Photo by Corey Woodruff. More on Flickr
The first thing I noticed at the Sleepy Sun show on Sunday night was that the band is rather large. I feared for the worst, assuming that the opener was using size to compensate for talent, as is often times the case. By the end of the first song, I had revised my opinion. The lead singer’s live vocals sounded more like they were being delivered through a set of Skullcandies than a crowd of Cardinals jerseys. I was more incredulous, though, at the voice of its female vocalist. Arriving a bit late, I mistook her for the band dancer/maraca player, and was quite surprised when she began a noteworthy impression of Florence of Florence + The Machine.
With every change of chorus and harmony, the band was able to forge an abstract universe on stage that welcomed members of the audience, without granting us the pretense that our presence was somehow necessary to its psychedelic existence. Yet in the midst of the chaotic performance, the band knew its order. When it was time to dance, everyone danced. When it was time to maraca, everyone fist-pumped intensely. By the end of the last harmonica riff, I took a head count of the band and was stunned. Sleepy Sun is not quite a large band (I counted 6), but rather an eclectic one capable of producing a large, beautiful sound — and not shy of enjoying its own concoction.
