You have to love some of the names that young bands choose for themselves. Either they're too naïve to see the obvious puns and snarky comments that critics will come up with when nitpicking their music, or they know and they're too apathetic to care, or they're just really attached to the name and brave enough to stand their ground when the PR department at their new label advises a change of moniker. In any event, there are a few choice remarks that I could make about the trio known as Sleeping at Last. Fortunately, I get to save those remarks for another day. Why? Because these guys simply don't warrant being made fun of.

As a matter of fact, these three Chicago-area boys might have recorded one of the finest label debuts of the year 2003. For whatever reason, I missed 'em when they first appeared - the fact that they were a band of Christians signed to mainstream label Interscope, with no previous buzz in the CCM industry that I had caught wind of, might have had something to do with it. Apparently they toured with Switchfoot and I missed it. No matter. Sleeping at Last, with their slightly moody, occasionally keyboard-laced brand of ambient electric rock, isn't the type of band that would have likely converted me in concert. Given the most superficial listen, their album Ghosts is likely to strike the listener as rather immaterial. While possessing a lovely musical atmosphere, these songs are of the variety that take their time to fully sink in. It might sound like a tranquil sea of gently ringing guitars at first, with the occasional up tempo song or piano or string interlude to offer some variance. But then you listen again, and there's an echoing vocal part that you didn't notice before, that sticks in your brain. Or there's an isolated snippet of the lyrics that catches your attention. And before you know it, each listen helps you to further connect the dots and find something intricate amidst the perceived simplicity. This was my experience, anyway - I was relatively unimpressed, but continued to give them a chance, and when I got to the point of having bits and pieces of their tunes rattling around in my brain during a vacation, when I had no access to the actual songs, I knew I was hooked, and in one of the best ways that an audiophile can have such a thing happen to them.

None of this is to say that the band lacks energy - it's just that when they show that energy, they're using it to create a lovely crescendo rather than to make you bang your head. In that sense, their approach mirrors the slow-is-the-new-fast aesthetic of a band like Coldplay, only with electric guitar taking dominance over the acoustic guitar and piano. Imagine that type of music with a lead singer whose voice bears a striking resemblance to that of Remy Zero's Cinjun Tate. Now add lyrics that offer a bit of a spiritual shading with language that is thankfully more poetic and accomplished than your average band inside of the CCM walls, and you'll start to get the picture of what Sleeping at Last is all about. More and more, I'm realizing that making a name for yourself as a band of Christians in the mainstream isn't about how well you can mask your faith with cryptic lyrics, or hide it altogether. It's more about being honest regarding where you're coming from, and then offering your listeners excellence in your songcraft. Experience has shown me that honesty is generally better received than a game of spiritual hide-and-seek. That Sleeping at Last can depict spiritual struggles and personal conversations with God in a way that displays both honesty and creativity is a big plus for the band. I mean, hey, they managed to get Billy Corgan's attention, which is what helped to get them where they are today. Sure, Billy's been through a bit of a spiritual re-awakening, but that generally isn't enough to make your average rock star want to promote any and all bands with a Christian message.

Having said all that, I do still find a few moments where Ghosts becomes a specter of an album that drifts through my consciousness without leaving much of an imprint. Time has diminished these less-than-solid moments to a few isolated songs, but still, it troubles me when I've heard a song 20 times and I can't distinguish it from other songs in my memory. These moments occur in the back half of the album, and since the front half is so solid, and even the least interesting tracks still possess worthwhile lyrics, I'm willing to let the band off with only minor criticisms in that department. For the most part, Ghosts attains more and more of a feeling of genuine life with each new listen.

