Matt Costa's Favorite Stage is Still the Sidewalk

Matt Costa's Favorite Stage is Still the Sidewalk

Matt Costa unleashing his inner Dylan. Photo by Nolan Hall. 

OC Weekly

Tue., Feb. 12 2013 at 10:49 AM

By Arrissia Owen

Huntington Beach-bred troubadour Matt Costa headed to the misty moors of Scotland to record his latest self-titled release, out Feb. 12 (yeah, that's today!). He intended to record a rootsy, melancholy album entrenched in Americana, but once the jet landed, things got a bit cuckoo.

Instead, producer extraordinaire Tony Doogan (Belle and Sebastian, Mogwai) helped transform Costa's folky sound into sing-along handclappers full of lush orchestration, gorgeous melodies and good times.

The song "Good Times," although not really about carefree frolicking, will fool you into fun. "Early November" is reminiscent of '60s French pop, and "Ophelia" is unabashedly Dylanesque, with plaintive, sublime harp blowing. "Shotgun" sounds like pure mirth.

Costa is keeping with his tradition of performing at indie record store Fingerprints on record-release day, bringing old favorites, as well as stripped-down versions of the new songs. He likes the face-to-face time with fans and looks forward to showing off what he calls his "more mystical" sound. The Weekly caught up with Costa for a bit of a blether. 

Do you seek out the interaction with fans at intimate venues such as Fingerprints?

I try for that at any show. I like to get to know people who listen to the music. Sometimes it's interesting hearing their stories and putting a face to the people listening, and vice versa. We get to interact with one another outside of where the song takes the listener or myself.

Not so pitiful. Photo by Nolan Hall.

I saw you at a Sea Shepherd fund-raiser in Riverside back in 2010. You played a set inside the museum, and then afterward, I saw you sitting on the corner, strumming for a few fans. Do you do that a lot?

I do that sometimes because people will come out after, and they're like, "Oh, I was hoping you would play this song." And so I'm like, "I've got my guitar; I'll play it."

I know how much songs mean to me when I hear them, and musicians I respect have done that for me. There is really nothing better than that. So yeah, I'll sit there and play some songs on the sidewalk. That's why I'm out there: to play songs. So I might as well do it until the lights go off.

Who has done that for you?

Well, Donovan Leitch [1960s Scottish singer famous for "Mellow Yellow"]. I did a show with him a couple of years ago at the El Rey. . . . It was a bit of a different scenario. We rehearsed the day before the show, and I sang "Sunshine Superman" with him. There were tons of people in the room.

Then, the day of the show, I went and hung out with him one-on-one. He played me a couple of songs, just me and him. It's one thing to hear something through a microphone and a PA. But to just hear it coming out of one of your heroes--it's pretty magical.

So for the new album, you traveled to Donovan's territory, Scotland, to work with Doogan. Did the songs' direction start to change before you went on that trip, or did you travel there looking for those big production arrangements with strings to go with what you were already dreaming up?

It's a bit of both. After the previous record, I wrote a number of songs, and some of them were intended to have full bands and more production. But then I spent a good year or so leading up to the recording of this record and getting more into finger-style guitar, learning more Mozart on guitar, learning how the phrasing works with the strings.

Also, [listening to singers] such as British troubadour-style musicians, including Davy Graham, Bert Jansch and John Martin--their stuff is really folky and mostly stripped-down. So I was imagining having some string production to those kinds of songs--rainy, sort of moody records.

I started talking to Tony, and he had a vision of doing them in a sort of Ennio Morricone production. He did a lot of the 1960s spaghetti westerns. It had a really cinematic, lush, big production with strings. He likes using a lot of landscapes and horizons in the mountain ranges as inspiration for the sounds.

Once, he suggested having the Belle and Sebastian people and other Glasgow musicians contribute, and especially once I got over there, I realized it would be a shame to not focus on songs that a year ago I loved and instead use songs I had written in the months leading up. So I decided to incorporate it all.

Matt Costa performs at Fingerprint Records, 420 E. Fourth St., Long Beach, (562) 433-4996; www.fingerprintsmusic.com. Tues., Feb. 12, 7 p.m. For more information about Matt Costa, visit www.mattcosta.com.

