Released in August of 1959, the instrumental song “Sleep Walk” became one of the year’s most unlikely Rock-n-Roll hits. Featuring steel guitar, the haunting wailing of the strings created an effect that was unparalleled to anything else created in this golden era of Rock-n-Roll. More than just a flash in the pan, not only did “Sleep Walk” hit number 1 on the charts and became the last Number 1 hit instrumental song of the 1950s, but it has a legacy that lives on sixty-five years later.
Something that has inspired countless musicians through the years and has been featured in everything from motion pictures to commercials, it could be one of the most easily recognized songs ever recorded.
The creation of two brothers, Santo & Johnny Farina; amazingly, they were barely out of high school when writing this historic piece of music. Now, decades later, Johnny Farina continues to keep the legacy of Santo & Johnny alive with new original music and regular live performances. Still having a burning passion for Rock-n-Roll, Johnny Farina himself sat down for an in-depth talk about his career in music, the story behind “Sleep Walk,” his recent works, plus more.
Cryptic Rock – You have been involved in music, essentially, your entire life. Having attained success and longevity, how would you describe your journey in music to this point?
Johnny Farina – It’s very different because it keeps changing. It is like a roller coaster. It could be really up there, but sometimes it’s down. I’ve been doing it for so many years. I was blessed to have such an opportunity to be in this business. It’s great.
Cryptic Rock – You have been doing it quite a long time. We go all the way back to 1959 when you had a major success with the song “Sleep Walk.” What was that like for you when that song came out, all of a sudden becoming really popular, and people were really enjoying and digging it?
Johnny Farina – It was something unbelievable because I was always drawn to music as a kid. Before TV, everybody would be glued to the radio for entertainment.
When I listened to artists like Frankie Laine, Bing Crosby, Frank Sinatra, Perry Como, and Billy Eckstine, I was always intrigued by their sound. In fact, I used to put my ear very close to the speakers, thinking I could catch more of the sound. My parents thought I was deaf, but it was just something that I thought the closer I got to it, the more I could absorb. All of a sudden, you start continuing with the drive and the music. Years go by before you know it.
I never forgot the first time I went to an Alan Freed show in Brooklyn to see a Rock-n-Roll Show. I saw Jackie Wilson and Fats Domino, Bo Diddley, and so many of the great artists. I was maybe just about fifteen. I said, “I’m going to be up there someday with my brother.” That’s something that came true. I’ve always thought that through life if you can think it, you can do it.


Cryptic Rock – You have to be inspired, as you said, have the passion for it, and you two did. Rock-n-Roll was still very fresh back in the ’50s. That was really the birth of Rock-n-Roll. You came up with this song that had a very unique sound to it. Nowadays, the steel guitar is not a very common instrument used in Rock-n-Roll. How did it come about?
Johnny Farina – Usually, that’s the first question that somebody will ask. I owe that to our father, Anthony. Everybody called him Tony. He was stationed during the war in Texas and Oklahoma. He was mesmerized by the sound of the steel guitar. It was used in the background of many of the great country artists, such as Roy Acuff, and people like that. He would listen to that music. He wrote home to my mom, “I want the boys to learn how to play this beautiful instrument. I think it’s called the steel guitar or Hawaiian guitar.” He was right. It’s referred to as a steel or a Hawaiian.
We lived in a predominantly Irish and Italian neighborhood. The only sounds I was used to hearing were accordion, mandolin, and regular guitar music. Getting lessons would be a challenge.
One day, my mom took my brother and me to a local music store owned by these older Italian people. They didn’t speak English, but my mom could speak Italian. All I remember her saying to the lady behind the counter was, “Chitarra Hawaiana.” She said that her husband is a professor, and he can teach any instrument.
The cost of the lesson at that time was a dollar for an hour, which didn’t fit in my mom’s income budget at the time. My dad was in the Army, and there were more important things to buy instead of spending that on a lesson. My father wrote back to my mom. Before you know it, he got injured. They sent him home. He was going to take us for lessons. He decided that he could find that in the budget. At that time, a dollar was a dollar—not like today.
He sat both of us down and said, “Listen, I want you boys to learn how to play this guitar. I can’t afford to pay for two lessons.” He had no idea about this instrument. Santo was the older one, and the older one always got first takes. It just seemed that way. My father said, “Johnny, you’ll come and watch, and then you’ll get the lesson. When you go home, you’ll do what you saw.” I said, “Okay.” We went, and maybe two months into the lessons, there was really nothing to learn because the man actually did not know how to play. He was teaching theory, the strings, how to hold the steel, the picks, and all that nonsense.
I’m 83. In those days, children were supposed to be seen and not heard. That was the saying. One day, I raised my hand because I tried to get his attention. He had a baton in his hand, and he struck me on my hand. He said in Italian he didn’t want me to interrupt the lesson. At that point, my father got up and said, “That’s the end of the lessons here.”