Say
They impose the endless fight to always be perfect
It seems they have been chosen to be above the rest
But the contradiction stands between these perfect lives
And the words that they've misread, there was no reading...
For a record that's mostly mellow, I have to say it kicks off with a rather peppy little song. A soft electronic hum and clean electric guitar create the main hook, which kind of loops around behind most of the song, while the drums offer a thick but light-footed rhythm to back up Ryan O'Neal's jubilant vocals. While he has a tone that you'd normally expect to accompany more melancholy lyrics, there's a definite sort of happy freedom to this song, as he urges someone to "Say all the things that you really want to say/The truest of forms will show/Finally you'll find your soul." He goes on to describe a quest for meaning that this person seems to be undertaking, and the song seems to be a caution against getting dragged down by those who would stifle this person's honesty and insist on their own distorted version of the truth. For an upbeat and fun song that could have simply used its energy and its airy guitar riffs as a driving force, it's actually quite thick in the lyrics department. While I haven't connected every line of the song to an overall central meaning, I get the sense that the band is trying to communicate the importance of asking honest questions here. It's a first step that doesn't explicitly spell out the answers that this person seems to be searching for, recognizing that it's important to let that person cross their bridges as they arrive at them.

Currents
In this sea of change, understanding is our shore
I disappear with no control...
The second song takes on more of a medium peace, with gentle synths floating in the background, giving Ryan's vocals enough breathing room to describe a predicament of being awash at sea, a helpless victim of the tide. Perhaps this sea is really a metaphor for confusion, because he seems to be reaching out for a rescuer in the more urgent chorus: "Pull me back to shore, I'll never reach my place." The shore is analogous to "understanding" in this song, so it paints the picture of an inexperienced swimmer wandering out into the tides of alluring philosophies that later turn out to be empty. I love how the song is capped off by a string interlude reprising its refrain - I've generally come to see strings as an unnecessary cliché, but here it really works, because they're the icing on the cake rather than the primary flavor.

All that Is Beautiful
I am afraid that opinions are contagious
I am afraid that my plans will lose their place...
For a group who grew up listening to Radiohead, I have to give them credit for aptly channeling that influence without directly aping them (or any of their other musical heroes, at least as far as I can tell). Here, amidst a cheery, upbeat, shimmering layer of drums and synth notes, Ryan manages to project a sort of manic paranoia about things that are beautiful, which he will not allow to be beautiful to him. This song is like a big blame game directed at anything and everything in the outside world that is perceived to be a threat by your average Christian - "We were victims of a constant loss, we are not the enemy." Once again, there's a sense of urgency to the lyric, and it echoes the same notion of proving you're crazy by insisting to us that you're perfectly healthy that Thom Yorke displayed when he remarked, "I'm a reasonable man, get off my case". In this case, though, it's an overly paranoid church speaking to a fallen world that it's supposed to be out there making a difference in - instead, it seems to be more content sitting in its pew with its head between its knees. At least that's how I interpret it. These songs are clearly open to multiple interpretations.

Ghosts
The doves come to gather our every need
They lift them up to Heaven through the mouths from which we speak...
If one felt the need to compare anything with a slow, reflective piano to Coldplay, then I guess this would be the moment to pull out such a comparison. Whatever notions you might be given by the quiet opening as Ryan begins to address the demons (or is it angels) that haunt him in the first verse as a piano plunks out a flowing 3/4 rhythm will soon be dashed against the rocks, however, as his brother Chad O'Neal brings in an intriguing drum pattern that takes the song from a crawl to a gallop without changing its actual tempo (he's just subdividing the beat). This song is one place where the band clearly cries out to God in a moment of confusion. The music reflects this confusion, morphing between slow piano-ballad and its fast-paced rhythm that sounds like it's prone to stumble at any moment. It's an effective merging of two very different aesthetics, and it makes the plea for angels to come and bring peace in the midst of the chaos all the more convincing. There's a sense that the request for angels isn't really what the singer should be asking for, as if he could learn something from the trial rather than just having God wipe it all away. In the midst of the sonic whirlwind, it's a bit more difficult to look on things with such clarity. "Like a moth to a flame, we become helpless," Ryan sings at the close of the song, "To the beautiful ghosts that true love sheds". It's hard to tell exactly what those ghosts represent, and whether their presence a good or bad thing.

