The Teenagers
Since announcing their arrival to the world in audacious fashion with their debut single ‘Homecoming’ last summer, Parisian trio The Teenagers have quickly become one of the most discussed and most divisive new bands of recent times. In the wake of their brilliantly evocative debut single, the band found themselves cloaked in a veil of suspicion and mystery. For every uber cool kid with a myspace fixation that lauded the band for their cleverly crafted brand of musically simplistic, yet lyrically candid Velvets esque synth-pop; there were an equally persistent number who dismissed the band as an insipid Nathan Barley style hipster joke devoid of any real depth or musical divergence. I have to admit that upon initially hearing their initial material, I found myself somewhat unsure of whether the band had any real sustainability.
Whilst ‘Homecoming’ is undoubtedly a class record, oozing Gallic sleaziness and brimming with adolescent vigour, its superbly infectious chorus hilariously chronicling the contrasting male and female viewpoint’s of a holiday romance (“I fucked my American c*nt, I loved my English romance”); I always find myself approaching any band who seemingly arrive out of nowhere amidst a blaze of hype and ludicrous eulogies with a degree of caution. It may have been simply be a case of cynicism clouding my outlook, but their debut single was initially in my opinion nothing more than a superbly efficient and charily studied parody piece. From its initial Strokesian guttural guitar rush, to its no-holds barred chorus and it’s too clever by halves lyrical reference points. On the first couple of listens, the whole thing was just a little too contrived and self satisfied with its own brilliance for my liking. However, it soon occurred to me that through their intrinsic haughtiness, The Teenagers had flawlessly encapsulated the carefree contempt that most teenagers possess for adulthood. Although, the band themselves are in their mid twenties; they and their music are seemingly perpetually trapped in a world of youthful fixation centred around house parties, fantasy love affairs with movie stars, one night stands and doomed relationships. Using this as their template, the Parisian trio’s debut album ‘Reality Check’ is an adrenaline infused synth-pop celebration of all things juvenile.
Following on from ‘Homecoming’, is latest single ‘Love No’. An enthralling, potent slice of pop built around a gargantuan two chord off kilter guitar sequence before segueing into a huge chorus. It details the throes of what seems to be a relationship destined to end in hatred, contempt and anguish. Like their debut single, the track again tells the story from both perspectives. Yet, on this occasion lead singer Quentin Delafon firstly adopts the character of aggrieved girlfriend (“You party too much no wonder you’re always tired......and for god’s sake, stop smoking all the time”) before offering her nit-picked boyfriend’s perspective (“And now I’m just wondering, are you in love?”). It again highlights the trio’s knack of eloquently summing the difficulties of everyday adolescent relationships with a verdant grouping of lyrical hilarity and musical simplicity. The trio’s simplistic positivism is in abundance throughout, with a series of delightfully constructed slices of synth- pop; ‘Feeling Better’ appears as a call to arms for the isolated from the band themselves (“Who’s there for you when you’re cold and alone?
Teenagers, The teenagers”), ‘Streets of Paris’ is a contagiously punky salute to their hometown and ‘Starlett Johansson’, a brilliantly slapstick pastiche which casts Delafon as a Scarlet Johansson obsessive. Another murky highlight is the salaciously seedy ‘Fuck Nicole’ which was written in response to a particularly sordid message the band received on their myspace page.
Many of the bands detractors will point to the one dimensional nature of much of the material on ‘Reality Check’ and it is true that the band will have to expand their repertoire in future to remain an exciting and alluring proposition. But there are enough frolic filled gems on this debut to suggest the band have a much brighter future than many would have predicted. The last track ‘End of the Road’ represents the inevitable calm after the storm, the come down after the riotous evening. It’s tenderness and (whisper it!) maturity provide a fittingly contradictory climax to a rebellious, unruly and fun debut.