Car Seat Headrest’s identity as a band is almost inseparable from their foundation myth. The band started as the solo project of singer/songwriter/guitarist Will Toledo, and he recorded the vocals for the band’s early albums inside his own car. This sort of isolationist behavior shows itself throughout the record, but “Teens of Denial” is notable for more than just its sense of loneliness. The songs all feel expansive in structure yet intimate in lyrics, explosive in sound yet quiet in nature.

In many ways “Teens of Denial” is similar to a Steven Spielberg film. Much like how Spielberg balances the human element of his stories with the sheer grandiosity of his filmmaking, so too does Toledo ground his big ideas with personal, relatable stories of feeling awkward and ashamed. In doing so, he does what all great music aspires to do: he makes the listener feel like they aren’t alone.

The album starts off with “Fill in the Blank,” a sardonic, self-lacerating piece of lyricism wrapped up in the coating of a true indie rock banger. Toledo sings lines such as “If I could split in two, I would just take my fists / so I could beat up the rest of me” over fiery distorted guitars and pounding drums. While the music initially feels mismatched to the lyrics, it becomes apparent that the ferocious instrumentation is mirroring Toledo’s self-hatred in a genius bit of songwriting. This match of music and mood continues throughout the album, especially on the frantic, funk-inspired “Vincent” (a song about depression and despising one’s own introvertedness) and “Drunk Drivers / Killer Whales.”

“Drunk Drivers / Killer Whales” is, in many ways, the centerpiece of the album. Like many songs on the album, it focuses heavily on self-reflection; however, it shows the light at the end of the tunnel. The song itself can count as its own narrative, with Toledo starting by realizing “It’s too late to articulate it, that empty feeling / You share the same fate as the people you hate / You build yourself up against others’ feelings,” and ending by stating “It’s not too late / Turn off the engine, get out of the car, and start to walk.”

The music reflects this feeling, going from twinkling guitars in the verses to a triumphant amble in the chorus. Much like the rest of the album, “Drunk Drivers / Killer Whales” relies on very few tricks to accomplish its goals, but at the same time it manages to make everything feel alright. “Teens of Denial” refuses to simply look up at the stars wide-eyed and amazed, but it looks up just the same.