My father was very persistent in getting us to learn how to play. He bought us a real lap steel guitar and a Gibson amplifier. He found out that there was a Hawaiian man staying in Brooklyn, and we lived in Brooklyn. He might be able to give some lessons, but he really doesn’t live in Brooklyn. My father got the man’s address and knocked on the door.
I never saw a Hawaiian man before. This man must have been about three hundred pounds. He had a beautiful smile. My father told him who sent us. He said, “Come on in. Well, it’s not an easy instrument to play.” We sat down, and my father said, “Before we go any further, do you think it’s possible for you to maybe show us how you play?” My father was getting pretty smart now. The other guy didn’t really know how to play. He said, “Oh, sure.” He lived with an accompanist. His friend came out, and this man-made that steel talk. It was beautiful. My father really melted when he heard that sound.
His name was Fred Phillips. He said, “I’m not going to teach you music because I really don’t read music. I can show you some things that I know, and the boys will have to just take it on their own if they really want to do it.” He showed us, and we’re watching. My father had an idea. He said, “Do you like Italian food?” The guy said, “Oh, I love it.” He invited him to the house. He wanted to lock this guy in for a while, so he got to him through food. I’m laughing now because I was about nine years old when it happened.
He came over and said, “Would you mind if I bring my accompanist and also a hula dancer?” My father thought that was great. He brought this professional hula dancer. She was Irish and Hawaiian. She was very pretty. Her name was Milian. I never forgot it. I think your audience might laugh at this one. She had a sort of English accent. I heard her telling my father, I quote, “When I dance, I don’t have any undergarments.” Oh, I heard that. Little Johnny dropped his fork. My father said, “What are you doing on the floor?” “Daddy, I dropped my fork.” Meanwhile, she didn’t lie.
He gave us some more pointers, and we would just start to play by ear. Until today, I don’t read music. I do know chords because chords are structured to write songs. It’s like using a piano. I use a regular guitar. The structure of the chords will guide me where I want to go. I know the name of the chords, but I don’t know the notes. I record anything I write. I always record it. If I need it to be written down, I’ll hire somebody just to listen to it, and they can lift the notes and write them down.
We started to get pretty good at playing. The years went by. Before you know it, we had a trio in Brooklyn. I just turned sixteen, and I quit school because I wanted to become a star. My brother is three years older than me, and he was working.
I went to the Brill Building. I tried to shop “Sleep Walk” around. I only had one demo, and it wasn’t really a record. It was an acetate. You have to be careful. If you have a cheap Victrola, as they call them, the needle can eat into the record. It’s not real, so you can only get a certain number of plays out of it. I didn’t make any appointments. I bought a book on record companies and publishers. I started with the record companies.
I was only 16, so I didn’t drive. I would take the train, go to the Brill Building, knock on doors, and try to get somebody to listen to my record. I ran across the same story for most of the companies. They would say, “Leave it. What kind of music is it?” Once, I said, it was a steel guitar, “No, we’re not interested.” I said, “But it’s not Hawaiian music. It’s not cowboy music.” They weren’t interested.
I didn’t realize it was R&B. After several months, I gave up. I covered the Brill Building, but not one person listened to it. During this time, I got more angry at people. As I was walking out, I would give them some choice words and tell him, “You’ll be sorry someday.” “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Get out.”
I started to look at publishers. They all said the same story, “Listen, you have to leave it here.” I said, “I can’t. I only have one.” They said, “Okay, go.” I used to pick the publishers by their names. I thought if a name struck me, I would go to that one. One day, I said, “Trinity Music.” I’m Catholic. I said, “Wow, Father, Son, Holy Ghost. Maybe I should go there.” It was at 101 West 55th Street in Manhattan. It wasn’t an office building. It was more like co-ops. They had a kitchen and bedrooms, and there was an office there. It was like an efficiency apartment.
The door was half open. I stuck my head in there, and I saw this man sitting down. He’s about to bite into a pastrami sandwich. It was about lunchtime when I got there. He looks at me and tells me, “I know, kid, you have a hit record.” At that moment, I said to myself, “This is the miracle. This man knows I have the hit record.” I said, “How do you know that?” He said, “Everybody has a hit record.” I said, “No, but I really do.” “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Just leave it here. I’m having lunch.” I said, “You can listen to it as you’re eating.” He said, “No, I can’t do that. I need to rest.” I said, “You’re sitting down. Eat the sandwich.” He said, “Listen, kid. I have to clean my ears.” I said, “Why? Are they dirty?”
