Sleepersound: “My Own Dead Love” (2025) Vinyl Review

Sleepersound formed in Milwaukee in that strange, twisted year of 2016, the year that left us with a moronic, whiny ex-gameshow host in charge of the country. It was a year that signaled the beginning of this nation’s alarming and witless descent into fascism. That year also took many great musicians from us (Leonard Cohen, David Bowie, Leon Russell, Prince, Merle Haggard, Keith Emerson, Greg Lake, Rob Wasserman, Dan Hicks, Ralph Stanley, Guy Clark, Paul Kantner, Maurice White and so on). It was a time when things did not seem quite real, or perhaps a time when we refused to believe these things could be real. Things that were once familiar were then unrecognizable, even people we had known had transformed into monsters. And many of us turned inward as a result. Enter Sleepersound. Even the band’s name has an interesting dreamlike sense, but not that of a quiet dream, not that of a passive dream. There is both beauty and darkness to the band’s sound. The band released its first full-length album, In Medias Res, in 2018, and followed that with Idle Voices in 2021. Now these guys have an excellent new record out. Titled My Own Dead Love, it features all original material. The band on this album is made up of Dave D’Antonio, Mike Campise, Kenny Buesing and Dan Niedziejko. And the album is presented on a clear sea green vinyl that, for one reason or another, puts me in mind of Prospero and Ariel, and these lines: “These our actors,/As I foretold you, were all spirits and/Are melted into air, into thin air;/And like the baseless fabric of this vision,/The cloud-capp’d towers, the gorgeous palaces,/The solemn temples, the great globe itself,/Ye all which it inherit, shall dissolve/And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,/Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff/As dreams are made on, and our little life/Is rounded with a sleep.”

Side A

The album’s opening track, “Let’s Play Wolves,” begins with some gentle guitar work, sounding almost like a lullaby, in that comforting way. “Tell yourself whatever you need to survive/Even if it’s a lie.” Those are lines that give me pause, something to think about. Is it good advice? I hate dishonesty, but if it’s a matter of self-preservation, and the lie is just to yourself, then the harm can’t be much. I suppose there are all manners of lies we tell ourselves to get through a day, to get through an ordeal. We promise ourselves things will get better, without having any idea if they will. Then “Tread Down” has more of a pop rock sound, with a strong, steady beat from the start. There is a bit of a 1980s vibe, something familiar, particularly in the guitar work, and that is comforting too. And there is something pretty about it. We settle into this sound, feeling at home in it, the track giving us that opportunity before the vocals come in. And indeed this song too does offer a hand, a shoulder. We all need to hear that someone is always on our side, and sometimes music is able to give us that itself. Life seems to be getting needlessly more difficult and more ugly. But this music has an uplifting energy, an encouraging energy. We can do this. We can persevere. And we may not need to lie to ourselves to do it (unless, of course, saying we’ll persevere is itself a lie, and I can’t be certain it’s not).

“Certain Beasts” eases in, like a dawn, creating an atmosphere, the sound filling the air, the space, enveloping us, even before the beat begins, that beat creating a more solid ground. The song’s first line is surprising: “I’m spitting blood.” And, perhaps because it is surprising, and thus unsettling, it is repeated. But then we are told, “But it’s okay, ‘cause I found you.” We get the sense that the world around these two is raging, with fights and fires and strife and destruction, as the music swells. And we who are listening become the two people, embracing, keeping the world at bay, even as it rumbles at our doors and windows. Hold onto each other, friends. There isn’t much else. And perhaps the rest will pass. We can be the calm center that is needed, the music tells us. That’s followed by “Ni Siquiera Tu,” which takes us to more familiar territory. There is a beauty to this track. Soft colors and lights caress us in this relatively safe place, and we can focus on each other. Our loved one’s face becomes our whole world, the music seems to say. The music gives us a moment to really see each other. Sometimes reality is narrowed down to what two people share, something that can’t be shared with anyone outside the two. The music frames our loved one’s face, and the rhythm finds us in a dance that only the two of us engage in.

Side B

The nice pop vibe of “Embers” puts us in a more cheerful, or least accepting, state. We need that feeling, that memory, for we may end up in a place that is broken, sections of ourselves separated from the others. Still, the pieces are caressed by the vocals here, and so we feel whole, we feel comforted. Toward the end, we seem to have entered an ethereal territory. Are we saying goodbye or hello? Then with “Falling Dream” we begin in a dreamlike realm, partially in a place of cloud and thoughts, partially in a more physical, defined space, the latter created in part by that delicious bass line. There is a pull in both directions, and it is uncertain in which, if either, lies our fate. “So please wake me up/If I’ve been dreaming.” But it feels the whole place, whether dreaming or awake, shares certain dubious qualities, and so it may be best to just go where it will take us. The music can be our guide.

“Soma” builds from its beat, creating a place of heartbeats and glowing flesh, where speaking is unnecessary. And so this track is an instrumental, the album’s sole instrumental number. Knowledge pulses within the flesh, in individual cells, and within the organism as a whole. And there is knowledge perceived as grace within its movement. We are far from alone here, as the drums seem to indicate as the track progresses. As the sound begins to build, there comes a sense of urgency, crucial information imparted through touch, through movement, racing against the darkness that descends upon us. That’s followed by “The Flesh,” and here we enter a more mysterious place, our steps tentative, a dreamlike quality to our motion, for we go slowly, perceive things slowly. The voice comes from a place of pain, a pain that runs deep, and from the past. There is something seemingly eternal about its source. There is no need to hurry, even if it were possible. The album concludes with “Living Ancestor,” the voice coming from various places, surrounding us, so that we feel comfortable sinking into the sound, presented in soft golds and greens and blues. The earth and the sky combine, so that we can land in air or grass or cloud. Unharmed, we drift, we settle. We just have to trust in the sound. And we do, partly because of its beauty. Death becomes irrelevant, even if there is an unexpected change at the end just as we relax into that shifting eternity, that pleasant oblivion

Record Track List

Side A

1. Let’s Play Wolves
2. Tread Down
3. Certain Beasts
4. Ni Siquiera Tu

Side B

1. Embers
2. Falling Dream
3. Soma
4. The Flesh
5. Living Ancestor

My Own Dead Love is scheduled to be released on vinyl on March 14, 2025, though the record release party was on March 1st, and the album was made available digitally on February 28th.