A Skeleton of Something More
The living are moving gracefully
And painfully rushing ahead
While unraveling the most essential thread
Of the fabric that covers us...
The gentle, wispy, reverberating guitar that opens this song is one of those moments that I was talking about earlier - the compelling little snippet, in this case a simple series of descending chords, that whispered gently in my ear and compelled me to keep listening. This is one of those songs that is clearly in love with its own ability to create a musical crescendo, because that moment comes early and hangs around for most of the song. It's a beautiful, ethereal number that still has a strong, driving electric presence in the background. How they do both at once is really beyond me - as I listen once again, I'm starting to wonder why exactly I had pegged this album as being so "mellow". In any case, the music is not the only selling point of this song - the lyrics are some of the finest examples of poetry that Sleeping at Last has to offer, describing a painful and yet beautiful process of redemption - an intangible epiphany, if you will. There's a "living house of cards that pushes and pulls with air", hearts that "become magnetized", and rain that goes "Flooding through the veins of wilted vines". Hmm. These metaphors all hint at frailty, and ultimately healing. Just when the skeleton starts to get fleshed out, though, the song dissipates into the ether with a quiet outro, and one of the band's most memorable lines, "The warmth of the sun is melting the snowflakes before they hit the ground." Simply lovely.

Hurry
Every move we make will trigger another
And every small mistake will be a messenger...
The record's mellowest moment is actually one of its finest, despite how the drop in tempo later in the record caused my attention to skip over a few songs at first. Giving the electric guitar a breather, Ryan pulls out an acoustic and gently picks away while strings swell up in the background. In other hands, this song would have jumped too quickly into power ballad territory, but restraint is the key word here. The band seems to be pleading with the listener to slow down, to free themselves from their enslavement to the hectic pace of life, and to realize their place in the universe - "The world is ours, if we would only let it be". It's a compelling sentiment - but is it really the call for redemptive silence and solitude what I first thought it was, or is it another example of escapism and shutting out a world that needs to be looked on with honesty? That's an interesting puzzle - the song seems to at once affirm and deny its central statement. All the while, a very light, but quick thumping keeps time, as if an echo from the frantic world waiting outside, trying to pressure the song to speed up already.

Everyone
And through all the things we'll find out
We will hold on tighter to the surface life
With our closed fists we will feel like we've succeeded again...
The way that this song brings the tempo back up gradually, opening with a lone electric guitar playing up and down over the same series of four notes, actually reminds me of how "Red Hill Mining Town" led off the second half of U2's The Joshua Tree. (U2 gets cited by some as being a major influence on this album, and while I can see how any rock band that is both spiritual and creative owes a debt to U2, and how any band with ringing guitars will inevitably garner those comparisons, I don't think we should go overboard with it like we would with, say, Delirious?) While not as upbeat as "Say" or "All that Is Beautiful", this is still one of the faster tracks on the album, but despite that, this is the point where I have a more difficult time keeping track of the individual songs. Much like "Say", this song seems to be urging its listeners to take what they're feeling and let it out - the title just implies that this is being requested of people on a larger scale. The language in this song is very "we"-oriented instead of "me"-oriented, appearing more concerned with the community at large and how people are communicating with one another, rather than just venting one's own feelings about this, that, and the other. Actually, there's a strong "we" feeling in a lot of these songs, which probably makes it easier for listeners to identify with the search for meaning being depicted in these songs. In that sense, I can see why they'd fit in well with a band like Switchfoot.

Brightly
Handshakes and fake smiles always make me nervous...
Close the door, please close the door...
At this point, a pair of songs with relaxed 6/8 rhythms appear back to back, making it difficult for me to distinguish one from the other. The first of these two uses soft keyboard tones and an overall mellow mood, complete with soft "la la"s in the background during the chorus, to set a very peaceful mood. The rhythm is quite interesting, sometimes putting the emphasis on beats 1 and 4, and sometimes emphasizing 1, 3, and 5. Much like "Ghosts", it makes the song feel like a successful merging of two different patterns. The lyrics are a bit of a puzzle, but they seem to describe an encounter with a luminescent being, someone who brings clarity amidst a crowd that just makes a lot of noise. It's a lovely song that I'm learning to appreciate more as I listen more carefully.

