Cover albums are always weird little artifacts. They’re not quite nostalgia, not quite reinvention, but something awkwardly in between, like borrowing someone else’s clothes and hoping people compliment you on your taste. Weezer’s infamous Teal Album proved that if you lean hard enough into karaoke-level sincerity, you can make an entire generation simultaneously roll their eyes and say, “Fine, that was fun.” Teenbird’s second record, Beauty of the Wisdom, is very much in that camp, except instead of sounding like a dad band locked in a Guitar Center after hours, it feels like the kind of band James Gunn would casually shove into Peacemaker to soundtrack John Cena beating someone up with a trash can.
This is a ten-track set of songs Teenbird openly loves, performed with a mix of reverence, recklessness, and garage-band scrappiness. Founder Mário Hailer Jr. describes Teenbird as a project free of “commercial pressure or filters,” and that independence really shows here. They’re not chasing perfect fidelity or re-engineering these classics for TikTok edits. They’re just blasting through the rock canon they adore, flaws and all.
The opener, “Beauty of the Wisdom,” is the lone “original” cut; or rather, a reworking of one of their own songs from an earlier release. If that sounds like cheating, it’s actually kind of charming: before diving into nine tributes, Teenbird reminds you they do, in fact, exist outside of karaoke. The track itself lands somewhere between mid-period Foo Fighters and the last song of the night at your favorite dive, loud and heartfelt, with no concern for subtlety.
Then comes the Everest: Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believin’.” And here’s the thing, everyone covers this song. Weddings, karaoke nights, that one uncle with an acoustic guitar. But Teenbird leans into the corniness rather than trying to “out-epic” Journey. Their version is rougher, noisier, but it carries that strange sincerity that transforms cliché into catharsis. It’s less Steve Perry’s operatic reach and more a group of friends yelling together at last call.
“When It’s Done” is a moodier pivot, taking cues from post-punk rather than pure arena rock. The bones of the original (a deep cut with a cult following) are still intact, but Teenbird drags it into Joy Division territory, giving the bass line teeth and letting the vocals wobble between desperation and defiance. It’s one of the few tracks where they sound like they’re trying to make the song “theirs,” and it works.
Their cover of “Watch Me Fly” feels like the album’s sleeper hit. Originally a glossy, optimistic rocker, Teenbird dials it down just enough to let the chorus soar without feeling saccharine. It’s the kind of performance where you can hear how much they wish they’d written it themselves.
“Staying in Black,” yes, is their AC/DC moment. And no, the title’s not a typo. It’s exactly what you think: a tongue-in-cheek tweak of “Back in Black,” played almost straight but with enough winks to let you know they’re in on the joke. The vocals don’t quite rasp like Brian Johnson, but the guitars hit the pocket, and it’s the kind of cover that dares you not to grin.
Iron Maiden’s “Caught Somewhere in Time” is probably the boldest choice here. Maiden’s version is a seven-minute gallop through sci-fi grandeur; Teenbird’s is shorter, scrappier, but weirdly endearing, like hearing your cousin’s band have a go at prog-metal. It’s not perfect; the tempo wobbles, the vocals don’t go full operatic, but it captures the thrill of trying. Which, honestly, is the point.
“Battle Hymn” lands as the emotional centerpiece. Unlike “Don’t Stop Believin’” or “Staying in Black,” this one is played almost entirely straight. Teenbird’s version treats the original with almost religious reverence, layering guitars and vocals until it sounds like a rallying cry.
And then there’s the overarching vibe: this whole record feels like if the Peacemaker soundtrack bands (Wig Wam, Quireboys, Hanoi Rocks) got handed Weezer’s Teal Album and told, “Make this louder, make it sillier, but also mean it.” The result is both hilarious and kind of brilliant. The joy of Beauty of the Wisdom isn’t that every cover is perfect; they’re not. It’s that Teenbird performs them with a mix of devotion and recklessness that makes you forget perfection was ever the point.
By the time the album ends, you’re not marveling at their technical chops or nitpicking the fidelity to the originals. You’re remembering why you fell in love with these songs in the first place. Teenbird taps into the communal, ridiculous joy of rock ’n’ roll: loud guitars, overblown choruses, voices straining to hit impossible notes.
Beauty of the Wisdom is not going to change the world. It’s not reinventing rock. But it is fun; fun in the way shouting along to “Don’t Stop Believin’” at 1 a.m. is fun, fun in the way AC/DC riffs will never stop being fun, fun in the way cover albums only work when the band believes every word. And Teenbird clearly does. In the end, this is less an album than a mixtape from a friend who really, really wants you to understand why rock still matters to them. And sometimes, that’s enough.
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About the Author
A tenured media critic known working as a ghost writer, freelance critic for various publications around the world, the former lead writer of review blogspace Atop The Treehouse and content creator for Manila Bulletin.
