WESLYNN drops their single “Love and Let Go”, and listening feels a bit like finding a perfectly preserved cassette tape from 1988 wedged in the glovebox of a surprisingly modern car. Here are Jared Geyer (Vocals, Guitar, Keys, Bass), Greg Olin (Guitar, Mix, Master), and Kevin Holmes (Drums), a trio seasoned by over a decade together, wrestling with that messy, human tangle of connection and detachment.
The sound itself is fascinating. There’s a definite nod to the big sonic landscapes of Peter Gabriel and the heartfelt drive of Springsteen, polished with a contemporary sheen reminiscent of The 1975. Yet, it avoids mere pastiche. The vintage gear Olin mixes in doesn’t just mimic; it evokes. Certain synth lines shimmer with the cool, detached glow of neon on wet pavement – a surprisingly fitting texture for a song about emotional distancing.
And the core message? Oh, it’s the tricky stuff. Loving something, someone, while knowing you might have to sever the cord. It’s about navigating a world where people bump and bruise each other, sometimes deliberately, often just because they’re preoccupied with their own internal static. Geyer’s vocals carry this weight, not with melodrama, but with a kind of weary clarity. The insistence on “letting go” feels less like a command and more like tracing the fault line before the inevitable quake. It reminds me, strangely, of the faint, persistent smell of chlorine after leaving a public pool – the lingering chemical tang of necessary separation.
This isn’t a track that explodes; it unfolds, layering its earnest classic songwriting with production that feels both nostalgic and cleanly current. It’s the sound of hard-won perspective, the trio’s maturity showing not in grand gestures, but in the steady pulse beneath the surface.
So, after the music fades, what remains? Not catharsis, perhaps, but the quiet hum of understanding a difficult truth. When does loving become clinging, and how loud does the inner voice have to shout before we finally heed its warning to release?
