The purgative qualities of the American West, along with its grandeur, beauty, and mystery, are encapsulated in Tucson outfit Weekend Lovers’ debut EP, When U Were Weird. Much like its kinda/sorta namesake Prince song, these six tracks navigate romance, loss and desire in ways that are both painfully relatable and wholly infectious. Opener “Grand Royale” kicks off the album’s dreamy first half, infusing delicate keyboards with that indescribable guitar twang that pulls you out of your seat using only your heartstrings. The soundscape created by instrumentals alone is one that spans beyond imagination, much like the desert scenes among which the record was conceived. And it’s like that for pretty much the whole thing. Frontwoman Marta DeLeon delivers her sermon of longing in her gentle yet forceful soprano, continuing on with the ever blissful, ever dreamy, ever melancholic “Gimme, Gimme.” “Who was I to think I would cry for you?” the chorus asks. “I would lie and you would try for you.” Reverb-filled pop rhythms rocket towards a gorgeous evening horizon, pondering the one(s) that got away with every note. Things get a bit heavier, a bit hairier at the middle’s “Makin’ Boize,” with a driving rhythm and fuzz coming out of its ears. The refrain’s “whoa-whoa’s,” however, keep it flying high. It’s as though a switch is flipped, and they take a (mildly) solemn turn as if to remind the listener of the curative power of song, and why heartache makes for such good songwriting. The closer, “Sex On The Beach,” offers up the best of both worlds, simultaneously upbeat and weighty, and by its end, Weekend Lovers have poured the entire contents of their guts onto floor, making room for the curiosity and hope of the future.
