Twisted Teens

Reviews

Twisted Teens Florida Water Blues LP

Folks fucking love this band. Read anything about the New Orleans duo, and you’ll find them held up next to all sorts of giants: GREG CARTWRIGHT, BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN, the GUN CLUB. YellowGreenRed even asks you to imagine them as GEORGE THOROGOOD under the influence of SWELL MAPS and NEU! They’re simultaneously reviving and reinventing down-home garage rock! And I sort of get the hype. There is something undeniable in the timbre of singer Caspian Hollywell’s voice and the soul he’s able to effortlessly impart to these compositions, and Razor Ramone’s woozy pedal steel really helps tie together the dusty scene they are painting. The pair also cut quite the dashing figure on the covers of their records, each of which sticks to a simple but striking aesthetic. Dudes have nailed their branding! And when I disengage with all of this and the music on Florida Water Blues just enough—like softening my focus to let a Magic Eye poster reveal the image of hobo carrying a bindle—I can sort of buy in, maybe even think something like, “huh, neat!” The second I give it any thought, though, that illusion of depth is shattered, and the branding is kind of all that’s left. Personally, I find the whole train-hopping, Southern-fried yarn-spinner schtick corny as hell. I’ve always felt similarly about SPRINGSTEEN, so I get that comparison. But as much as I dislike his music, the Boss can write the hell out of song. With Florida Water Blues, I don’t so much have a problem with the tunes, but these lyrics—holy shit! They range from a smattering of hacky tropes (swamps, old highways, cans of beans), to PARQUET COURTS-style tedious cleverness (“Concealed Weepin’” can fuck right off!), to outright crimes against language (“I know you’re wetter than a drowning fish / So I’m coming right over just to eat your dish”). And while I can hear the comparison points mentioned above (except for NEU! and SWELL MAPS…seriously, what!?), I was also reminded of a bevy of much lamer bands: SOCIAL DISTORTION, FLAMING LIPS, BECK, or WEEN. I even caught a whiff of SUBLIME on the album opener! Which is not to say they’re trying to sound like these bands or even that it’s bad to. Look, I know I’m going against the tide on this one. But my honest opinion is that this shit is a mix of just fine and decidedly not for me…and also that some of y’all need to calm down.

Twisted Teens Blame the Clown LP

There’s something about New Orleans that defines its own weirdness, a disparate collage of Cajun, creole, country, and punk subcultures with an identity distinctly of and desperately not of the American south. This transient collection can create art and music that is hard to pin down and classify it as anything other than itself, and TWISTED TEENS could only authentically come from there. A melting pot of garage rock, folk punk, blues, soul, and Americana, they have shaped their own sound that just feels like something familiar in that way that you could know WOODIE GUTHRIE by listening to the CLASH. There’s a crazy mishmash of GUN CLUB experimentation, zydeco energy, and TOM WAITS weirdness. Lead singer and guitarist Caspian Hollywell’s scratched-out, cigarettes-and-whisky-soaked voice harkens to his folk punk roots in SCISSORBILLS and BLACKBIRD RAUM—I mean, he’s wearing a SCROUNGER shirt on the cover of the album, so you get an idea where this is rooted. Lyrically, the songs have the humor and narrative weirdness of Tom Robbins on a meth bender. Hollywell is backed by Ramon (RJ) Santos on pedal steel, and their live shows incorporate a random entourage of other musicians on stage. It’s Santos’s playing that is the guts of the band, twisting and intertwining with the guitar and vocals and then breaking away while still carrying the song.

Twisted Teens Twisted Teens cassette

I’ve long felt that punk music is a folk tradition. At its most essential, it is tied together as a living history that is accessible to everyone regardless of anything other than love for the music. That is exemplified in this stunning full length, which both rocks and rolls but also feels like a lived-in and educated slab of American music that draws from a rich and deep well (or rather several). If it sounds like I’m hyperbolizing I might be, but I think we’ll look back on this one for a while yet as a brilliant confluence of old and new that sings in its own language. Okay, so how does it sound? It has edges of bedroom punk with a tight rhythmic center (using conventional and electronic drumming), with great expressive guitar playing and a gorgeous pedal steel on most tracks. The music is heavily melodic, showcasing the full-throated and gritty baritone of the main songwriter C.P.N. Hollywell whose lyricism is clever, aching and fiery all in turn. Some songs lean heavily acoustic, particularly the excellent and wistful “Tic Tac Toe,” but this is not merely folk-punk as it will then zig-zag back through a kaleidoscope view of other rock traditions, often with riffs steeped in blues and country but also with some non-pentatonic post-punk structures. In a way, it’s hard to pin down the sound here, and that’s largely what makes it feel like such a bold new thing—all while still having its moments of plainly fuzzed-out, crunching geetar bliss. I don’t always get to effuse about an album, and I certainly have here, but this was handily my favorite release of 2024 (it was on my top ten) and demands your attention. Hopefully everyone will catch onto what makes TWISTED TEENS important and special.