Car Seat Headrest: Teens of Denial

Ryan Reed on May 31, 2016

Will Toledo’s rise to indie-rock acclaim follows the 21st-century cliché, evolving from dorm room to Bandcamp to legit label. But the 23-yearold paid his dues. Teens of Denial is his 13th album—a sort of prolificacy that reflects his motormouthed songwriting style. Denial, his first project recorded with a producer (Steve Fisk) in a proper studio, finds Toledo weaving diatribes about drugs, religion, sex and social anxiety into a stew of post-grad angst—but the expanded instrumental palette adds an Elephant 6 grandeur: from the circus organ madness of “1937 State Park” to the ramshackle brass of pseudo-psych nugget “Vincent.” Toledo’s cracking, homely voice—which lifts its deadpan cadence from Julian Casablancas—irritates after a few tracks,  but dude has a gift for oddball observations. The centerpiece is Wilco-tinged cautionary tale “(Joe Gets Kicked Out of School for Using) Drugs With Friends,” on which the protagonist takes acid and mushrooms but doesn’t transcend: “I felt like a walking piece of shit in a stupid-looking jacket,” he speak-sings, with a wiseass wisdom beyond his years.

Artist: Car Seat Headrest
Album: Teens of Denial
Label: Matador