James Fletcher rocks, tocks

Ex-Filmstar, Women drummer goes solo, at least for a bit

James Fletcher is one of my favorite Orange County musicians. He is witty, stylish, talented and a gentleman. He's been tapped by Matt Costa and Scott Weiland for his drumming skills, but most recently he's decided to back up his own talent as a frontman, resulting in his first solo CD The Booze & Clocks.

Aside from being paraded around like a piece of meat by OC Weekly last week as part of their OC's Sexiest People issue, he's also holding down the Monday Night Residency at Detroit Bar in Costa Mesa for February.

How was the show last Monday? Was it weird to be the frontman suddenly after so many years backing up others? Did you love it? Was it exhilarating? Excruciating?

It was a lot of fun. I've been fortunate to surround myself with a very strong band. That makes my part somewhat easy. It felt great to play those songs live. The record and rehearsals for the live shows have been quite time consuming. It's been the better part of a year seeing that through from making the record to getting on stage. I had the best night's sleep after I got home from playing that show last week, and it wasn't  just the whiskey.

In your bio on your web page you said that you started hashing out some old songs you had on cassette tapes. These must have been collecting dust for a while since they are on cassettes. Did you always plan to do something on your own?

I started putting the songs together for the record about three months before recording them. I used cassettes because I have a crappy tape recorder, and that was my first stage of getting rough ideas together. I hadn't ever really attempted to write songs of my own from start to finish before, but it seemed a good time. I had a bit of time and a nice, quiet spot in my garage to try it out. I had stopped touring and was getting a bit restless at home. I thought, 'Why not do something else that takes up a lot of my time and makes me no money!!'  I'm great at that.

Considering some of the concepts for these songs were written years ago, was it hard to dive back in and explore the emotions behind the lyrics? Did you end up combining old experiences with new?

The ideas were pretty fresh. I bought those cassettes brand new in Feb. 2010. Yes, they still make 'em.  New song ideas that stemmed from a life time of experiences I guess.

"Wind Whipped" is decidedly different from the rest of the album. Tell me about that song. And "Mother Oh Mother." I'm not sure why but that song made me sad.

"Wind-Whipped" was one of the two songs that came from working with my great pal and legendary troubadour, Pat Visel. He had the chord progression, and I came up with the vocal melodies and words for the tune. The other song we did that way was "Some Summer." They both have a Viselian touch, and it's classic. 

"Mother Oh Mother" was a mixture of something I'd read in a book about WWI and the basic idea of a mother. You know, the fact that if you can stand up, eat, think and wipe your backside, it's most likely thanks to your mother... well, my mother in this case. The WWI book told of how many young men cried out for their mothers while they were dying from gunshots, shrapnel and mustard gas in the trenches along The Western Front. Don't worry, I won't get all heavy and cerebral. It's the only book I've ever read.

Some of these songs sound very smooth seventies. Was that intentional? Does that come from your influences? You seem to have a penchant for low-fi seventies stuff like Bread and Buffalo Springfield. How does a guy growing up in Newport Beach gravitate to stuff like that? Why are you so un-punk rock?

We worked relatively quickly when making the record.  The engineer, Ryan Mall, only had a month to spare, and I had a limited budget. I am very happy with the outcome thanks to the money and time constraints. It's the best way to do it.  It forces you to make decisions and trust your instincts. The sound and feel of the record are what I like and what I know. The music I heard on the radio and at home as a young kid left an impression on me. I'm sure that comes through on this record. As far as punk rock goes, I grew up around it and played it, but I never loved shitty three-chord punk rock. The closest I ever got to punk was XTC,The Jam and Toy Dolls.

Can you tell me about the booze and clocks? Not the CD, but an answer to the same question you ask in the song.

Oh boy......explaining that song will be far to boring for print.   It's a bit of hope and a touch of despair all in about 3 minutes.  The rest is for your ears to decide.

For more about James Fletcher, click here for an article in the OC Weekly published recently:
http://blogs.ocweekly.com/heardmentality/2011/02/james_fletcher.php

Or visit his Facebook page at:
http://www.facebook.com/pages/James-Fletcher-Music/139676419398145