Album Review: Teenage Dirtbag by Mae Valley
Alright, let me just say this upfront—Mae Valley’s Teenage Dirtbag is one of those albums that sneaks up on you. It’s not flashy or overproduced; it feels like sitting on a porch somewhere in New Zealand, sipping tea while the world slows down for a sec. Released back in 2015 under Mediaworks New Zealand, this little gem sits snugly in the Folk, World, & Country genre with a country twist. And yeah, I know what you’re thinking—how does a Kiwi band tackle something as quintessentially American as country? But trust me, they nail it.
The title track, “Teenage Dirtbag,” hits hard right outta the gate. Now, if you're expecting some angsty pop-punk anthem (you know, like Wheatus’ version), think again. This isn’t about rebellion or teenage angst—it’s softer, more reflective. The lyrics feel like looking through an old photo album, all faded edges and bittersweet memories. There’s no screaming guitars here, just Mae Valley’s raw vocals paired with acoustic strums that make your chest ache a bit. It’s the kind of song that makes you want to call up your high school bestie and apologize for being a jerk back then. You remember people differently when time has passed, don’t ya?
Then there’s another standout, though I won’t name it because half the charm is discovering it yourself. Let’s just say it’s got this lazy Sunday vibe, where the melody drifts along like clouds across the sky. The harmonies are so tight they almost feel accidental, like catching two birds singing together at dawn without even trying. That track sticks with me because it reminds me of long drives through nowhere towns, windows down, wind messing up your hair. It’s simple but perfect, you know? Like finding a handwritten note from someone who mattered.
What really gets me about this album is how genuine it feels. No frills, no gimmicks—just honest storytelling wrapped in twangy strings and heartfelt vocals. It’s easy to imagine these songs coming alive in smoky pubs or open fields, wherever folks gather to share stories.
Here’s the kicker though: listening to Teenage Dirtbag, I couldn’t help but wonder—why don’t we hear more from Mae Valley? Maybe they didn’t chase fame, or maybe life got in the way. Either way, their music lingers, like the smell of rain after a storm. So do yourself a favor: give this album a spin. Then tell me it doesn’t leave a mark.
