Going to the beach is one of the best things in life. My ideal beach strategy in NYC involved packing snacks (some combination of healthy [hummus/vegetables, or simply some fruits] and unhealthy [sea salt kettle chips for a meta flavour experience]) and a flask of vodka, going to Coney Island or Brighton Beach or Riis depending on mood and other people's willpower, getting a frozen lemonade on the boardwalk and spiking it with aforementioned vodka OR waiting for a nutcracker salesman to come through with an icy slab of high-proof goodness, roasting like a rotisserie chicken, dunking myself into the ocean like an Oreo into a glass o milk, maybe pulling a Lana, applying sunscreen every 8 minutes out of paranoia, looking at a seagull, respecting the essential nature seagull, and making sure to leave in time to get home for a crucial Post Beach Nap.
You could say, if you wanted to, that going to the beach is LINDY. We certainly have been doing it a while in America, at least as far back as when everyone wore wool pajamas and top hats to the shore.
Now the devilishly fun Brooklyn rock 'n' rollers known as Mary Shelley have penned and recorded and released a delightful and rowdy song about how fun it is to go to the beach with all your friends. It's not "surf rock" so much as "waterski upside-down while chugging a beer rock." Blast it en route to your beach of choice, ideally while riding in one of those kind of Jeeps that doesn't have any doors, with 10-12 friends all dangling off the sides of the Jeep like you're in one of the Mad Max movies, and you'll be good to go.