Everything you are about to learn about Twisted Teens—and, specifically, their third magnetic and perfectly ragged album of 2026, a saga of heartbreak and hidden triumph called Holy Cross Tigers that also marks their Sub Pop debut—is the truth. Or at least that’s what Caspian and RJ “The Razor” Santos, who have somehow already collected several nicknames each in the two-year lifespan of this band, say right now. They also admit it could all be a lie, a myth they could be making up because it seems more fun than marketing themselves like trinkets in a discount store. Looks like you’ll have to decide for yourself, just like Caspian and RJ did when they decided Twisted Teens could be their band, their crew, their life.
In February, they released Blame the Clown, or maybe The Green Album, a record that met instant accolades, with Pitchfork and Paste essentially cosigning it with the caps-lock on. Much the same happened five months later, when Twisted Teens surprise-released Florida Water Blues (OK, The Blue Album), an absurdist take on their various wanderings around the world, from the icy havens up north to the fetid swamps far below.
Why did people suddenly latch onto Twisted Teens, two guys who had been so far outside of the punk and indie rock industries for so long they come now with very strong opinions about said things? Well, there was that sound, sticky and warm, even when they were bunching up the blues inside of it, the way that Caspian’s life-pocked voice slipped against RJ’s surrealist steel shapes like lotion against an old scab. What’s more, though these songs sounded simple in the same way that early rock ’n’ roll or real American folk music did, they offered relatable stories in a language all their own, much like early rock ’n’ roll or real American folk music did. Elizabeth Cotten was a poet, Chuck Berry and Professor Longhair, too. Caspian’s songs were more real than precious, in the way of those predecessors. Sound met song without meeting much bullshit along the way, apart from the stories Caspian and RJ sometimes chose to share about themselves.
So this brings us, at long last, to the main event, to Twisted Teens’ moment of selling out to the big, bad indie rock machine, to their Sub Pop debut, Holy Cross Tigers, or The Burgundy Album. Sorry to disappoint the skeptics, but these 13 songs were written and recorded in much the same way as their predecessors. RJ lives behind Caspian’s house now, but Caspian is the early riser. He’ll get out of bed, play the guitar until he finds a riff that feels good, put down a drum machine line, and play guitar and bass over it until the tune starts to lock into place. When RJ has finally found his first cup of coffee, and if he’s not off near the Arctic, he sits down and responds with his steel. The condenser mic goes above the kit, the podcast mic in the kick—real big-money stuff these days, going down in Holy Cross.
