Live
< The Teenagers at Central Station
words by Reef Younis
The Teenagers are FRANK's worst nightmare. Casual, carefree and doling out the kind of life advice most practiced at a Skins house party, they’re doing more for French/Anglo relations than Monsieur Sarkozy could ever hope to.Their debut, ‘Reality Check’, was something of a welcome wake up call – awash with glorious pop hooks, dry, witty lyrics and a refreshingly contemporary approach to the tribulations of relationships and generally fitting in. Aesthetically, they’re on it too, with an eye for subtle style as sharp as their ear for an understated anthem.
Tonight, lead vocalist Quentin Delafon carries himself like he’d fuck anything that moved. Louche and at ease, he wears sexual suggestion like a grimy overcoat. His half sung, half spoken vocals drawl with a Gallic glaze that reserves him a seat alongside Serge Gainsbourg in the same sex pest pen.
Backed up by a pair of porcelain beauties on bass and drums, the set’s tight, polished and heartbreakingly cool. Languid and relaxed, The Teenagers aren’t too exerted by their exploits, and while ‘Homecoming’ and ‘Starlett Johansson’ receive the expected crowd acclaim, much of the self perceived cool seems to reside in the crowd.
The genial atmosphere is only spoiled by security’s steadfast refusal to allow any girls on stage to dance to ‘Homecoming’ much to Quentin’s annoyance. After some sarcastic applause and general dissent, he shows his disdain by moving to the crowd himself, allowing the kids down the front to bark a few lines into the mic.
Regardless ‘Feeling Better’ brings the joie de vivre back into the room and while many don’t respond to Quentin’s request to “dance, dance, dance” you know The Teenagers have been a success. Not a huge one though, why try too hard?
Originally appeared in volume 1, issue 31 of Loud & Quiet magazine
