Modern life has never been more demanding. Our attention is constantly fractured across hundreds of facets of our lives: the toils of classes and work, omniscient and preying algorithms, complex relationships, a vitriolic political sphere and so much more. Sometimes, life can feel like a slowly deflating balloon, and all we can do is cover a few pinprick holes at any time. At the day’s end (or for students, around early morning) when we finally lay down for rest, we can find ourselves completely exhausted. On “Second Sleep,” Magdalena Bay manages to transform these often overwhelming feelings into jazzy bounds and grand, ethereal swirls that dance independently in defiance of life’s demands.
The track begins with the curious tones of an electric piano as singer Mica Tenenbaum introspects:
“Second sleep is callin’ out to me /
If I don’t wake up, oh /
I have the sense not to make a mess /
I fall in love just to hurt myself”
Love is a common topic in Magdalena Bay’s music, as proven by many titles from Imaginal Disk, their 2024 opus. Look no further than vibrant tracks such as “Death & Romance” and “Love Is Everywhere.” Yet here, love is no longer a monolith. Instead, exhaustion has corrupted it — in fear of ‘making a mess’ Tenenbaum favors apathy over rekindling the implied relationship. Setting her feelings aside, she seems to steel her resolve, and sings:
“Time to toughen up, gotta get some help /
Sun’s comin’ up /
Put the coffee on and shudder on out the door”
At this moment, a veritable tidal wave of arranged strings soar over the track, coupled with a roll of drums to kick the previously mellow tune into high gear. Matthew Lewin’s spacey, meticulous production shines through as the strings and vocals swirl in harmony. Soon, the chorus cuts away to unveil an uncanny valley of synths. You can almost make out flickers of wind between buildings, passing cars — a strange semblance of urban bustle — before they warp, and crystalize into a crescendo. To me, it’s emblematic of one of the most impressive feats of the duo: their capacity to make music both ethereal and tangible, grounded in a sense of location, but also implacable.
As the song continues, the call of ‘second sleep’ persists. It’s an honest fact in life that there are many different forms of tiredness, and some can’t simply be slept away. To me, this ‘second sleep’ is wishful thinking in that regard — a desire that emotional tiredness and the burdens of daily life could simply be slept away in some mythical, secondary form of sleep. It’s even possible to read the song’s lyrics as death, a grim but plausible interpretation.
Despite this darkness, the song ends up sounding anything but downtrodden. After all, this second sleep is ‘calling,’ but Tenenbaum’s answer throughout remains unclear. Further, I find glimmers of hope in the instrumentation. As it nears its conclusion, a torrent of defiant electric guitars rip through the final lyrical laments, and drown the last flicker of eerie cityscape synths from the song. To me, it’s a statement: even if exhaustion persists, and life and love are more demanding than ever, Magdalena Bay aren’t going down without a fight.
You can listen to “Second Sleep” on all platforms now, and don’t forget to give some love to its celestial, saxophone heavy B-side, “Star Eyes.”
