Musical Mondays | 'Teens of Denial' Album Review

Album: Teens of Denial

Artist: Car Seat Headrest

Favorite Tracks: Drunk Drivers/Killer Whales, Fill in the Blank, 1937 State Park

Genre: Indie Rock

Year: 2016

Total Length: 1 hr, 10 mins

This band was recommended to me by a fellow student member of our local radio station, and I couldn’t be more grateful for giving it a listen. So, if you’re reading this, thank you Jake. I will be sure to play these guys once I pass my DJ test.

A little background about Car Seat Headrest, because I am not a fan of not knowing where music comes from. The origin generally plays a key role in the sound, style, and lyrics of the music, and thus is helpful in understanding the album in depth. What I learned from a quick search on Spotify, lead singer Will Toledo did not in fact go to school for music. In fact, he followed a similar pursuit as my own. As a fellow English major, I learned that I have something in common with the dude, so hey, brownie points for you, Mr. Toledo. It is natural human instinct to be drawn to people with overlapping interests (no wonder his lyrics are so poetic), so I had already been able to relate to this guy before the album even began playing.

However, when it did begin playing, I stumbled into this lovefest even further. I had chosen their most recent album, ‘Teens of Denial’, and while it was a shot in the dark, I seemed to have hit the target. With an opening song as strong as cheeky and depressingly upbeat as ‘Fill in the Blank’, I could tell that this album was something good. With cheerful, bubbly tunes accompanying darker lyrics, the contrast results in a beautifully crafted juxtaposition that’s simply contagious. Even the lyrics contradict themselves, as Toledo initially croons that he has “no right to be depressed”, but later cries out with a small yet significant alteration of words, that he’s oppositely “got a right to be depressed”. This opener is definitely one of the better tracks on the album, along with hazy ‘1937 State Park’ and the vaguely nostalgic ‘Drunk Drivers/Killer Whales’.

Toledo’s voice is what I can only think to refer to as “fuzzy” and “gritty”. It sounds weathered, it sounds tired. It sounds out of focus, yet strikingly in key. It’s as if it’s being filtered through some sepia Instagram filter, vintage and grainy and making everything that much more stunning. This sound melds perfectly with the feel of the music, the kind of sound that wraps you up in a cozy blanket and gives you hot cocoa because it’s pouring out and there’s a leak in your roof and the cat is drinking from the puddle of messy water that rains in through it but you’re on a budget so for now you’re just going to deal with it. Toledo’s voice, the theatrical guitar playing of Ethan Ives, and Andrew Katz’ precise hammering of the drums are that blanket; the comfort that you can embrace in the rainy, dirty mess of a day.

Because that’s exactly what I envision when I listen to ‘Teens of Denial’. Rain, fog. Distance. You would imagine this would make the listener feel empty, however it does just the contrary. It’s a grey cloud, but it’s a very fluffy, comfortable grey cloud that you want to curl up on and sleep on for 36 hours straight. While the groggy vocals and the bittersweet lyrics depict a downtrodden saga, the musicality of the songs lift spirits and feed the soul. It’s abstract, it’s messy, and yet somehow it works so well together. It’s numbingly sanguine, and ultimately creates an aura of comfort for the listener. Rainy days are okay, and that’s exactly what this album is demonstrating.

So, who should give this wicked album a listen? Specifically, fans of Two Door Cinema Club, Glass Animals, Frnkiero andthe Cellabration, and Moose Blood would enjoy the moody lyrics and distant vocals of this album. While I am generally into the scene of pop punk and post-hardcore, I am always itching for a quality indie album to bookmark when I need to focus on homework or lull myself to sleep at 3am. It’s great bonfire music, if that elicits any sensory connotation for you. It’s true listening music, in the sense that you’re not going to get it all from the first or second through. It’s the perfect album to put on repeat, mostly because it’s not harsh and you won’t be judged by the people two rooms down for listening to people screaming about death. Because, while listening to stuff like that is certainly not a bad thing, it’s always nice when people actually want to come visit your room.

On occasion, of course.

Happy listening! I hope this album becomes your fluffy grey cloud.

xoxotay

(P.S. If you know of any bands or albums that you think I would enjoy, or would like for me to review, please leave them in the comments, or contact me via Twitter or Instagram!)

Photo by Ian Allen for the New Yorker