Slowly, Now
But the curse of opinions and their views are promising defeat
Replacing love with doubt and helplessness...
The second of these 6/8 songs doesn't seem to fare as well - while I can't think of any particular element that bothers me about it, I also have trouble remembering much about it. It is perhaps even more keyboard dependent than "Brightly", to the point where the music borders on mush, and tempo-wise, it lives up to its title. None of those are immediately bad things - it's mostly the album's pacing that is to blame here. This song seems to depict a lack of strength and a need for patience. It might also provide a clue as to why the band chose their name when the passionate chorus bursts out - "We just need some sleep, we just need some time to catch our breath." Again, is that attempt to strengthen ourselves a positive thing, or just another example of our ignorant defiance in depending on ourselves? These songs pose some interesting double meanings that may or may not be intended. Either way, I think is strengthens the overall message of the album, because I know who they're ultimately pointing to as a source of strength when we have none.

Night Must End
There's something about sadness that leaves us wanting more
A sickness that breathes
From holding on to letting go, the change is like dying...
Electronic notes come bubbling up at the beginning of this track, and when a steady drum beat locks the song into a groove, I get a strange picture of a runner edging his way toward the finish line in slow motion. There's a vaguely heroic tone to the song, which is fitting, since Ryan is describing pain in temporal terms, urging us towards a victorious sunrise ahead. Here is where the pieces begin to come together and the theme of surrender is addressed - "Teach me what I need to know to be strong enough to let go." There's hiding away from the world with a sense of hopelessness, and then there's relinquishing control and trusting that God can handle it. These are two very different kinds of weaknesses, and the band has quietly illustrated both of them.

Trees (Hallway of Leaves)
In the moments that I feel we're closer than ever before
The world drops out from under our feet
But I believe the darkest of fights prove we're almost there...
Sleeping at Last may well have saved its loveliest song for last. I didn't think so at first, being more drawn to the thick melody of "A Skeleton of Something More", or the bright tones of "All That Is Beautiful", but this is one of those songs that paints a lovely picture with its restrained approach, keeping the drums and guitars fairly mellow except during brief bursts of the song's refrain. Ghostly synths lurk underneath, reminding me very much of Remy Zero's "Belong", only slowed down. Fittingly, the lyrics describe two people being lost in a forest as the sun sets - the Remy Zero song always reminded me of a couple wandering through the woods. Here, my picture isn't so much of a couple, but more of an image of two children playing hide-and-seek and going on some sort of a treasure hunt. As the sun begins to set, panic sets in and they realize that they're lost. But Ryan continues to urge his fellow explorer: "Trust me, I know where I'm going." (It's a classic male response, programmed into us at a young age.) Reading the lyrics to this song gave me the shivers at first - not in a scary way, but rather in an excited way. Something about the imagery of wandering through a "hallway of leaves", frantically searching for something that you could've sworn was there before but isn't now, just clicked with me. As the sun sets and the song trails off with the assurance, "Don't worry, 'cause I know where we are. Will you follow me still?", the voice seems to shift from that of a lost child to that of an assured leader, perhaps Jesus Christ Himself, leading the lost children into a new and exciting realm.

I've done a lot of reading between the lines here, but even if you're coming from a different religious viewpoint than the members of this band, I think that this is one of those artfully made records where you can't help but allowing the songs to imprint their own special images upon your mind. They may be different for each person, as far as I know, but the overall sense of being lost and then found comes through crystal clear. It's haunting in an unexpectedly satisfying way, and I think this more than makes up for the interchangeable nature of a few of the songs. If Sleeping at Last can address that one problem with a tiny bit more diversity on their next album, they could have something really amazing on their hands. But as they are now, they're off to a wonderful start, and I would recommend Ghosts wholeheartedly to anyone who likes their rock music infused with a moody vibe (not depressing; that's different) and an overall sense of creativity.

ALBUM WORTH:
Say $1.50
Currents $1.50
All That Is Beautiful $2
Ghosts $2
A Skeleton of Something More $2
Hurry $2
Everyone $1
Brightly $1
Slowly, Now $.50
Night Must End $1
Trees (Hallway of Leaves) $2
TOTAL: $16.50

CONCLUSION: Worth every dollar at all but the high end of list prices.

Band Members:
Ryan O'Neal: Vocals, guitar, keyboards
Chad O'Neal: Drums
Dan Perdue: Bass, keyboards

Website: http://www.sleepingatlast.com

Recommended: Yes

Great Music to Play While: Listening