I didn’t know the terminology at the time, but he wanted to get away from sound. He was busy all day listening to records that didn’t turn him on. I didn’t want to give up on this man because I had a feeling that I could convince him to listen. Going back and forth, he said, “Listen, how many times do I have to tell you? Either leave it or go. I want to have my lunch.” I keep telling him all different ways. Finally, he said, “You are so persistent.” I said, “I tell you what. Listen to it for 10 seconds. If you don’t like it, lift up the arm and give me my record back, and I’ll go.” He says, “It’s a deal.”
I go in there, expecting to see him take me into a room with a hi-fi system with big speakers and everything. Instead, he has a little Victrola, a little portable one, with a penny on the arm so it doesn’t skip. “What the hell is this? It’s a piece of crap.” He says, “This is it.” I said, “You don’t have a big hi-fi system?” He said, “Listen, kid, everybody doesn’t have a hi-fi system. If it sounds good on here, then you’ve got a good record.” I said, “It’s going to eat my record.” He says, “It’s not going to eat your record.” We’re going back and forth. He said, “How many people listen to this record?” I said, “Nobody.” He said, “You better do it now, or don’t walk out of here.” I said, “Okay.”
He puts it on. After about maybe 8 or 10 bars, I could see this guy. I got him hooked now. He’s listening. He’s letting it play. He said, “What kind of instrument is that?” I tell him. He said, “Are you hungry?” I said, “Yeah.” He said, “You want half the sandwich?” I said, “Yeah.” I knew I had him. I said, “Can I have the pickle?” He said, “Yeah, you can have it.” That was the end of that. We became friends. He became the manager. Later on, he managed Bobby Darren and Wayne Newton; he took care of people like that. The rest is history. We found ourselves on the Alan Freed big Rock & Roll shows.


Cryptic Rock – Wow. That is quite a story. It’s amazing to hear how inspirational you were. Seeing that your father was the one who really pushed you to learn the instrument and was so fascinated with that style of sound. What was your father’s reaction when you found success after being so persistent and trying like that?
Johnny Farina – I think he was so moved. He was proud. I said, “Daddy, now you don’t have to go to work anymore. “Oh, no. I have to go to work.” I said, “Listen, I want to make so much money, and Santo’s going to make so much money. We’ll buy you a Cadillac.” “I don’t want a Cadillac.” He had a ’51 Buick Roadmaster, which was mint. It was beautiful. He said, “I have my ’51 Buick Roadmaster. I like that one.”
He never changed. He kept working. Even when his place moved to New Jersey, he would commute three hours going and three hours coming. He never took a penny from us. Finally, after I don’t know how many years, we finally convinced him. He went through cars after that Roadmaster. One after another, he always bought used cars. I said, “Dad, I want to buy you a brand-new car. I’ll buy you a Cadillac.” He said, “No, I don’t want the Cadillac.” I said, “Go to the showroom, pick any car you want.” Do you know what he goes and buys? He buys a little Comet. Standard shift with crank windows, the most economical car.
He said, “This is what I want.” I said, “Why don’t you want the Cadillac?” Cadillacs at that time were only 5,000. He said, “I want that Comet.” He had the Comet for 10 years. He liked it. He was a very simple guy. Something that probably your listeners would find hard to believe. When my father was leaving this world, he said, “Johnny, make me a promise.” I said, “What is that?” He said, “Never stop playing the steel.” That was his last words.
Cryptic Rock – He was very passionate about it. Obviously, he was very proud of both of you. That is really nice to hear. What you are describing is so indicative of the era. People were so much simpler and more modest than they are nowadays.
Johnny Farina – Yes, people were real. People did have best friends in those days. A friendship, a best friend, would last a lifetime. It’s so different today. There’s a lot of social media out there. I hate to be old-fashioned, but a lot of it corrupts young minds. Not all of it, but there’s a lot of bad things out there that influence young minds.
Cryptic Rock – You are absolutely right. You still perform and play the instrument, too.
Johnny Farina – I just got back from Italy recently. I was at a festival in Senigallia, Italy. If you go on Facebook, you’ll see. I have an assistant that put up a couple of clips from the performance. There were around five thousand people at the show. It was great to be out there and play. In October, I was on the Malt Shop Memories Cruise. It’s a Rock-n-Roll cruise. I did that for a week. Then I got some other work to do. I’m working on next year for a big LA show in February. I’ve been busy.
Cryptic Rock – That is exciting. the Malt Shop Memories Cruise had a great lineup!
Johnny Farina – Yeah. They’re already booking for next year. It’s really hard to get on that ship. Before we even did the 2024 cruise, they were already selling tickets for 2025.
Cryptic Rock – Fantastic! It shows that classic Rock-n-Roll from the ’50s into the ’60s is timeless music that people enjoy. It transcends those decades.
Johnny Farina – Yes, it does. It’s something that was real. The artists of that time were real. If you look at the successful hit records, as they say, you can hear a hit record today that was recorded forty to fifty years ago. Look at “Sleep Walk.” That alone is the biggest instrumental on the planet. It’s the most used in commercials and movies. If you saw the Mattress Firm commercial, it was all over. If you had seen The Irishman (2019), it would have been there. The most recent was in 2023’s Priscilla.
