According to Pitchfork's Stuart Berman, Sleepy Sun is within "San Fran's tie-dyed tradition, [though] the band's palette is actually smeared with a whole lotta Blacks: Sabbath, Mountain... Angels and... even the Crowes." Like the aforementioned bands, Sleepy Sun is also made up of road warriors, having previously opened for indie-rock royalty such as Arctic Monkeys, Fleet Foxes, and a few nonanimal bands. New Times snagged guitarist Matt Holliman while the band was amid some European dates, and he was happy to gush about some of his favorite Sunshine State bits of whatever — some musical, some otherwise — in preparation for his band's gig at Respectable Street on Tuesday. We suggest you bring some boiled peanuts to the show.
Coastal heat/humidity: "Let's be honest: San Francisco is consistently bright and sunny for two months out of the year. This leaves ten months for hooded sweatshirts and peacoats. In Florida, you actually have the chance to perspire, so we can drag out all of our cutoff T-shirts in April and not look like complete fools."
Miami Beach: "We have Santa Cruz; you have Miami Beach. Each place is a verified coastal circus. So sit down on a bench by the waterfront, throw on some shades and SPF 30, and enjoy the grade-A people-watching."
Universal Studios: "More specifically, the Jaws ride. I saw this film at the ripe old age of 4 and have had a constant fear of water ever since. I think they've dumbed down the experience since I first took a spin in '89. Back then, they used real great whites that they riled up with electricity. Ultimately, PETA wasn't having it (in conjunction with the rising costs of sharks), so they switched to the mechanical mackerel you see now."
Strangers Family Band: "We've played a handful of shows with these [guys] on the East Coast. Wonderful music and fine gentlemen to boot. They put us up in their house in Orlando this past spring. There's a falafel shop and a Vietnamese sandwich joint on the same block. They also have lots of dogs and even more guitars. Late-night sitar jams are the norm."
Boiled peanuts: "Usually we're already hitting these up in Georgia. On the drive down south, we cruise the back roads for podunk gas stations that sell fishing poles, Confederate-flag baseball caps, and XXXL T-shirts in basic camouflage print. Without fail, there's usually a jolly mustached entrepreneur out front with spicy boiled peanuts in sawed-off oil drums. These are the good ones. Usually served in brown lunch bags."