Matt Harding
Commitment

A few days ago, during one of my countless raids at my favorite CD store, “Commitment” (moshi moshi records - 2003) by Matt Harding fell into my hands. Assuming the same pensive expression as Don Abbondio upon hearing the name Carneade, I continued to examine the cover, eventually feeling an inexplicable curiosity towards this album.
At that point, I decided to listen to it, and a few minutes later it was mine in exchange for 18 hard-earned euros. But I wouldn't call it a revelation, because from the very beginning of the listening, I formed the idea that “Commitment” was a nice, pleasant album, but nothing more. Not an excellent work, nor one of those pieces that imprint themselves unerringly in your mind for years.

Why get it then? Because I had the impression I had in my hands an album capable of alleviating the burden of a tough day and perhaps it was what I needed at that particular moment. The fact is, I've been listening to it for a few days now, and although I haven't changed my initial judgment, I must say that Matt Harding pleasantly surprised me with his ability to effortlessly blend acoustic, low-fi, simple, and sparse music with electronic sounds and minimal, elementary rhythms, while being melodic, melancholic, and light at the same time.
In short, he is a singer-songwriter who has encountered electronics and decided to use them to streamline folk sounds.

In terms of vocals alone, if I had to make a comparison, I wouldn't mention Nick Drake as I've read online these days. Even though it’s hard to imagine our Matt hasn’t listened to him and been influenced by him. On the other hand, I can't be sure, as the internet doesn't offer much information about this musician. In fact, beyond his British nationality, the name of the label that released the album, and the fact that this is his second album, I found nothing.

It doesn't really matter. Let's focus on the music then. Thirteen tracks in total, four of which are instrumental. Among these, I found the opening one (“What I Mean To Say) interesting, as it highlights Matt Harding's whispered voice, the true guiding thread of the album. The following track, “Flint”, bright, fairly melodic and rhythmic, sees electronic influences take over, though they remain constant throughout the album, with the sole exception of “Afternoons in December”, developed solely with voice and guitar.

Listening to it with increasing attention, I was surprised that it did not bore me. I thought his whispered voice and the occasionally languid sound of the album would tire me quickly. Instead, I continued to listen to it, continuously, without pause and without ever skipping a track, an unusual occurrence for me. I even forgot the remote control and let the album play after pressing “repeat all”. It is clear, therefore, that it is not a demanding album, quite the contrary, it’s very simple and keeps company without any stress, but it does not easily lead to an inevitable yawn. Just this is quite a merit.