“When I get home, I’m gonna clean up my house…” Matthew Houck raises his voice in an old lady’s apartment with leftovers from the nightly festivity in front of his own Graceland interpretation. The fair-haired man with the moony glance behind Phosphorescent knows how to lull his environment with his music and keeps it prick-eared with comforting yelping, howling and multilayered sound and vocals. He came to Austria for playing a show at the Donaufestival, where he met his friends from These Are Powers. Anna invited him to join them in a kitchen party in Vienna and as luck would have it he played an unannounced supporting act just the night before. It’s Monday noon now, Matthew leans next to Anna’s and his handiwork, takes another sip of his black coffee, squints out of the window and asks if his hair was okay as he had a couchsleepover with his bonnet on his head. After the hustle and bustle of the last night and with the workaday goings out in the streets the mournful yodel of Matthew smotheres the empty rooms. All the details from the light breeze that swirls the flowery curtains, the blinking banana in the hall – Matthew is jocular -, the overturned drum set in the living room, Graceland in your back – still jocular – and not to mention the insistent crack in Houck’s voice create a nearly surreal fragility. “…but I’m gonna go right back roaming.” The bags are packed.

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