“Summer Girl (Redux)” by The High Plains Drifters

“Summer Girl (Redux)” by The High Plains Drifters is like a piña colada with a twist of regret, a tropical cocktail that goes down smooth but leaves you with a bitter aftertaste—much like the fleeting nature of summer love. Now, if you’ve ever been trapped in a summer fling, you’ll know it’s all palm trees, warm breezes, and the sweet sting of sunburn that sneaks up on you. You think you’re in paradise, but there’s a thunderstorm brewing somewhere off the coast, ready to sweep it all away before you’ve even finished your drink.

The song itself? It’s deceptively laid-back. Think of it like you’re lying on a hammock, watching the sunset, with a cold drink in hand—except the hammock snaps just when you’re starting to relax. Larry Studnicky, with vocals that sound like he’s just smoked a cigarette after reminiscing about his sixth failed romance, leads us through this romantic battlefield with the weariness of someone who’s seen it all before. His voice drips with irony, the kind of irony that says, “I’ve been burned, but what’s one more time in the grand scheme of things?”

Musically, it’s all breezy steel drums and that intoxicating beat that convinces you to put on your sandals and dance like no one’s watching, even though you know better. The steel drums are like those glossy vacation brochures—tempting you with promises of endless fun but conveniently leaving out the part where you’ll get stung by a jellyfish and lose your wallet. The beat is infectious, but underneath, there’s that sardonic bite, like a mosquito buzzing in your ear just when you’re about to enjoy yourself. It’s a juxtaposition that shouldn’t work, but somehow does, like a clown at a funeral. You’re entertained, but also deeply unsettled.

And then there’s the video. Ah, the video. It’s like someone mashed up James Bond with Jimmy Buffett, shook it all up, and poured it over ice. Lars Skaland, the director, has taken this already bittersweet song and elevated it into a sun-drenched, middle-aged fever dream. You’ve got this guy—our protagonist—who’s clearly been through the emotional wringer. Every woman in his past is like a mirage, shimmering in the heat, and just when he thinks he’s got her, poof, she’s gone. Femme fatales, ex-wives, fleeting flings—they’re all there, representing the chapters of his life where hope was as high as the beach waves, but reality was always waiting to crash down.

By the end of the video, our guy’s lost just about everything—except the will to try again, which, if you ask me, is either deeply inspiring or completely masochistic. He’s got nothing left but love and a battered heart that still, somehow, keeps ticking. It’s romantic in a way only those who’ve been repeatedly kicked in the teeth by romance can truly appreciate.

So, there you have it: “Summer Girl (Redux)”—a tropical escapade with all the sun, sand, and sting you could ever want. It’s the song you’ll hum as you pack your bags, knowing full well you’re leaving with a sunburn and nothing else.

Nicole Killian