A read paper, over coffee, in the morning light is a good place to start. There are wisps of clouds floating in the blue above, like drops of creamer. There's an airy, fumbling energy about that comes across as two bodies that are halfway between being asleep still and as alert as they're going to get that day. There's a buzzing in the skin still, unable to comprehend how the night flew so quickly. It's in these hours when so much feels possible while still feeling unmanageable, especially in this groggy condition.
Matt Costa, the Huntington Beach, California, songwriter who's planting these sensations in us - of the sun burning the night away, of our lucidness getting scorched with some kind of pre-exhaustion - is into the wide sweeps and the letdowns. He writes these worlds that feel as if they run on energy created from the hum and the steam of passionate beings. When it lacks, it lacks and nothing can be powered. All it can do is lumber from the sunny spot on the floor to the chair, to the faucet, the stove or the bottle. There's a sense that these are people who are mesmerized by all the sticky nuance that's out there, that's collecting in the trees, on their own limbs - catching in their eyelashes and in their lungs. They will do something with it all one day. Or, it will do something with them.
Matt Costa Official Site