The Teenagers spent the majority of last year riding a blog-induced wave of hype, using MySpace to reach the masses along with the sporadic sprinkling of demos and remixes. Now the debut LP, Reality Check, has arrived and the reactions are sure to be mixed. While some will find the candy-coated electro pop fun and extremely catchy, others will surely be turned off by the French band’s redundant obsession with vacuous youth culture. But the point here is to have a great time amidst the overflowing irony, as these particular Teenagers are living in a world where the excessive highs of the '80s never died, but rather grew more vibrant in a sort of hedonistic, fluorescent dreamland.
With lyrics like “On day two I fucked her, she is such a slut,” and “I fucked my American cunt,” you would think the Teenagers would come off as crude and misogynistic sleazebags. Ironically, the charm here is served up in healthy doses. In fleeting moments, the band’s escapist anthems reach obvious heights and every song definitely has a memorable hook and/or chorus. The problem lies in the redundancy. At album’s end, you may feel like you just listened to one long, repetitive song. Highlights like the charming stalker rocker “Starlett Johansson,” the adorable “Make It Happen,” and the bitter “Sunset Beach” would make any hipster hit the dancefloor during an all-night bender. But ultimately, the lack of substance here makes the longevity of these tracks seem minimal. Charm can’t live on charm alone.
For mindless, catchy pop, Reality Check isn’t bad, but if you’re looking for a great album centered around hedonistic storytelling, revisit Pulp’s 1995 masterpiece, Different Class, for the real deal.
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