There are albums that unintentionally capture an era, simply by picking up on what’s in the air. Family Rules , Smash’s first full-length album, is one of them. Recorded between 2011 and 2012 in the analog studio of La Féline prod in Ménilmontant, this record smells of warm wood, magnetic tape, a cup of tea left on the console (a nod to the Rutles and Monty Python), and endless discussions about ultimate heroes — The Beatles, Hendrix, Led Zeppelin, Small Faces, and their peers.

It’s a handmade work, crafted by a family of musicians who are more like brothers than colleagues. In Family Rules , Smash talks about roots, rupture, reinvention. Nothing is showy—just tracks made to be played loud, felt together. A rock carved out of the joyful urgency of those who know they have nothing to prove, except perhaps to themselves.

The album opens with “Underwater Rock and Roll,” a manifesto track, a hybrid of surf, fuzz, and underwater poetry. The tone is set: we’re here to dance, dream, and sometimes punch, but never lose the melodic thread. Next comes “Well,” more introspective, digging into the grooves of the soul without drowning in melancholy. Then there’s “Coming Home,” the standout track—a heartfelt cry and anthem of returning to one’s roots—to family, friends, the neighborhood. An “I’m coming home” chanted like a declaration of identity, both social and personal.

Side B opens with “Cloudz,” a beautiful escape with dreamlike accents. It evokes François de Roubaix or forgotten seventies cartoon theme tunes. It’s soft, floating, with that gentle irony that runs through the entire album. On the other hand, “Bad Morning Blues” confronts things head-on: the blues of a world in disarray, a morning radio bulletin announcing disaster. The intimate meets the global, without speeches, just raw emotion.

“Hey hey Mona” is a love song like they don’t make anymore—direct and a little dirty, with a smiling fuzz that reflects the romantic renewal of one of the band members. And “Ten Feet Underground” is the rocket of the album—a rock missile with an almost Soviet rhythm, exploding with a delicious bassline. You can see why this track has been compared to a homemade version of Back in the USSR .

The two hidden tracks at the end of each side are experimental oddities, to be listened to backwards or with careful ears. Like winks to those who take the time. Like the rest of the album, they embrace their freedom.

On the production side, no gimmicks: everything was recorded using vintage equipment—guitars, amps, keyboards, all straight from the 60s and 70s. A true artisanal approach, made possible by Xavier Ruiz and Mathieu Lartigue, founders of the La Féline prod studio, where the analog tape still rolls. The album was entirely produced by Xavier Ruiz and Fred Grosy. All tracks were composed by Fred Grosy and arranged collectively with Xavier Ruiz, Luis Ruiz, and Jorge Alvarez. This vintage warmth isn’t just a stylistic effect—it fits the narrative, strengthens the organic bond between the musicians, and simply says, “We’re here, together!!!”

Family Rules is an album of transitions. The band members were going through separations, fatherhoods, and reconstructions at the time. There’s uncertainty about the future, but a lot of light in the present. You can feel that music serves as a refuge, a form of collective therapy—not to forget, but to get through.

The album was initially pressed on vinyl, as if it were obvious. And now it’s being re-released today, available on all platforms. This is good news because this album deserves to be heard—not just for its songs, but for what it represents: a way of making sincere, warm, living rock.

A homemade record, meant to be played loud. With family!!

Available to listen on Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/intl-fr/album/5db0uC39mg9ZthZBeLH3Ub