Golden Artifact
Reflecting on one of the greatest concerts I have ever seen
On October 4, 2009, I saw one of the greatest concerts of my life.
It wasn’t a major touring act with a multimillion-dollar production behind them; instead, it was a small band playing in a legendary basement venue that once held just 300 people. Yet, I was left completely floored by what I witnessed, heard, and felt.
I went on a whim due to a recommendation by a friend in England who emailed me saying, “Check this band out; I see they are playing Portland.” As there was no Spotify back then, their music was completely unknown to me, but I trusted my friend's advice, went solo to the venue that night, and bought my $10 ticket at the door.
Sleepy Sun was a psychedelic rock band formed when the members were students at the University of California, Santa Cruz. In 2007, they invited singer Rachel Fannan to join and be co-lead vocalist. However, exactly a year after I first saw them, in October 2010, after two albums and relentless touring with the band, Rachel left. While the remaining members pressed on with recording, releasing new albums, and touring until finally calling it quits in 2019, they struggled to recapture the magical spark and creative synergy they once shared with Fannan.
As I stepped into the dimly lit basement of Portland’s Doug Fir Lounge on a drizzly October evening in 2009, I was completely unaware of what awaited me. Except for the opening band's name, Assemble Head in Sunburst Sound, I remember nothing of them.
However, I remember everything about Sleepy Sun that night.
When Sleepy Sun took the stage, guitarist Evan Reiss looked the spitting image of ex-Moby Grape guitarist Skip Spence on the cover of his legendary 1969 solo album, ‘Oar.’ The other guitarist, Matt Holliman, had long dark hair, was tall, and skinny. The two vocalists, Bret Constantino and Rachel Fannan, adorned with vibrant, day-glo face paint beneath their eyes and on their cheeks, soon joined as stuttering drums and the throbbing, fuzzy bass riff of ‘New Age,’ the opening track off their debut album, Embrace, began to resonate loudly.
The two singers exchanged sighs, traded vocals, and harmonized together. It brought to mind the great chemistry Marty Balin and Grace Slick of the Jefferson Airplane once shared. Guitars wailed and weaved in and out; Constantino and Fannan theatrically twisted, writhed, and contorted their bodies, literally throwing themselves into the music being exorcised out of the instruments. The guitarists flailed their heads up and down in swirling circular motions, adding to the electric atmosphere.
The opening song completely blew me away, and that amazement only intensified as the set got deeper and the concert progressed. The band unleashed colossal riffs in rapid succession, songs shifted into dynamic time changes, drums were pounded, and there was the fuzzed-out, pulverizing energy of ‘Red/Black’ that absolutely pummeled my skull into oblivion.
The set moved into the lengthy, prog-psych jam of ‘White Dove,’ which became the centerpiece of the gig, showcasing the band at one of their conceptually heaviest and musically most frenetic moment.
In an enthralling, mind-altering, and breathtaking 75-minute set, Sleepy Sun commanded the stage with a performance that left me in awe. Their unique fusion of psychedelic, progressive, and stoner rock also, at times, seamlessly transitioned into folk influences. It was a refreshing change from the typical psych rock of the '00s, which so often echoed the jangly drone of Spacemen 3’esque Brian Jonestown Massacre influences or the heavy, downtuned sludge psych of Black Sabbath-inspired bands like Dead Meadow.
At some point, they launched into the song, ‘Marina,’ which would later be recorded for their second album, Fever. The track featured a dynamic interplay of dueling male/female vocals that trade off and add rich harmonies to each other. A harmonica wove in and out, complementing huge, thick slabs of guitar that shifted gradually into a tribal rhythm driven by heavy drums and percussion. Guitarist Reiss joined in, energetically beating a floor tom, while Constantino and Fannan shook maracas and tambourines. Fannan, in a burst of wild abandon, danced like a manic pixie, her body movements shaking, writhing, and hopping up and down as she interacted with other band members. It was impossible to take your eyes off her. The band, fueled by Fannan's energy and spirit, unleashed a powerful sonic onslaught. As the song reached its climax, Holliman extracted electrifying howls of guitar, and the entire band burst into a whirlwind of sound, with Constantino and Fannan’s harmonies merging in perfect unison.
