Tegan and Sara Revisit Their Troubled Teenage Rebellion on Hey, I’m Just Like You
Tegan and Sara’s ninth album is a little too slick for its teen angst themes

Tegan and Sara are a legacy act now. No indie rock band has stepped into that role with as much creativity and aplomb as the Quin sisters—songwriters, trailblazers, LGBTQ activists and now avid self-archivists. The shift occurred around the 10th anniversary of The Con, the band’s charged and influential 2007 album, a milestone commemorated with not only an intimate tour but also a curated tribute album featuring the group’s peers. After they’d spent two decades clawing through the indie rock trenches, it was nice to see the twins finally basking in the respect they’d always deserved but not always received.
Now Tegan and Sara are digging even further back in their history. Hey, I’m Just Like You, the sisters’ ninth album, arrives in tandem with a memoir about their fraught high school years titled, appropriately, High School. The album comes with an impossibly alluring origin story: While writing High School, the twins unearthed two “lost cassette tapes that had been unheard for over 20 years.” Those cassettes contained early songs the sisters wrote during the mid-to-late 1990s, when they were self-described teenage dirtbags—skipping school, experimenting with acid, shredding their fingers on their first electric guitar. Now, at 38, they’ve revisited and revised those songs with adult voices and (let’s just assume) a far heftier recording budget. Hey, I’m Just Like You is entirely comprised of those re-recordings.
On these tracks, you can hear Tegan and Sara’s younger selves coming to terms with early relationship experiences, rejection, their own queerness. “Right now, I wish I was older,” Sara sings on “Hello I’m Right Here,” a pining ballad written after she was rejected by a straight-girl crush. The time-capsule quality of the material allows for multiple meanings. When sung by a thirtysomething, the deceptively ebullient “We Don’t Have Fun When We’re Together Anymore” could be a lament for a passionless marriage. In fact, it’s a teenager venting about alienation within one’s own friend group. The tracklist is full of angsty declarative titles like that, would-be lines from a high schooler’s diary: “Keep Them Close ’Cause They Will Fuck You Too,” “I Don’t Owe You Anything,” “Don’t Believe The Things They Tell You (They Lie),” et. al.