Judged by their deliriously lecherous debut, Reality Check, the Teenagers might be the best reason for North America to lock up its daughters since Mí¶tley Crí¼e during The Dirt years. Over the course of 46 perverted minutes, French genre-mashers Quentin Delafon, Dorian Dumont, and Michael Szpiner leave no doubt as to what’s on their minds 24/7. Even though all three are in their 20s, like any hormone-overdriven teenagers they are obsessed with one thing, and one thing only: fucking. And based on the evidence presented over 14 tracks, they seem to have gotten more ass to date than a Silicone Valley stunt cock.

The reality is that, despite what you hear on Reality Check, the Teenagers’ teen years in Paris didn’t exactly make them look like the male hired help on Girls Gone Wild: France.

“I’m glad that I don’t have to be a kid all over again, because I don’t want to be sitting there all alone in front of a computer,” says a laughing Szpiner. The bassist is speaking in heavily accented English on his cellphone, just outside of Manchester, England. “It wouldn’t be fun—all I have to do is think of the nerdy loser that I was in high school.”

Give the London-based Teenagers big points, then, for being expert bullshitters. Szpiner admits that Reality Check is basically fiction, making the record something of a Revenge of the Nerds–style fantasy for discerning hipsters. “French Kiss” finds singer Delafon setting the mood for a teenage face-sucking session with vodka and Red Bull, a viewing of Dirty Dancing, and a 4 a.m. kitchen party. “Sunset Beach”, meanwhile, has him banging an Elliott Smith–loving Gap accountant with an ass to die for, with the drunken grinding taking place to the sound of Mariah Carey’s “Hero”. As with the rest of Reality Check—which meshes neon-lit synths with tinny beats, echo-drenched vocals, and Dumont’s gauzy psychocandy guitars—such tracks display an eye for detail that would impress that guy from the Hold Steady.

“Someone recently called it [Reality Check] an imaginary teenage diary,” Szpiner reveals. “I think that’s a really good description. It’s packed with a lot of stuff that we never did.”

However, what’s ultimately made the Teenagers the It Boys of the moment is “Homecoming”, a he-said/she-said recounting of a Euro-scenester
coming to America and scoring with his aunt’s cheerleading virgin stepdaughter. Over a killer blend of shoegazer guitars and Ladytron-brand synths, Delafon boils a summer fling down to basics with lines like “I fucked my American cunt.” What makes the song more than a dirty joke is the way that his female counterpart sees hooking up with a hip European as more romantic than a week in Paris with Pete Wentz.

“People think the record is funny, but if you really look at the songs, they are actually a little bit sad as well,” Szpiner suggests. “Like ”˜The Homecoming’ isn’t just about the guy. Other times we’ll sing about a girl going to parties and getting completely fucked up so she doesn’t remember what happens to her. That’s sad.”

And with that bit of insight into his band’s work, the bassist suggests that maybe the Teenagers aren’t the reprobates they seem. The key word, of course, being maybe.

The Teenagers play Richard’s on Richards on Friday (April 18).