Florida Water Blues

Twisted Teens — 2026

“Florida Water Blues slows Twisted Teens just enough to reveal their strongest songwriting yet.”

Twisted Teens did not take a breather. Six months after Blame The Clown gave everybody their scraggly power pop fix, this New Orleans crew comes back with Florida Water Blues, 13 tracks on Going Underground that expand their sound with even more care and precision. The manic energy is still in there, but now it feels more refined and completely locked in on the songs’ delivery. Caspian Hollywell handles most of the instruments himself, and his baritone has this full-throated growl that sounds great paired with Razor Ramone’s steel guitar, which warps and bends all over the record like this summer heatwave. I think this is their best work, just edging Blame The Clown.

The songs play out like strange Southern folklore, full of contradictions and a low hum of doom, and somehow every one of them sticks in your head. That is the slight difference because Twisted Teens slow the structures down here and leave you with songs that are catchier, groove-heavier, and at times still rock out harder. Jaxon Vesely’s mastering deserves a mention too, because the record’s highs and lows pop with far more distinction than previous releases. This is punk and country played by people who clearly love both and refuse to pick a side. Their rapid output is a great addition to an already strong year for music.

The title track is great. “Florida Water Blues” takes local lore and turns it into an earworm so infectious it feels like a trick. When he sings “Little fucker with a big attitude” on “Concealed Weepin’,” it makes you take notice and reveals a depth that goes beyond previous Twisted Teens tracks. “Hand Me a Cigarette” opens with delicate fingerpicking before ripping into garage punk fury, and the whiplash between those two modes is the album in miniature. “Swamp” treats the Deep South as a character made of thick atmosphere and unfiltered imagery. Then “Sun Go Down” closes things out as a lonesome country ballad that fakes an ending in silence before collapsing into creaking strings and backward synths. It’s the perfect ending, showing Twisted Teens with enough punk credibility to satisfy lifers while writing hooks that any indie fan can sing along with.

The Gun Club was another band that delivered American roots music with plenty of menace. There is also a real Country Teasers streak running through this record, that same ability to warp country song structures into something that combines humor and sad reality. When the band strips things down, I hear Meat Puppets from that great Meat Puppets II era. And the way they deliver raw punk to twang recalls Reigning Sound, where the songwriting stays sharp no matter what.

Twisted Teens slowed down just enough to uncover a deeper record waiting in the water.