Whine de Lune
CD out of Stock. Available Digitally.
With her high-lonesome warble, and trademark slide-guitar mojo, Melissa Swingle sings sweet songs of love, but also delivers the goods to satisfy your dark side.
Have you ever been down south in August? It's 102 degrees and the moss is practically sweating. The kudzu is burying the rusting hulks of abandoned cars by the roadside. Everything is moving just a little bit slower. Trailer Bride makes you feel it.
On Whine De Lune, Trailer Bride have perfected their spooky, stompy, swampy country; the kind of sound that could only come out of North Carolina. With her high-lonesome warble, and trademark slide-guitar mojo, Melissa Swingle sings sweet songs of love, but also delivers the goods to satisfy your dark side. This time around they add some fresh sounding psychedelic era guitar fuzz, clunky banjos and more creepy saw playing. And with songs about snakes, suicide, car wrecks and strippers, you've got yourself the bona fide definition of the perfect Southern record.
The 11 originals unfold with the sick gothic grandeur of a Flannery O'Connor collection. Tunes like "Working on the Railroad" and "Dirt Nap" spin hard-luck stories of pretty girls gone to seed who take to death like they're biting into an overripe peach. The eerie, clunky "Too Many Snakes" will get you to clogging and the punk rock revival energy of "Pasture" will make you re-think that next burger-remember, that cow would go after you first if it had the chance. And if one of the dancers from the "Clermont Hotel" is eyeballing you, you'd best drop your beer and head for the parking lot. Remember, she may have a sweet smile and a voice like blackberry syrup, but she just might have her last lover buried under the porch steps.
Come round after the sun goes down and sit a while on the porch with us. Once the moon starts gleaming through the pines, Trailer Bride's gonna conjure up the ghosts of music past and sing out like the chorus at a Southern gothic cathedral.
Work on the Railroad