If that wasn’t enough, the set’s closer, ‘Sandstorm Woman,’ a brilliant, bluesy, boogie number, slowed the pace while a call-and-response interaction ensued between Constantino and Fannan. As the song slowly built into its wild, chaotic jam, every musician frenetically moved their body to the music as each note was pulled, twisted, stretched, and massaged out of their instruments. The venue was filled with earth-shattering guitar riffs, thunderous bass lines, and explosive drums that pulsed, echoed, and penetrated literally every fiber of my body.
Multiple times throughout the show, the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, chills raced down my spine, I got goosebumps, and my heart fluttered with excitement and astonishment. At one point, tears of joy welled, and I couldn’t stop thinking, “I am witnessing something truly special.”
When the last note of ‘Sandstorm Woman’ rang out, I was completely mesmerized and in awe by what I had just experienced. My brain flooded with thoughts that this might be the greatest live band nobody knew about. When the band left the stage and the lights turned on, without hesitation, I went to the merch stand and bought their only LP at the time, Embrace, and a t-shirt.1
Eight months later, in June 2010, Sleepy Sun released their second album, Fever, which included many songs they played when I saw them back in October. The majority of the tracks for the follow-up LP were written back to back with their debut album, Embrace before they started touring full-time. As a result, a strong sense of continuity connects the two records.
On July 7, 2010, Sleepy Sun returned to Portland and played at the fabulous Mississippi Studios, and this time my wife and I both went. They played another barnstorming set that again concluded with an astonishing ‘Sandstorm Woman.’ Even though their music was on the heavier edge of rock, my wife was still taken aback by the gig and the band’s energy.
Sleepy Sun’s Embrace and Fever are both fantastic records. I’ll even go as far as saying they are two of the finest examples of psychedelic rock released in the last twenty+ years.2
After Rachel's departure, I saw the band again in 2011 and 2012 when they came through Portland, and I bought their third album, Spine Hits. However, as I mentioned earlier, by then the magic was gone. Sleepy Sun was now just another rock band and lacked that unique spark that had previously distinguished them and once made the band truly exceptional and extraordinary.
I have seen hundreds of concerts across the US, the UK, and Europe, and I can confidently say that Sleepy Sun with Rachel Fannan was among the very best gigs I have ever experienced. I feel fortunate to have witnessed them at the peak of their creativity. To this day, I often think of those two shows and the brief period Rachel spent with the band, and I can't help but miss what might have been if she hadn't left and they continued to this day.
The two live videos I have included are not from the Portland show I saw. However, they are the best videos on YouTube that capture Sleepy Sun’s infectious energy and closely resemble the gig I witnessed just a few months later. The intense jam of ‘Sandstorm Woman’ kicks in at the 4’27 mark.
Fever is the album I always recommend to people new to the band. However, Embrace is also essential listening.
I love your description of your response to that performance.
I was thinking of you the other day when I began reading one of the NY Times recommended books for 2024, Simon Critchley's "Mysticism." In one section called "We Are the Music" he refers to music as "fire and life and dance" and writes:
"When we listen to the music that we love, the world seems reanimated, bursting with sense, utterly alive. The only proof of animism I know is music. When we listen, it is as if the world falls under the spell o f a kind of natural magic. In music, the cosmos feels divinely infused. . . . . By 'music' here, I simply mean the music that you love . . that made you feel most alive when you first heard it and which you cherish for a lifetime."
Further on, he calls music "a godless mysticism . . . sensate ecstasy."
Sounds like you know exactly what he means.
I love posts like this one that capture the power of a commanding singer, the intimacy of a small venue and the magic of the unexpected. Thanks for a great read!