Released in early August, Teen Spaceship’s self-titled EP is a distinctively sincere and atmospheric throwback to 1990s bedroom pop and indie rock. Filled with fuzzed-out riffs, nostalgia-inducing chords, and moody lyricism, each cut conjures a sense of emotional urgency that brings to mind autumn nights at Danger Danger Gallery, warehouse shows, and DIY ballads of yesteryear.
Opening with “Voices,” Teen Spaceship frontman Will Kennedy grapples with the weight of isolation and anxiety through earnest confessions like “I haven’t seen the world for a week” and “I want to make myself small.” A probable successor to tracks like “Cut the Kiss” by The White Octave or “Dramamine” by Modest Mouse, this song’s strength lies in its unapologetic vulnerability. “Half a Hundred” possesses a similar transparency, most evident when Kennedy croons, “I wish you would approach me,” right before adding, “I’d have nothing to say.” This juxtaposition between desire for human closeness and a fear of intimacy or inability to fully connect with others is as relatable as it is honest. Like a more minimal riff on Neutral Milk Hotel’s “Song Against Sex” meshed with Built to Spill’s “Cleo,” “Half a Hundred” documents the inner narrative of a loner with a contemplative heart. As Kennedy declares, “I’ll have a slow day/I’ll climb the steps to feel big again,” alongside crashing cymbal and swelling chords, listeners are left to consider their own methods of coping with the existential challenge of being alive.
The EP’s third offering, “Henry,” begins with the slow rise of guitar and Kennedy’s brooding vocals, which recount a conversation in the wake of a personal crisis. Here, the instrumentation heightens the tension of what is left unsaid, each lick of guitar and hissing cymbal embodies the dissonance between those alluded to throughout the song’s narrative. Perhaps the most dramatic anthem on the album, “Henry” is a memorable portrait of how language fails to fully capture the complexity of loss, love, and compassion. Befittingly, Teen Spaceship ends with “Pittsburgh,” which begins with laughter and stripped down strums of guitar. The final track is a slow but catchy meditation on finding a sense of belonging in places outside of one’s hometown. “Pittsburgh” unpretentiously pays homage to how hope can be found through candid conversations and embraces with friends. Kennedy’s diction conveys with ease the temporal yet everlasting testament to the power of community and chosen family, which is the perfect way to end this heartfelt debut.
Despite its brevity, Teen Spaceship is deeply meaningful and substantial. Don’t be surprised if you find yourself returning to this EP again and again this fall. – Dianca London