing real systemic issues! I was beaming. What will they do next? Who knows! The Planet Smashers might just save us all.
On The Dancefloor succeeds in the most fundamental way that Ska music can; it’s fun. It makes you want to party, to dance in your seat with no concern that your neighbor’s lit cigarette has fallen square in your lap. I wouldn’t say On The Dancefloor is a political album, but it manages to sneak in what it needs to, getting me to sing and dance to “Police Brutality” without the full force of a 45-year-old white man knocking me to the ground. I had fun listening to On The Dancefloor, and you would too. Buy it from Bandcamp because Spotify is scum.
