2011,

Teen Brigade is something lame, tired and wild that wants to break free from digital constraints.

Daily, sounds are recorded internally and externally through people and machines, creating sonic inconsistency. To say the music of Teen Brigade bridges a gap of the human portrayal of audible consumption is a gross overstatement.

Live sound is awkward, unnerving; pop sensibilities are played as hymns seeking to be heard as comforting. In reality, they are the eccentricity of cultural pastiche.

When one hears the famous lyrics to the Beatles, “Drive My Car”, an objective assessment is automatically calculated based on social impact. To mock such a significant song is a form of de-canonizing and deconstruction.

The electro-blues of white males bleed in oscillating and enigmatic self-awareness –a solidified reconstruction of broken form mirrored from social norms and worn-out grooves of empirical nothing-know-hows.

Teen Brigade is the vibrating toothbrush or the mechanical vanity of overriding necessity for unnecessary simplicity, never to be anything more than unintentional.