Weak Trees release Animal – a story of trust, winter, and music

19/11/2025 50

A raw winter memory, a song, and the heartbeat of a four-legged friend.

There’s something about a dog’s paw resting on a human hand that always gets me. Maybe it’s the trust. Or that strange honesty only an animal can pull out of you. Weak Trees and their latest single Animal carry a certain warmth from the first look at the artwork, a white paw stacked over human hands like a promise in the cold. I stared at it longer than usual, letting it tell its own story.

Weak Trees. They’re Juuso and Joonas Heiskanen, plus Antti Erola holding down the bass. A Finnish trio from the Nurmijärvi – Klaukkala region, shaped by cold woods, loud amps, and that wonderfully gritty mix of rock, grunge, and alternative slap. This one though – Animal – carries a different kind of weight.

A snowy forest, a campfire trap, and a dog named Elvis

I read their story before diving into the track. A winter night thick with snow, a sled full of firewood, and a favorite campsite called Loossi. Already dark, already drunk, already knee-deep in trouble. They were trying to start a fire while the snowfall turned from “romantic” to “are you fucking kidding me?” A proper Finnish evening, if you ask me.

One of them wandered off in the blizzard looking for dry bark – half explorer, half beer-fueled optimist – and found a rotten birch stump. Perfect. Victory. Except by the time he finished ripping the bark, the snow had erased every footprint back to camp. A clean white slate, no way home.

I’ve been lost before – not literally buried in snow, but lost in ways that you don’t wanna know. And there’s always that tiny moment where your brain freezes. A flicker of “ah, great.”

Then comes the hero of this story: Elvis the dog. Charging through the storm, tail-powered GPS, barking, licking, leading and so on. Just a dog doing what dogs do. And honestly, reading that, I got it. I understood exactly why a night like this would turn into a song called Animal.

A guitar like a crack in the ice

The track opens with a raw guitar riff. Lean and tense – the kind that gives your spine a small nudge forward. It carries the swagger of someone with a half-frozen smile, walking through heavy snow. When the chorus hits, the energy breaks loose, almost like the moment Elvis appears from the white.

The lyrics circle the same feeling from that night: “Where am I now / I might be lost / But I’m not freaking out”. There’s trust sitting between the lines, trust in the one who finds you. Trust in the creature that never questions your mess. And the repetition of “It’s you you you I’m counting on” works like a heartbeat.

Somewhere in the middle of listening, I caught myself thinking of my own moments of leaning on something simple. A dog. A person. Or a memory. Later, the song shifts: Can’t stay for a long / Wind the yarn, life’s hanging on / And now you’re gone / Who’s telling where to run”.

That part hit like an unexpected winter. The tone changes – still strong, still alive, but carrying the silence that arrives after a dog passes. Anyone who ever lost one knows that silence. Probably it’s the only sound heavier than snow.

––– More Rock Stories Here –––

Saying goodbye without saying too much

When the line “You were like a son” came up, I felt that familiar pressure behind the ribs. Then the farewell: “Hey yea bye bye animal.” I went back to the cover art after hearing the full track. That paw, those hands. Suddenly it felt like a symbol, a memory frozen in a grainy photo.

Weak Trees managed to capture something very simple and real. And I like when a track does that, leaving space for my own thoughts while carrying the weight of someone else’s story. That’s me all the time.

Now I want to see you – what’s your path? Who’s guiding you these days? If you ever need company on your own life-winter, follow these guys on their Facebook, Instagram, Spotify, or YouTube. Let them know their song pulled a memory out of you, or walked beside you for a few minutes. Artists breathe on that.