Over the past decade, Will Toledo has done the opposite of what helped him build a solid fan base early in his career. As an artist under the moniker Car Seat Headrest, Toledo released 11 albums over four years and was quickly snatched up by Matador. The record label milked a lot out of his early output, as Teens of Style comprises reworked older material. In addition, Toledo was able to re-record his lo-fi masterpiece Twin Fantasy (2011) in 2018, something he had always dreamed of doing once he had the proper resources.
With his first original recording under the new label, Teens of Denial (2016) was everything fans hoped it would be, as it was as funny, intense, and full of angst. By the time he was ready record new material, things got overindulgent, as Toledo had a full backing band and played instruments less (even though he originally recorded all of the music himself) and began wearing a gas mask and hazmat suit for his stage persona “Trait”, which he believed allowed him to share with the audience more freely.
Making a Door Less Open (2020) followed suit, as it followed the path forged by 1 Trait Danger, the side-project of band members Will Toledo and Andrew Katz, who began exploring genres like dubstep, hip-hop, and soul. The record included a trade-off on vocals and different versions of some of the same songs. The critical reception was all over the map, not surprising given their experimental approach.
With that backdrop, fans (assuming they are still tuned in) would expect some boundary pushing from Car Seat Headrest, and that is precisely what they get with the rock opera The Scholars. As a conceptual statement, the record is adequate, but a number of tracks, including portions of suites that extend beyond ten minutes, hit with the immediacy we have some to expect from Toledo and company.
Like so many works of fantasy, The Scholars brings together magic and academia. It’s hard to make heads or tails of the interwoven stories that apparently interconnect. One aspect is the fictional college campus of Parnassus University, originally founded by a playwright to whom the character Beolco to Devereaux feels a spiritual connection. Devereaux was also born to religious conservatives, for what it’s worth. Then there is Rosa, who studies at the medical school and accidentally resurrects a patient. From then on, she must contend with her powers made manifest by the spirits visiting her at night. It’s a labyrinth of a tale that could just as easily take away from the music as lend to it.
Car Seat Headrest have found vast sources of inspiration, creating a world filled with music, poetry, and cartoon designs made by Toledo’s friend Cate Wurtz. However, they have also returned to some original sources of inspiration, particularly the Who and David Bowie. The phenomenal “Lady Gay Approximately” keeps a consistent vocal delivery but shifts characters and perspectives. The acoustic structure, with chord progressions that increase in intensity, brings forth the nostalgic tones found on Tommy.
“Reality” channels Ziggy Stardust-era David Bowie in several ways, including the guest vocals from guitarist Ethan Ives, the glam rock solo, and lyrics filled with interplanetary longing: “You said you’d take me away on a starship / But baby, why’d you have to wait so long?” These reference points work well yet capture a contemporary spirit, making the details of the rock opera seem ancillary.
Car Seat Headrest primarily earned acclaim due to their ingenuity, but even on a record that’s this ambitious, they simplified their range of influences. A big reason is that Car Seat Headrest has become more egalitarian as a band over the past five years. Toledo described how he felt his solo project was in pieces, but the outside forces forced him to rely on this inner circle. He said, “We’ve really been leaning into that sort of cocoon that started off with the pandemic years and just turned into this special space that we were creating all on our own.” The fact that the LP was self-produced and recorded in analog shows how Toledo regained control but also did away with the affectation.
The Scholars really shines when the group show their musical chops. They are firing on all cylinders throughout the record, but that can especially be heard on certain tracks like the Ramones-inspired punk rocker “The Catastrophe (Good Luck With That, Man)”. In the lead single “Gethsemane”, the rhythmic bass, surging guitar, and rolling drums all culminate in a rousing climax, which is punctuated by Toledo repeating the line “If you love again, you can try again”. That phrase becomes a mantra, as it gets a callback on the epic “Planet Desperation”, a number that moves between the Beach Boys and Bowie until it reaches another stratosphere.
If a good fantasy novel is a quality work of fiction at its core, the same can be said for a rock opera as it relates to a rock and roll album. The story that’s told only resonates if it’s delivered through the right musical vessel. Here, while the tale is somewhat involved (nowhere near as basic as two star-crossed lovers or some slacker named Joe), the band simplifies matters and hits all the right notes. Car Seat Headrest displayed so much potential a decade ago, only to get lost in some onanistic impulses, which could have happened here. Instead, this tight-knit collective leans into what they do best: take listeners on a messy but enlightening rock and roll journey.