Put the inhaler down, lose the headgear and wipe that stupid jock smile off of your face: we’re not here to relive our high school days. Whether that’s good or bad, there’s one thing to agree on: The Teenagers are pretty damn good at distilling all things incredible, wicked and true about being young. Or maybe the trio, being in their early twenties now, actually enjoyed puberty and are now trying to share that experience with the rest of us. Either way, the end result is electric, synthy, pop-rock that can’t be ignored. However, even with infectious melodies, the obvious selling point of ‘Reality Check’ is the lyrics. Opening up your album with a song about laying your aunt’s stepdaughter (with lines such as ‘I fucked my American c**t’) is just so ballsy, it’s brilliant. You’ll hear about a girlfriend who nags too much (so what if you’ve seen Showgirls fifteen times already?), sleeping with some chick that ends up stealing your jazz masters, and breaking somebody’s heart because you can. Somehow, you start listening to these things, and by the end of the album, you’re totally enthralled: taking each of them as seriously as an impulsive, hormone-driven youth would. Sure, the production might appear to blur a little bit during the first slew of tracks, but it evens out near the end. So if you need to get your ‘revenge of the nerd’ on, listen to some of The Teenagers and if you want, start acting as cool as the kids in their songs. I swear, I’ll tell all your friends you were always like that.

RELATED POSTS:

No related posts.