Live Review

Besnard Lakes – Brudenell Social Club, Leeds

• 24th Aug 2010

Still touring off the back of this year’s Fever (ATP Recordings), Sleepy Sun bring a distinctive blend of styles to the party, whilst keeping it tastefully consistent.

The opener plunges into sickly, filthily swung pot smoke reminiscent of Dead Meadow, but pierced by the bright light of Bret Constantino and Rachel Fannan’s dual vocal. Black Mountain comparisons are mandatory, with the hazy guitars and male-female singing, but the vocal style is quite different: as if Low had put their heads above the parapet. Both voices are capable of camouflaging each other, but usually boast the distinct qualities necessary to shield from sameness. Generous servings of reverb and delay on the full-bodied harmonies recall the rounded chorus of Fleet Foxes, with equally well-rehearsed timing and intonation, but overall the instrumentation is more colourful and interesting than Fleet Foxes. The San Fran sextet stir up a psychedelic bisque of muddy riffs and tribal drumming.

Stylistic adventures are varied. Although generally confined to the pen of ’70s-inspired psyche-jam, the band make forays into country, folk and dad-rock that bring out an individual sound. Plucked folk numbers surprise, but generally come off well and stand out amongst the hynotising fuzz-blues tracks surrounding them. There are also flourishes of harmonica from time to time that, although somehow comical, work well in context. Slide guitar with slapback delay also helps bring out an Americana feel – one which has been rather fashionable of late, and compliments Constantino’s slack-jawed belting.

One of the remarkable features of Sleepy Sun is their tendency to not prepare the listener for anything whatsoever. When you least expect it, a dragging quagmire of pentatonic sleazegaze will take a sharp turn into a world of Cuban claves and nimble auxiliary percussion. Conversely, an intimate soft-strum ballad will suddenly see a heffer of a drum fill from the tight Brian Tice. The ambrosial opening vocals of ‘Freedom Line’ wash over you hauntingly, only for a sludgy two-note riff to suddenly kick you in the face – a moment even better live than on record. The blatant psychedelia of it all can be pretty indulgent, but there is a knowing charisma that makes it more than tolerable. A diverse and well-executed set with well-defined character.

Joint headliners, Jagjagjagjaguwar’s The Besnard Lakes, aren’t as enthralling as Sleepy Sun tonight, despite being just as much so on record. Equally Americana-driven, equally folky, equally spacey, but just blander. The contrasts are the main merit to have fled the stage; in mood, style and dynamic, there are no longer any surprises, and although the mid-set ballad is easily the show highlight, it’s just about the only attention-grabbing event. I literally dozed off in the Brudenell before the end of their set, and although there were presumably myriad factors, their lack of live presence was no doubt one.