by Shea Roney (@uglyhug_records)
There’s a stillness, as the sun begins to disappear into a Pepto Bismol sky, where familiarity blends itself into all means of implementation. What feels to be grown from that moment is the work of Chicago folk duo, Sleeper’s Bell, whose tender and articulate sound thrives in that stillness of contemplation. Brought out by the gentle whims of Blaine Teppema, a librarian by day, the music of Sleeper’s Bell is as simple as writing a diary entry and as bold as reading it out loud from a stage. With the recent addition of guitarist Evan Green, whose style lends a textured composition to Teppema’s hushed ballads, the duo have begun to grow into an unforgettable form. With their 2021 debut EP Umarell recently getting reissued by Angel Tapes, the new Chicagoland tape extension of Fire Talk Records, Sleeper’s Bell are bringing out their delicate beauty from the quietest parts of Teppema’s vivid memories and routine surroundings.
“Two raccoons and a big dead deer/What we saw on the long drive here,” opens the EP and the track, “Big Dead Deer”. A folky strum and a periodic slide guitar lets the narration flow freely as Teppema sings from a sincere whisper. With its simple and catchy melody that puts innocence in motion, her poetic rhyme scheme is reminiscent of those early nursery rhymes from childhood; picturesque on the surface; a distraction from a real grief at its core. As her writing goes, Teppema puts weight on each line, with revealing memories, blunt imagery, and shifting moods; each song telling a full story in the most simplicit form. “The air, the air, the air/I wish you could have been there,” she sings through her breathy vocals, leaving it out in the open and defining a stretch of loneliness in the song, “Morning”. Such a fragile sound, even the creaks of shifting fingers on the tough guitar strings are as emotionally attuned as Teppema’s words. It’s a patient song, growing from the patience of her day-to-day life; feeling stuck to where simple acts like cleaning out the ashtray become a requisite of survival.
Reflection on Umarell doesn’t necessarily warm that typical glow of nostalgia, but rather sets boundaries for Teppema when it comes to reciting it. The rising viola runs played by her dad, Jeff Teppema, turn “Phone call” into a stunning composition, unstirred as she tries to accommodate for change. “God bless the sun and flowers,” opens the song “New,” as Teppema claims placement in the beautiful consistencies of the world. As the song meanders, although weighed down by a stagnant bass, her thoughts and fixations inevitably float off into the sky; “i think i've had enough, it's me that i'm afraid of/I'll lay outside and wait for somebody new.” The EP closes with “Forever, For Always, For Certain,” a Richard Dobson cover, performed with purity and a level of trust, extending the unknown classic into Sleeper’s Bell’s own world of hushed regards and gentle understanding.
The physical reissue tape of Umarell also contains a handful of B-side tracks and demos. “Corner,” a brief song, refreshed by a lo-fi drum machine and the oscillating rattle of guitar strings, is being prepped as a one off single. “Bored (Demo)” and “Hey Blue (Demo),” with Green’s addition of his melodic guitar stylings, are a sneak peek into the first Sleeper’s Bell LP that is currently in production. This reissue not only brings a wider attention to a band that has worked upon charm and merit, but growing into a sound that floats to Teppema’s lyrical weight, also gives them the room to grow into their fullest form yet.