Matt Chabe’s Sleeping Fits is a release that feels like it was transmitted from the edge of a desert highway and a neon-lit city all at once. Recorded with busted amps, temperamental guitars, and an uncompromising DIY ethos, the album vibrates with a raw energy that’s impossible to ignore. It’s clear this is music made with urgency, honesty, and a fascination with the unpredictable.
The opening track, “Crystal Lizard (Was Gonna Be the Name of This Band),” is both chaotic and precise, a manifesto of intent. Jagged guitars twist through the rhythm like a live wire, drums stomp with calculated abandon, and Chabe’s vocals hover between tension and release, pausing and stretching in ways that demand attention. It’s the kind of song that announces itself with confidence, setting the tone for an album unafraid of its own edges.
“I Feel Fine” carries that energy further, a storm of distorted riffs, pounding percussion, and soaring vocals. The track crashes forward with exhilarating recklessness, yet beneath the noise, there’s a meticulous craft: a careful shaping of tension and melody that turns chaos into a thrill ride. Then comes “Sylphide,” a quieter, more intimate pivot. Sparse piano and fragile vocals carve out a space of reflection, revealing a softer, more vulnerable side of Chabe’s artistry. It’s a moment that contrasts beautifully with the record’s abrasiveness, demonstrating range and emotional depth.
Throughout the album, Chabe’s lyrics navigate modern life with sharp observation and sly humor, addressing digital alienation, fleeting connections, and the absurdities of contemporary existence. The rough, unpolished production enhances the immediacy of each song, making every scrape, hum, and crackle feel intentional, human, and alive.
Sleeping Fits can be looked at as a world in miniature, a place where desert-rock grit, art-rock eccentricity, and pop hooks coexist, collide, and breathe. In its textures, rhythms, and melodies, the album quivers within the machinery of the modern world, reminding the listener that music can still feel urgent, imperfect, and profoundly alive..
