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Sleeping People
Sleeping People\r\n(Temporary Residence)
By Jennifer Robertson
Genre music, like genre film or genre literature, is easy to do but hard to do well. Take prog rock, for example. When it’s good, it’s great. (King Crimson, Yes, and Emerson, Lake, and Palmer come to mind.) But when it’s bad, it’s not only unbearable, it’s (yawn!) bor-ing.
A recent national review of Sleeping People’s eponymous disc described the band’s sound as a “pleasant headache.” As exciting as that may seem, it’s wrong on two counts: Nothing about the c.d. is pleasant, and every track is liable to put you to sleep before a headache can form.
Don’t get me wrong. The aptly titled band can deliver the quick, complex, and bouncing sonic motifs of standard prog rock, but nothing about these fancy time signature changes and mercurial solos is interesting or provocative. When the best you can say about a c.d. is that the song titles are interesting — and they are (“Nasty Portion,” “Nachos,” “Johnny Depp”) — you know that your ears have had all they can take.
Prog rock fans who get off on the subtleties of the genre may find Sleeping People somewhat passable entertainment. That’s good: The band plays Denton in October.
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