Cryptic Rock – The movie that is most incorporated with “Sleep Walk” is 1987’s La Bamba about Ritchie Valens because it fits perfectly in the ending scene.
Johnny Farina – Absolutely. As a matter of fact, they’re making a new La Bamba. I was just booked for a Valentine’s Day show. It’s going to be out in LA. A lot of the crowd is Chicano. The Latino crowd loves La Bamba. When I play those shows, at the end, they wait for the end of “Sleep Walk,” and they all yell out, “Ritchie!” Can you imagine four or five thousand people yelling out, “Richie?” It’s a song that made its mark.
Bruce Morrow said it was a song that just changed a lot of the music. Alan Freed broke “Sleep Walk” in New York. He said when he first heard it, “This is a song that’ll live forever.” Some people at one time hired a well-known musicologist to actually dissect why it’s so popular through the years. It never became an oldie. From my time, from ’59, they’re all labeled oldies. “Sleep Walk” has never been an oldie. It’s transcended through the years. I just got another commercial in Europe with it.
I performed a show at the Cutting Room in New York on the sixtieth anniversary of “Sleep Walk.” I had a party there, and I actually made a new version of “Sleep Walk.” It’s called “Sleep Walk 2019.”
You can’t imagine the artists that have covered “Sleep Walk.” There was Eric Clapton, Joe Satriani, Diana Ross and The Supremes. Brian Setzer did it and won a Grammy for it. Then there was Jeff Beck, Chet Atkins, Les Paul, Larry Carlton, Danny Gatton, Avengers, Robby Krieger from The Doors, Al Kooper, Deftones, James Burton, Modest Mouse, Al Caiola, and Santana. Renee Olstead did a great version of singing it. It inspired John Lennon to write “Free as a Bird.” Pete Green from Fleetwood Mac was inspired by “Sleep Walk” to write “Albatross.” If your audience goes to www.santoandjohnny.com, you’ll see on my page all the people who recorded “Sleep Walk.”


Cryptic Rock – So many people have been inspired by the song.
Johnny Farina – Yeah. So it’s a song that you just have to hear the first three notes, and you go – I know that song.
Cryptic Rock – Most certainly. Do you have any new songs that you have written that you are going to record?
Johnny Farina – I wrote one for a project that was going to be on an HBO series. It’s called “Bensonhurst.” That’s out on Spotify. There’s another one I recorded with my best friend, Johnny Maestro. I wrote a song called “Bayou Man,” and Johnny sang some background music. He’s passed away now.
There’s one called “Hard Run 531.” I wrote quite a few songs that are out there. Sometimes, I get in a writing mood, and then sometimes, I don’t. When I do, I stay in the studio and keep doing it. It’s like a cycle in life.
Cryptic Rock – Exactly. Everyone should check out the new music. We have talked about the music and the history of Rock-n-Roll. You brought up some really interesting points about how you came up, how you learned, and your upbringing. It just makes one think about how different things are nowadays in all aspects of life.
Johnny Farina – Oh, yeah. Years ago, I told my wife, ” The world is changing. I see so many things happening. It seems people’s respect for each other is decreasing. There’s going to be a major change in the world.”
Cryptic Rock – Yes. As you mentioned before, playing is not so much about playing the notes properly as it is about the feel of the music.
Johnny Farina – Yes, that’s true. I did an article probably 30 years ago. I was in LA. A reporter was intrigued by the sound. He said, “Do you have any steel guitar records at home?” I said, “No, I don’t have any.” He said, “Do you ever listen to any other steel players?” I said, “No. I like to listen to vocals like Sinatra, Tony Bennett, Billy Joel, and people like that.” He said, “I noticed the way you play. Your phrasing is the way Sinatra would sing a little behind the beat. That’s what intrigues me about your playing.” I said, “Thank you.” It’s all in the phrasing because you could be a fast player on steel, or you can just play one note, and that could wipe out one hundred notes.
Cryptic Rock – Completely understood. It is so interesting because what you play is so human. Modern music today, at least what we hear on the radio, is so very processed. It does not feel human. It’s hard to connect with music.
Johnny Farina – It sounds mechanical.
Cryptic Rock – Exactly!
Johnny Farina – I have a band in Italy, and I also play with this 18-piece orchestra. We did the flip side of “Sleep Walk” and “All Night Diner.” The 18-piece band was unbelievably great. I had charts made here, sent them out to them, and we had a rehearsal before my show. They only had to play through it one time because they could read anything. If you listen to them by themselves, they’re mechanical because they’re reading note for note. It’s very hard to be part of it when you’re just reading paper.





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