As cliché as it sounds, the summer really is the time to party. You toil all week boxed up in a little cubicle, or slaving away in a sweltering warehouse, or dealing with incompetent retail customers. When the weekend comes around, there’s no better feeling than letting it all loose. Sure, the summer isn’t strictly for explosive social gatherings, and parties happen all year round, but the summer party is its own beast entirely. The beauty of the season is that no matter when or where, there’s something going down. It’s just a matter of whether you want to accept that invitation or not. These songs are snippets of 7 radically different but equally exciting summer celebrations, because when the sun is out and the weather is nice, there’s bound to be a good time somewhere.

         Dusk falls on a hot July day, and somewhere there is a party, but you don’t know where. You pile in the car with your friends and rip down the highway, racing the sinking sun towards the perfect night. The electric atmosphere makes no guarantees, other than the promise that there is a destination, and it’ll be wild. Anxiety is overridden by adrenaline; the burning steel of the car becoming a compass towards reckless abandonment. “Blow Up” by The Beaches is a raucous piece of punk that hungers for the irresponsible. The song blazes through parties and destinations, vying for the ultimate objective of something new and unbelievable. The destination of the summer party couldn’t be achieved without the journey, the lighting of a fuse that leads to an explosive catharsis that you probably won’t remember tomorrow morning. “Blow Up” captures all the simmering energy of the calm before the storm, excitement on the cusp of explosion.

         The afternoon sun skips across the calm waters of the lake and in the expansive backyard of a Muskoka cottage, there is a party. Somebody’s Uncle is manning the grill and he’s finishing up the 8^th serving of burgers for the group. Regardless of gender, everybody present is “one of the guys” for the afternoon. The smell of charcoal and beer mingle with the fresh scent of the forest. No matter who you talk to, someone always has a story of how they know your dad. Nathaniel Rateliff’s ode to alcohol, “S.O.B.,” captures the laid-back unruliness of the afternoon. The song reeks of sweat and booze, but its boisterous energy overrides any semblance of negativity. The cottage party is hot, sweaty, and uncomfortable and by the end you’re so stuffed with beer and meat that the idea of walking again becomes nauseating. However, it possesses a potent rowdiness, and despite the roughness it’s near impossible not to find yourself moving along to the infectious rustic beat of the cottage party.

         On a Manhattan rooftop on a cloudless summer day in the late 80s, there is a party. The blazing sun heats up the pavement so much you can feel the rubber soles of your sneakers beginning to melt. The party is elite, only the coolest of the cool have made it to the roof. As much as you want to convince yourself otherwise, you relish in the exclusivity of it all, it feels good to be at the top. Next to the chips, sending ripples through the punch bowl is a boom box the size of a 10-year-old child. “A Year and a Day” by the Beastie Boys blasts from the summer sky and rains upon passerby below. MCA’s confident delivery of the song’s blistering lyrics confirms to everyone in attendance that this roof is the top of the world. The rooftop party is above all else, arrogant. But between the bumping music, the distinction among its crowd, and the location hundreds of feet among those below, maybe some of that arrogance is granted.

         In the dark basement of a nightclub, there is a party. Dozens of bodies are cast in shadow, forming one shapeless mass of sweat and skin. You sway back and forth, governed by bass and synth rather than cognitive thought. Faces and names melt into deep hues of blue and purple that wash over you, you give yourself up to the pulse of the night. “Light House” by Future Islands plays like the heartbeat of the nightclub. Smooth and catchy, but somber. What it lacks in anthemic qualities, it makes up for in intimacy, depicting the type of love that can only emerge in the dark, sticky recesses of the dancefloor. The psychedelia of dance runs deep and pulls people towards one another in a strobe-light induced hypnosis. The thumping kaleidoscopic groove of “Light House” is the dripping heart and soul of the summer club night, something that draws you into an utterly new world of color and movement.

         All across the city, there are parties, dozens of them. You jump from party to party, stepping from the intoxicating haze of the nightclub to the claustrophobic heat of the bar to the turbulent crowds of a concert. The night whips you back and forth, and as you chart your course across the urban sprawl, the city breathes to life. “All I Want” by LCD Soundsystem is the sound of the city’s nocturnal revival. A fusion of genres, “All I Want” is equal parts reckless youth and existential dread. It’s this balancing act that transforms the city from a mosaic of activity to a blur of light and sound. The expanse of the city unfurls itself through the figure of the party, and you can’t help but take it all in, enduring all of the beauty and the misery that comes with it.

         Down in somebody’s unfinished basement amid mousetraps and spilled detergent, there is a party. You’re there because your friend knows a guy who knows a guy who knows another guy, and the vibes are interesting. The exposed lightbulbs cast shadows on the insulation in the walls, the pong table is held together by duct tape and a dream. You’re pretty sure you saw not one, not two, but four separate people with eyepatches. Despite the numerous safety hazards, there’s something magnetic about the grime. “Punk Rock Loser” from Viagra Boys is a song birthed from crushed solo cups and mysterious stains. Its snide filthiness presents a scuzzy, antagonistic vibe. It screams ‘bad news,’ but you can’t help but be intrigued anyways. The basement party is a gamble, but sometimes you have no choice but to adventure to its dingy underbelly anyways, because despite the grunge, the uneasiness, and what are definitely cockroaches on that wall, it’s just so confoundingly cool.

         Somewhere, a party ends. You lie your head against the backseat of your Uber, hoping dearly that the nighttime air can sober you up enough for you to operate your apartment keys correctly. The night was fun, at least from what you remember, which is minimal. “Inside Out” by Spoon is the sound of the  aftermath, before the morning after. Spoon lulls you to rest, a blurry slideshow of good times flickering behind closed eyes. The hangover might be brutal, you might have said something you’ll regret in the morning, you definitely should not have texted that one person (you know the one), but right now that doesn’t matter. Much like the summer itself, the summer party is fleeting and just when you get on its groove, it’s over, but there’s comfort in that ending. Maybe the best part of the booze, and the dancing, and the excitement is that it ends, and it makes way for a morning of something new entirely. As dawn begins to peek through the purple sky, your exhaustion and melancholy give way to an entirely new emotion, hope. The knowledge that things can be good, or bad, but no matter what, you get to try again tomorrow.

Have a great summer!

Tracklist

Blow Up – The Beaches

S.O.B – Nathaniel Rateliff & The Night Sweats

B-Boy Bouillabaisse: A Year and  a Day – Beastie Boys

Light House – Future Islands

All I Want – LCD Soundsystem

Punk Rock Loser – Viagra Boys

Inside Out – Spoon