One of the more peculiar things about music is how it can transport you—not just physically to a place, but emotionally to an entire chapter of your life. Now, imagine yourself lying on a sun-drenched beach, steel drums playing softly in the background, when suddenly, The High Plains Drifters’ latest single, “Summer Girl (Redux),” begins to play. You think you’re about to be whisked away into a world of carefree, sun-kissed bliss, but soon you realize you’ve been tricked. What you thought was going to be a romantic escape quickly turns into a deep dive into the murky waters of summer love, the kind that leaves you with more than just a tan.
Larry Studnicky, the band’s lead singer, croons with a voice that sounds as if Johnny Cash went on vacation, picked up a margarita, and decided to sing about all the times he’d been wronged in love. It’s a voice filled with the kind of wisdom that only comes from having been burned a few too many times, yet there’s a wit to it—an awareness that, yes, this is all ridiculous, and no, we’re not above it. We’re all just out here, hoping to find love under the palm trees, and more often than not, coming back with nothing but a lousy T-shirt and a broken heart.
The song, at first, lulls you into a false sense of security with its tropical rock vibe. Steel drums tinkling, waves gently crashing—everything’s in place for a perfect summer romance. But as the melody progresses, you begin to notice that something isn’t quite right. The rhythm is just a little too laid-back, the beat just a touch too melancholy, and suddenly, you realize: this isn’t the feel-good anthem you thought it was. It’s a meditation on the fleeting nature of love, the kind of love that makes promises it has no intention of keeping.
In the music video for “Summer Girl (Redux),” this narrative is taken to new heights—or perhaps depths. We follow a middle-aged man as he drifts through a series of dreamlike encounters with his past loves. Each one is set against a lush, tropical backdrop, the kind of setting you’d expect from a James Bond flick or a Jimmy Buffett concert. But this is no celebration. Instead, it’s a sobering reflection on the ghosts of relationships past, a reminder that paradise is often more mirage than reality.
And yet, the song doesn’t leave you completely downhearted. There’s an infectious beat, a hook that sticks with you long after the music fades. It’s the kind of tune that finds you when you least expect it, tapping into that part of your brain reserved for memories of summer flings and what-might-have-beens. It’s as if The High Plains Drifters are saying, “We know this story all too well, but isn’t it worth revisiting, if only for a moment?”
So, where does this leave us? Listening to “Summer Girl (Redux),” you might find yourself pondering the nature of love—real, imagined, or otherwise. Is paradise found in the embrace of another, or is it just another fleeting illusion, slipping through your fingers like sand? The High Plains Drifters don’t give us a clear answer, but they do invite us along for the ride. And what a ride it is, full of twists, turns, and just enough sun to leave you longing for more, even if you know better by now.
Claire Uebelacker