There are few bands I hold as close to my heart as the Weeks. Though they hit my radar just four years ago through an old boyfriend, they’ve managed to nudge out countless of other old favorites and their songs have rooted deep in my soul.
Since discovering them in college, I’ve ditched the boyfriend but kept the band. Being of a similar age to the members, I feel like I have matured with them. And it’s really cool to see a band grow physically and musically.
I remember seeing them live for the first time – I was so in love with what I heard on their albums that I drove nine hours to Nashville for their release show for Dear Bo Jackson. Back then they were a group of guys just out of their teens, and their music reflected the woes and wisdom of adolescents growing up in the South. As someone who has spent a large portion of her own childhood in the South, and the rest in the rural Midwest, I’ve always felt a strong connection to a lot of the themes they’ve expressed in their lyrics. While it was Dallas and Northern Illinois for me (and not Jackson, Mississippi), a lot of the sentiments remain the same: a yearning to get out, to see more, while simultaneously harboring a pride for your place of birth so steadfast that you can feel it running through your veins.
Their music itself harks back to sounds that are familiar, but sometimes forgotten. It’s reminiscent of older county rock and rhythm and blues that is soulful and has the ability to make a crowd jump and dance. It’s not a mystery that they’re signed to King’s of Leon’s boutique label, Serpents and Snakes. While some denounce this familiarity as unoriginal, let this not be mistaken for a manufactured sound – the Weeks are far from it. Their story-telling lyrics and mix of high-energy anthems and slow-it-down ballads (Slave to the South is one of my absolute favorites) bring with them a nostalgia of youth, of the South, of friends and family.
All in all, they’re just some guys from down South trying to figure things out with a musical punch. And man – what a band to see live. They want you to have fun – they certainly do. And, if judging from Cyle’s eyes rolling to the back of his head many a times during their set, it’s something bordering on a religious experience for them. And it’s contagious.