In the Presence of Sleepy Sun at Emo's [Show Review]

Image of Sleepy Sun by Brandon Moore

Within indie rock's current landscape, San Francisco psych-magpies Sleepy Sun are an anomaly. Their swirling jams exhibit impressive range; they can sound like stoned blues-rockers one minute, then tear a song apart with titanic metal-leaning riffage before the pieces gently come down into something like damaged freak-folk. This often happens within the same song. It's not unusual for Sleepy Sun to stretch out a jam for 10+ minutes live, enveloping the listener within dynamics peaking with heavy-hitting hard-rock on one end of the spectrum, and quiet passages carried only by lead singer Bret Constantino's vocals and minimal accoutrement at the other. They seem to distort time, as well, capable of carrying a song along at a speed-freak pace and then slowing it down into sludgy groove. There are a whole lot of bands they can remind you of, from Blacks Sabbath, Black Mountain and The Black Angels to Pentangle or even Led Zeppelin, kinda. This eclectic diversity separates Sleepy Sun from a gaggle of other bands looking to '70s psych and prog rock for influence, and though on record they don't exert quite the same lordly command over a song, live, it is evident in spades.

They even have a piano ballad or two up their sleeves; e.g. the achingly beautiful "Lord", which was captivating on Monday night at what I guess is now just called Emo's (it was the inside stage). Sleepy Sun have presence: to see them live is to surrender yourself to the kind of tribal, ego-less experience that so often gets compared to a drug trip. And you could be forgiven for feeling high just being there, though a quieter venue like the Parish might suit them better than Emo's, which is always like 20% populated by people who are just there to see what's happening at Emo's on _____ night. As such, there was somewhat more chatter than you'd typically want at this kind of show, and the room didn't come to focus on one point for a while.

Nevertheless, Sleepy Sun delivered a hard-hitting, engrossing performance, sprinkling in a couple of new songs to complement standouts from 2009's Embrace and last year's Fever. Epic jams like "White Dove", "New Age" and "Sandstorm Woman" unfurled with a patient, random incomprehensibility, as if they were in thrall to a divine plan, the wide-eyed and commanding Constantino its prophet. He roamed the stage with swagger, occasionally breaking out in a cool shimmy, or sung with both arms draped over the microphone, eyes intently fixed on a point just behind the audience. His black-and-red shirt had a pattern that can only be described as "New Mexican." Harmonica and voice box were sometimes employed, lending a piercing, desert-fried quality that well-suited the miasma of blues, psych and folk being conjured by his four band mates. By the end of the night, the audience was feeling it as a whole, as people danced with arms raised, slowly bobbed their heads, or just chilled way, way out, content to surrender to Sleepy Sun's absorbing catch-and-release.

Sleepy Sun: [official]