London-based sextet Sports Team set their sights on America. Gone is the post-punk of 2020’s Deep Down Happy or 2022’s Gulp! Eager to write Radio 2 pop music, their third album Boys These Days shoots for Bruce Springsteen and settles for somewhere south of Sam Fender. They try to appeal to the masses through broad, State of the World social commentary, but they can’t escape their own irony. Made with producer Matias Tellez (CMAT, girl in red), Boys These Days makes a pivot to warm, radio-friendly rock. It’s pillowy, soft, and non-threatening.
Like previous work from Sports Team, Boys These Days aims for tongue-in-cheek material, but the album spends more time naming problems than actually satirizing them. The band widens their topics of choice from middle-class England to the woes of late-stage capitalism: “Planned Obsolescence” addresses tech enshittification, “Maybe When We’re 30” takes a stab at Facebook and The Daily Mail, “Head to Space” is about fleeing Earth due to climate catastrophe. But these references to modern media slop or tech oligarchy are little more than just that: references. They lack any perspective beyond headline-level recognition of an issue. “IHOP, Venmo, TNT / Mickey Mouse, AR-15 / An Open carry / Don’t say state / Incel, insult, NDA,” frontman Alex Rice lists out on “Bang Bang Bang,” like if Grok tried to write a 21st century “We Didn’t Start the Fire.” The band accompanies these listicle mouthfuls with a Western-style whistlin’ shuffle, turning this supposed satire of American gun culture into a bad gimmick.
“Sensible” is a portrait of a London urbanite who drinks a “crisp Chianti,” speaks in metaphors, and “fucks remotely.” “You’re all so sensibly numb,” Rice sings in the chorus, the heavy-hitting central line in this meek satire. Pointing something out is quite different than having something to say, and the song provides no insight into London’s rich young urbanites that a short walk through Spitalfields won’t already show you. It has no risk; nothing is at stake to make the satire sting. It’s a bit mean to the yuppies, but not enough to make anyone actually reflect on contemporary consumerist culture. If anything in “Sensible” has the proper snarl, it’s the song’s diss towards Fred Again. Though, of course, the band is actually a fan of Fred Again..’s work, so even this stray bullet is hedged in irony. On their old records, Sports Team thrived in the details: they took digs at snobby bands or talked about bad haircuts that looked like a “suburban monk.” Through these details, the band grounded you in their distinctly British ennui. As they expand their scope on Boys These Days, they also lose their expertise. More often than not, they come off like the very yuppies they’re trying to make fun of.
Boys These Days is effective when it blurs the line between sarcasm and soulfulness. Lead single “I’m in Love (Subaru)” is an ode to the most glamorous car imaginable for a bored teenager yearning for escape: the Subaru Impreza. The song glorifies its titular car with a healthy coating of schmaltz: background vocalists harmonize “Su-ba-ru” with eyes-closed seriousness. A saxophone rips across the song. It’s both funny and nostalgic, like re-reading a teenage diary entry 10 years later: totally hyperbolic and a bit lovable. The band admits that “I’m in Love (Subaru)” is almost too reminiscent of a car commercial, but at least they sell it enough to make you actually want to buy the car.
Musically, Boys These Days isn’t too far away from The 1975’s Being Funny in a Foreign Language. It’s loose and languid, covered in horns and harmonies. The songs are inoffensive, but they lack the kineticism and vigor of Sports Team at their best. The title track pokes fun at older generations’ kids-these-days mentalities. With orchestral flourishes and big piano chords, “Boys These Days” could pass for an old Jeff Lynne cut: sugary and approachable. Though lyrically, the chorus’ boys-girls refrain recalls another, more famous Britpop song about boys and girls. “Condensation” is a love letter to the sweaty crowds the band performs to. All that love boils down to Rice belting out “Ooh! Ah! Yeah!” in the chorus, which gets to the point more effectively than half the lyrics on the album.
In interviews around Boys These Days, members of Sports Team have been increasingly honest about their ambitions of stardom: “We’ve always wanted to make incredible pop music, to have people point to us as a massive culture shift.” In a separate interview, Rice admits, “We’ve always been a band that wants to take it to the next level. One that reaches arenas and stadiums.” There’s nothing wrong with ambition or earning a living, especially in a top-heavy industry where once-reliable income sources are disappearing. Still, it raises an eyebrow that Sports Team dwells on the anti-consumerist topic of the day while boasting of inspiring Wet Leg or offering fans the opportunity to shoot them with paintball guns (but only if you buy the album).
Sports Team is playing both sides. At some point, irony is no longer a tool. It’s a defense: don’t take the music seriously enough and you’re missing the point. Take it too seriously, and you’re the “incredibly wealthy craft ale fans” that go to shows by other (more successful) post-punk artists like Fontaines D.C. This is a band that thrives on live, local energy. On Boys These Days, their global outlook—both to address the problems of today and to sell a lot of records—turns away from their strengths.
Andy Steiner is a writer and musician. When he’s not reviewing albums, you can find him collecting ‘80s Rush merchandise. Follow him on Twitter.
