Words by Sean Moeller, Illustration by Johnnie Cluney, Recording engineered by Josh Niles at Big Light, Nashville, Tennessee
It doesn't matter what your day is or what your day is looking like today. It could be the pits. It could be a travesty. It could be back-breaking. It could be pleasant. It could be slow or hectic. It could involve much dread. It could be plain and plotting. It could be nothing that you're even having to think about. It could just be one that you're ready to be done with - good or bad. Jessica Pratt will make you forget all of it. Her songs will perform some kind of scrub of it all. Every speck of it is about to disappear completely, until she's finished playing and then it's up to you again to deal with everything that had been suspended.
The Bay Area songwriter makes everything just mellllllllllllllllllllllt. She makes it feel like you've been transported to some summer morning that's still nowhere near becoming a stiff and a bore of a summer afternoon in which everyone's just shuttering themselves away, shrinking from the unbearable heat, humidity and that attitude that it tends to take. It's a morning that you could swear was still touched with the energy of moonbeams and not entirely focused on making people sweat.
It's a morning where shoes aren't needed, where you can just pad down the wooden, back porch steps, onto the wet lawn, with a tiny mug of coffee in hand, the sand still stuck in your eyes. The sky's been made clear by the nightly power wash and, for a spell, you can feel as if there were no problems, like you were still lingering in the lines and folds of those good dreams that hang faintly.