There are moments, listening to Los Angeles band Tennis System, in which you feel as if you're standing on a grand balcony, jutting off of an expensive apartment. You've got a drink in one hand and with the other, you're leaning into a breathtaking view, one that doesn't come without a hefty price tag. You're there, with all of these other people that you've never before seen in your life and you're feeling like a classic imposter. You hardly belong there amongst that view and those people, whomever they are. But, the drinks are free and you're not sure you want to leave, even amidst the awkwardness. You'll bide your time for a little longer, daydreaming through the silence that comes to the outcast. You'll keep thinking about the person that you're supposed to be with and even the one you should be with - sometimes they're two very different people and it's good to spend some time thinking it through.
Matty Taylor sings about how nothing is as it seems and the foggy dreaminess that his band traffics in most of the time reinforces this thought, as if there was a reason to doubt the circumstances and a need to test the reliability of certain surfaces, substances and people. Everything's going as fine as it could be, up there on that balcony until suddenly you've toppled over the top railing and you're freefalling the length of the skyscraper. It's all happening in slow motion, with the air getting loud and surly, with the temperature of it dropping considerably, becoming quite cold as the ground is rushing up to catch you. Somewhere along the way, you hit a net that you hadn't seen during all of the commotion and panic and you're saved from splattering all over the concrete - but only for a moment.
Tennis System will let you look around, admire the sights and get to daydreaming once again, before you're jerked right back into another attack. The net disintegrates and you're plunging downward again. With each episode, you begin to worry less and that could be when you worry for the last time. You just can never tell.