Have you ever been down south in August? Its 102 degrees and the moss is practically sweating. 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 sociopath buddies down in the Bloodshot bunker. This time around they add some fresh sounding psychedelic era guitar fuzz, clunky banjos and the requisite 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.
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.
"Even before singer Melissa Swingle opens her mouth, Trailer Bride sounds fresher, stranger, more contemporary than virtually all its contemporaries... mischievous playfulness, fear of death, hunger for sex and love of music tangle together into the sort of gloriously complicated epiphany I'd forgotten country music could manage." Glen Hirshberg, LA Weekly
"Their assets include... an instinctual approach to diverse arrangements that one minute soar in classic high-lonesome style, then seem as haunted as a midnight traipse through the burial ground." Fred Mills, Puncture
"Execution-wise, Swingle and her bandmates perform with a kind of minimalist, ramshackle abandon... [and] if the fiction of Eudora Welty or Flannery O'Connor were ever made into film, her compositions would make a fine soundtrack." Russell Hall, Wall of Sound
"Give me the hard-bitten moxie of Polly Harvey and the slow-burning twang of Lucinda Williams, and three guys to stand up straight. That's Trailer Bride." Scott Holter, Seattle Weekly