Summer knows how to sting. Not like Winter, that drives its icy needles right through your skin until it hits bone, seizing your joints. No, Summer is more subtle, but no less effective. Summer blurs, sending ripples through the atmosphere. It blinds with a white, hot, disorientating light coming at you from all sides, so no matter where you turn it’s right there in your eyes. Summer breathes a slow, slightly laboured breath, heavy with the scent of heat and humidity. In a word, Summer rocks.
The sting of this marvelous season comes from how it’s over too soon, just like Weird Lines’ debut self-titled LP. Weird Lines is the sound of my summer, guitar buzzing like pissed off cicadas, bass as heavy as the days are long, harmonies bright and effervescent the way I imagine sunshine would bubble and sparkle if you liquified it and sold it in bottles.
Soaked in the swampy charms of New Brunswick and ignited by nights around campfires, “Fade In My Heart” blazes Weird Lines to life, sticky with Chris Meany’s sax licks. “Between the Lamppost (You and I)”, raw like an excessively scratched mosquito bite, bristles with abrasiveness and big guitars. “Summer Can” takes a kick at updating that unmistakable 90s Maritime monster rock sound. Julie Doiron and C.L. McLaughlin’s swooning harmonies kiss your ears with bitter lips, while James Anderson and Jon McKiel incite the happiest of dances.
Seduced by the seaside sway of a song like “Malibu”, it’s easy to convince yourself summer’s gonna last forever. Time moves on, though, and seasons will change, but Weird Lines will always be on the shelf, ready for a quick spin around the turntable to rock and warm the coldest of winter nights.
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