Outside the Ocean Mist, it was hot. Late July hot. Inside, for three hours with the California Honeydrops, it was so much hotter. With air conditioning provided only by- you guessed it- the evening’s ocean mist, wafting in off of the Atlantic, through every open window, the temps climbed in-sync with the heat onstage during this sold-out appearance by the Bay-Area party band.

Having been treated earlier to some home-cooked chowder, the eight-piece ensemble was fueled and ready to meet the summer moment in southern Rhode Island. Led by the always-affable singer, guitarist, and horn man, Lech Wierzynski, the octet opened with the sprightly sway of “Like This, Like That.” And, just like that (or this), the festivities were off and rolling. 

Into a second decade as one of the more joyous and buoyant bands on tour, in recent years these Drops have gotten even stronger. Miles Blackwell, the group’s new(ish) bassist is, despite the mustache, a baby-faced, lock-down groove assassin. His membership moves founding bass man, Beau Beaullieu, back to his native drumset, teaming with founding drummer, Ben Malament, for a percussive attack that sustains and propels the party like never before. Add in the expandable horn section anchored by founder and saxophonist, Johnny Bones, and filled out with dueling trombonists, Oilver Tuttle and Miles Lyon, and the cozy Ocean Mist confines were stocked end-to-end with some mighty and magnetic musicianship.

It was Tuttle’s request for “Only Home I’ve Ever Known,” about midway through the first set, that provided a brief and fleeting time to take a breath. The lighter fare preceded Wierzynski’s shout-out to Buck, (somewhere in the packed house), thanking him for providing the local cuisine- the real deal, in which the spoon did not stand-up straight in the bowl, Wierzynski complimented with a laugh. A highlight of the first hour, the Drops delighted with Eddie Floyd’s “I’ve Never Found a Girl (To Love Me Like You Do),” extending it with exceptional solo flights- as they did with just about every song- on dynamic runs from the horns, Wierzynski, and keyboardist, Lorenzo Loera, or, at best, all three together.

After a 20-minute respite, the second stanza launched, with the eight delivering a terrific reading of Emmylou Harris’ “Feelin’ Single, Seein’ Double.” Malament, then, talked of sand between the toes at this shoreline venue, before taking the lead vocal on a romp through Robert Parker’s mid-1960s hit, “Barefootin’.” Later into the set, the band shifted back to its original lineup for a few numbers, with Malament on washboard, no less- recalling their gestational days busking on the streets and in the subways of Oakland- before returning to present form for the finale.

The relentless Honeydrops pushed right up until curfew and, cognizant of the time, offered just a single encore. Yet, there were only smiles of satisfaction, and exhaustion, from the faithful as they wandered outside after the last note, into the steamy night. That was some heat. That must have been some chowder.