It used to be part of a good Boston rock weekend: After the Rat closed, you’d head to Thayer Street and party till dawn with the Dogmatics.

“Things were more community-based then, less corporate greedy,” singer/guitarist Jerry Lehane recalls. “We weren’t even supposed to be living there; we got the place for $75 a month each, and took our electricity from the basement. And now the same building costs $4 million.”

Boston may have changed since the ‘80s, but the Dogmatics can still throw a heck of a party. They’ll celebrate their new album, “Nowheresville,” with an all-day show at the French American Victory Club in Waltham July 26. No less that eight bands will play including a couple old-school reunions (Last Stand and Band 19) and longtime local favorites Tom Baker, Jay Allen, Stop Calling Me Frank, Black Cheers and GypsyMoths.

The Dogmatics’ original run came to an abrupt end in 1986 when bassist/singer Paul O’Halloran died in a motorcycle accident; the scene rallied with a weekend of memorial shows at the Rat. After a few years hiatus the band reunited in the early ’90s with core members Lehane, guitarist Peter O’Halloran (Paul’s twin) and drummer Tom Long, with Jimmy O’Halloran replacing his brother on bass. James Young has since joined to add more guitar and mandolin.

“Nowheresville” isn’t just a recording comeback; it’s technically their first album ever, since their two ‘80s releases were both eight-song EP’s. “We made a point of getting up to ten this time,” Lehane says. About half the songs are in their trademark garage-rock pocket, and their sense of humor proves intact on the Facebook-era musician’s lament, “No Likes No Comments.” But there’s more of a folk-rock sound in tracks like the Celtic-flavored “Con Job,” and “With a Scarlet Letter” benefits from both a feminist message and an electric sitar. Another rootsy number, “Nothing to Be Learned,” marks the first and maybe last political protest song in their history.

“To my mind that song doesn’t sound like the Dogmatics, but we had to sneak it in there,” Lehane says. “On the other hand, ‘Library Girl’ (a more characteristic song about a crush) was something I wrote in ten minutes. If you listen to the Stones’ ‘Sympathy for the Devil’ you’ll know where I got it from — but thankfully we’re not a big band and they’re not going to come after us. We’ve got a few writers in the band, and even Pete’s gotten more prolific. He’s nearly up to one song a year now.”

“A lot of bands have a signature sound that you can describe in a one-dimensional way,” adds Peter O’Halloran. “But you’re out of luck if you try to do that with us.”

They’re the first to admit that band life is calmer than in the ‘80s; O’Halloran is even a granddad now. “We’re fortunate in that all our kids have grown up and moved out, so we’re having some fun again,” Lehane says. “Back then we were all about the live shows and playing as many places as we possibly could; but I can’t sleep in a van anymore. Now we have the luxury of sitting around together and working on the songs, and we actually like practicing more than anything. What we do is get together and tell stories, and we’ve got a lot of stories to tell.”