Summer Fades Away - Endless

A Closer Listen

Changsha, China post-rockers Summer Fades Away released their first album in 2011 and their second in 2012, with an expansive sound that was often compared to that of MONO.  But just as the quintet seemed ready to explode to the next level, they disappeared.  Thirteen years later they have returned, having gained wisdom and experience while not missing a musical beat.  Fittingly, their comeback album is titled Endless.

Much has happened in China in the last thirteen years.  The nation has risen in power on the world’s stage, with an acceleration in trade, technology and growth, and the hosting of both the Summer and Winter Olympics.  “Ne Jha 2” is the biggest film on earth this year, demonstrating the power of the arts. The phrase “the storms of a changing nation,” found in the liner notes, seems apt, with post-rock a perfect mirror.  It’s hard to ignore the military snares of the opener, which rises gently from quiet origins, growing to a massive wall of sound, the major shift arriving at 3:58.  But after that point, the track possesses a dual nature: both threatening and triumphant.  One might call “Juen Yui” a storm or the reflection of a storm, its pent-up energy releasing in surge after surge, leaving the listener enervated and eager for more.

“Guansha Ridge” bursts right out of the gate, extending the high energy of the set.  This is a good time to mention that the average length of these tracks is eight minutes, the first two tracks alone taking up twenty.  This is exactly what post-rock fans want, and it’s clear that Summer Fades Away knows how to please a crowd; they are currently in the midst of a 21-city tour, unfortunately (for global fans) only in their native land.  Not until mid-piece does “Guansha Ridge” break down to a thoughtful interlude, during which the piano gives way to violin and a sudden sweetness washes over the piece.  Just as one thinks the track is ending (7:27), a second of silence is followed by fuzz guitar, a barrage of drums and the return of the keyboards.

From this point forward, the album begins to reflect the name of the band, yielding a sense of the ephemeral.  The first hints are the vinyl crackle and title of “At Last, It Fades,” a slow, melancholic transition, followed by “The Withering We Knew” and “The Last Movement.”  One gets the sense that something more than summer may be fading: a way of life, a relationship, innocence or youth.  Late in “The Withering We Knew,” more than halfway through the album, sparse lyrics appear for the first time, riding on a bed of strings.  The final couplet: “Little did I know, it was the last refrain. Little did I know, it was our last embrace.”  “The Last Movement” ups the ante with the Hunan New Philharmonic Choral Art Center singing of the flowers that bloom after a tsunami.  In an incredible confluence, an urgent tsunami warning had been issued only a week prior to the album’s release, and since then, the South China Sea Tsunami Advisory Centre opened in Hainan Province.  The waves of post-rock are often compared to tsunamis, and on this track the choir represents the flowers: the aftermath, the unity of the community and the resurrection of hope.

All of these threads combine as the album builds to “Shall I Compare Thee To A Summer’s Day,” inspired by Shakespeare, sporting a similar tone, but with different spoken words.  The relevant line of Sonnet 18: “But thy eternal summer shall not fade” (italics added); with deference to their name, Summer Fades Away seems to lean toward the Endless, as their closing words are “Thank you for walking with me all this time, Up this long slope, I’ll walk it again, And again,” which is incredibly romantic, or tragic, or both, depending on how one receives it.  The music suggests surrender, acceptance, and finally, peace.  Summer may fade away, but the memories remain. (Richard Allen)

Note: In light of the fact that Summer Fades Away, we’ll be taking a week-long August vacation, and will return around August 19.  See you on the flip side!

Fri Aug 08 00:01:08 GMT 2025