Frank Black
Teenager of the Year [30th Anniversary Edition]
4AD
By the time the classic Pixies lineup ran its course after four punky, stunningly dynamics-rich recordings spanning the late ’80s and early ’90s, its songwriter-singer Black Francis was up for other adventures. And while his self-titled 1993 debut under his solo moniker, Frank Black, stuck its landing with a poppier version of Pixies’ bleak brand of sci-fi surf-punk, its follow-up—1994’s Teenager of the Year—was bolder, weirder, and less Pixies-like (despite the presence of guitarist Joey Santiago), and would eventually become Black’s finest musical moment on his own. Now, taking a break from all-things-Pixies for the start of 2025 following last year’s The Night the Zombies Came release cycle, Black has re-released Teenager of the Year in a 30th-anniversary edition on double gold vinyl with a solo tour running through February.
Like his debut, Teenager of the Year was co-produced by synth player and latter-day Captain Beefheart band stalwart Eric Drew Feldman, and featured the captain’s mate Moris Tepper on lead guitar. You wouldn’t confuse any synth blurb or guitar twitch for Beefheart-level skronk, but it’s certainly a risible element within Black and Feldman’s toolbox. So too, was Black’s drive toward contagious pop vibes and crystal-clear merry melodies designed to camouflage his oddball character studies and mini-biographies such as “Superabound” and its tribute to circus maker P.T. Barnum, and the Chinatown-like investigation of LA’s water system documented on “Ole Mulholland.” From loud, shiny moments such as “The Hostess with the Mostest” to big, crunching rockers like “Thalassocracy”; from grandly hooky anthems (“Freedom Rock”) to child-like lullabies (the aptly titled “Sir Rockaby”); from cleverly appointed love songs (“Speedy Marie”) to straight-ahead rompers (“Headache”); all 22 songs on Teenager of the Year just gets incrementally better—and better still with time.
While memorable tracks such as “(I Want to Live on an) Abstract Plain” and “The Vanishing Spies” may have been the songs I sang to myself back in 1994, I’m certain to be croon-coughing along in Black-like fashion to Teenage album enders “Bad, Wicked World” and “Pie in the Sky” when Frank plays my town (and yours) this winter. And isn’t that the true measure of a worthwhile reissue—something you never realized was so essential to the artist’s and the listeners’ life?
