Listening to this album made me imagine my Dad careering around the streets of suburbia in his Vauxhall Viva modified with twin carbs; me in the back seat barely secured to the hot, faux leather vinyl that passed as a bench seat, him with his brown Aviators, 'tash, flared trousers and mop of hair blowing in the wind. Then I remembered he was more into Meat Loaf at the time and the daydream was shattered. Although lyrically, teenage kicks is still relevant today and the album as a whole was not unenjoyable if a little repetitive towards the end, I think this will end up forgotton, like a rusting car with Teenage Kicks as the singular component rescued and remembered in a museum of classics.