Here’s another post that’s been a longtime coming, especially after this past week. Upon returning home from a weeklong trip to South Carolina, the ocean has been on my mind constantly. The air is different on the ocean – the smell of it, the feel of it, the sound of it.  The sun is different too. Even while it intensely beats down, the incessant sea breeze creates this wind tunnel on the beach, to the point where if the sun disappears behind clouds, it chills you to the core. I can still feel and hear the ocean around me, and see the waves falling over each other, sliding “downward” to the beach. It seems that everyone describes ocean waves differently, and rightly so, as the ocean never looks the same upon each glance.  This view, the falling waves, the incessant sea breeze purified my soul. And of course, one cannot visit South Carolina without visiting Charleston, one of the most beautiful and unique cities I’ve ever seen. Nothing about it says modernity or even industry. Rather, it speaks antiquity. Quaint, historical buildings and houses, painted in a vast array of colors, line the streets. While Charleston was new to me, its vibes said otherwise. The sturdy palm trees lining the sidewalks attested to this, as these gorgeous trees had probably lined the streets for a long time. The houses imbued a French Quarter vibe and also probably stood with the palm trees for quite some time. The Holy City seeps with history and antiquity, however it also cultivates a new, youthful energy so beautifully, so seamlessly. It perplexed me. It is safe to say that in addition to falling in love with the ocean, I also fell in love with the old South Carolinian city right on the ocean. To wander those streets again…

The song below is “Sleepwalk,” perhaps the quintessential surf song to date, one that never fails to get me through the dreary, cold Midwest winters, and one that always seems so appropriate to listen to while visiting a new place. I mentioned “surf” above. It is true that this song is classified as a surf song, and that I did listen to it while admiring the beautiful ocean, but it might not feel this way to everyone. It might also remind people of summertime, or perhaps loneliness. When I first heard this song, it made me think of a desolate beach harboring nothing but a lone palm tree, a soft breeze, and sunbeams. Regardless, “Sleepwalk” is meditative. Personally, it is one of the few popular songs that can  take me somewhere else. It doesn’t end here, though. This song has the ability to make me feel “somewhere else.” This “somewhere else” is different for everyone. It might be a fixture of the past, or perhaps it is a different kind of “present.” For me, both past and present blend together when I listen to this song, allowing me to remember and to feel in the present moment, a certain experience I had, like staring unto the ocean from the beach in South Carolina. These personal and meditative experiences can really be associated with any song, as music has a strong associational ability, and can conjure up many feelings or emotions from a specific time. However,”Sleepwalk” seems to be inherently like this. Just listening to it automatically conjures up feelings and/or memories from the past, from “somewhere else.” By definition, “Sleepwalk” is nostalgic and reminiscent making it a perfect subject for this post, and blog.

Historically, this song has become a staple of American popular music and has gone on to inspire other legendary artists (most notably, The Beatles). It has also been covered by many different groups, and is frequently covered even today. However over the years, “Sleepwalk” has often been misattributed to an artist gone way too soon, Richie Valens. Perhaps many remember this song from the end of the late-1980s film La Bamba, a film depicting the brief life of the early rock n’ roll singer, Richie Valens. Note, Richie Valens did NOT write this song, nor did he record this song. However, in the end of the film when Richie’s death is announced on the radio, “Sleepwalk” plays as a tribute (it is also heard in the beginning of the film as a means to foreshadow the end). In the end scene, Richie’s mother, played by Rosanna Desoto, reacts to the news of her son’s death. Her portrayal in this scene is so raw, eerily raw in fact. Because of this, “Sleepwalk” has become inextricably linked with this scene and with Richie Valens’s death. Although this scene is incredibly profound and beautifully done, I have decided not to share it here because of the cult following it has inspired for this song. Interestingly, “Sleepwalk” was released several months after Riche Valens’s death, so realistically it would not have been heard on the radio as portrayed in the film. Perhaps the movie’s director just thought it fit with the climate of the movie and with that scene as it is kind of sad-sounding and somewhat haunted. As mentioned above, this song means different things to different people.

Brothers Santo and Johnny Farina wrote “Sleepwalk” in the late-1950s. Other than being known for this iconic song, Santo and Johnny were also known for covering other famous songs from the 1950s and before. This hit reached the #1 spot on the US chart in 1959, thanks to legendary DJ, Alan Freed. “Sleepwalk” essentially is a rock n’ roll ballad, and also incorporates the doo wop chord progression (in the bass).  Above the bass, we hear a beautiful melody played by some “Hawaiian-sounding” instrument. This beautiful sound comes from the pedal-steel guitar (it is the keyboard-looking instrument on the album cover in the video). Interestingly, Santo and Johnny grew up in an Italian neighborhood in Brooklyn, New York, and Hawaii had not even become a state yet!! Therefore, they did not intentionally try to make this song sound like “Hawaii.” It just so happened that the pedal-steel guitar was also common in old country/American folk music from the 1940s and early-1950s.

Musically, “Sleepwalk” incorporates the surf style that burgeoned in the US in the early-1960s. This style of rock n’ roll was developing simultaneously with doo wop, however, both styles were strikingly different. Early surf music had no lyrics and was purely instrumental. It had very distinct vibes that came to represent the loose salt life of the ocean. These songs aimed to take listeners directly to that way of living almost immediately. “Sleepwalk” is no exception. As soon as it begins, the pedal-steel creates this meditative context. Doo wop on the other hand, is a vocally-centric experience with few instruments. The lyrics are usually quite romantic and the music is nostalgic, creating a context in which listeners reminisce about the past. “Sleepwalk” may not contain lyrics and background vocalists singing nonsense syllables, but the prominent pedal-steel seems to mimic the voice of any other doo wop tenor. Not to mention, the meditative flow makes the melody seem reflective, as if it reminisces about another time and place. NOTE: lyrics were composed for this song and there is another rendition sung by Betsy Brye containing the lyrics.

The melody also seems to be drawn from the doo wop chord progression, like so many other vocal doo wop songs. Note the overarching downward contour, similar to the chord progression (I down to vi down to IV, followed by brief upward jolt to V). Overall, the melody serenely holds a place of its own.  It is so relaxed, so natural, and even ethereal. It really just… exists. It moves when it wants to and how it wants to. It essentially follows its own “time.” Perhaps its free-flowing nature is what makes it so meditative and reminiscent of the ocean. The “heartbeat” in the bass,  plucking the doo wop chord progression, softly moves the song along. The light echoing backbeat in the drums follows a 12/8 time signature, 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10-11-12. Such a meter was quite common in rock n’ roll and doo wop ballads, easily allowing lovers to dance together in each other’s arms. The soft drum backbeat might also imbue ocean waves hitting the shore.

Below is another rendition of “Sleepwalk” by The Shadows, a popular surf rock group from the 1960s.

“Sleepwalk” is one of the early surf songs that really paved the way for the surf style in the 1960s. However it is important to remember, that the composers Santo and Johnny, never intended for this to be a “surf” song; it merely sounded like it because of the pedal-steel guitar (common in Hawaiian folk music) and the soft, free-flowing nature of the melody. Additionally, doo wop influences certainly penetrate this beautiful song, adding a nostalgic and wistful flavor. This gives it its meditative and reminiscent power. Therefore, this song can be interpreted in many ways. In whatever way you interpret it, first listen to it an exist with it. Let it stir something inside of you. It is rare to find a popular song so meditative like this one! Please leave comments. 🙂