Smoulder away, my wayward songs, it’s a new 7″ from Inner West’s best, Sleepy. If you’re a raging insomniac, to the extent of Christian Bale in The Machinist, then make sure you go out and buy yourself a copy of this 7″. Super dreamy, almost gloppy, dream-pop that is like a cross between Smudge, Guided By Voices and pre-pubescent Jebediah, when they were still yawning and less about rawking.
Unfortunately, the 7″ only runs for two songs, which is a huge shame, because these tracks are rip-roaring bed time enhancers. They are just so full of life, a sincere encasement of beautiful pop, like Sir David Attenborough reciting his dulcet tones over a Built to Spill song. From the spindly guitar lines mixing with the overwrought reverb, softly collecting into a pool of fuzz and teenage woo-oahs, Sleepy conquer our hearts for far too brief a time.