With roots in the rolling hills of the inland west, there’s a weird ag land vibe that comes along with the Lights cold, clanky rock and roll. Like they’re from a town that wasn’t close enough to anywhere big that when they got to see shows, they were highlights of the year, and they were remembered. That they live in Seattle now doesn’t really have much bearing on anything, other than the fact that they play most of their shows there. To me, the Lights are Palouse band. Or maybe even a Boise band, which is where they moved after they left home. Not exactly a tactical move, but a move that shows who their people were and where the bands they affiliated with lived. That was back in the 90s, before the Lights, when they were called the Left Coast and when they had a fourth member, Sean Lennon.
The Lights are a band whose songs always have an instant classic kind of feel. It comes from bizarre and insanely sticky lyrics. Rhymes for days, and a cadence, or creep that rock bands just generally aren’t able to pull off. That and the fact that the Lights don’t change up what they do. Ever. They refine it. They make it seem more effortless. They add another tower on the castle.
Three LPs and a handful of EPs in, and after a decade, it doesn’t appear that the Lights are going to do anything but ripen with old age.