Scott Matthew
Scott Matthew

THE REVIEW

The craft of the songwriter is not an easy one, especially in times when everything is evaluated with labels and appearances. Sometimes I find myself approaching new proposals of a more or less singer-songwriter nature, and unfortunately, my feelings are almost always negative: I hear a lot of soulless stuff, empty, pretentious, made to please certain musical critics and audiences who know exactly what they want to hear and be told; I'm not like that, I don't want to be fed, I don't like ready-made food, I like to be surprised, I enjoy appreciating an artist out of pure whim, for a positive feeling, not for some article in glossy magazines or for the approval of some bigwig and opinion-maker. I'm a great egocentric, I know it and I take pride in it, but even we egocentrics have a heart and feel the need, more than anyone else, to find something in which to see ourselves, in which to identify personally rather than admiring from afar some masterpiece recognized by a broad and indistinct "mass."

An album like Scott Matthew's self-titled debut is like rain in the desert: extremely rare, and extraordinarily beneficial in its effects. First of all, it's pure and simple folk singer-songwriting, contaminations are a nice thing but when overdone, they end up being harmful, creating unfortunate uniformities and flattening to a trend, when instead every true artist should have their own spirit and colors. Secondly, this is an album of ballads, all very simple and essential, each with its own load of small traumas, emotions, and insecurities, yet the sobriety and sense of restraint of this Australian folksinger transplanted to Brooklyn leave no room for excessive pathos or cheap radio-friendly sentimentality. Consequently, the album has a very sweet and delicate sound, the sound of a healthy and liberating release that makes you feel better, stimulates serenity and a smile rather than leading one to wallow in a "beautiful and damned" whirlpool of negativity, and to complete the work there is an extraordinary voice, vibrant and charged with emotion, a warm and velvety timbre of rare depth and gentleness, some might consider it an angel's voice, but I detest this tacky and sickly-sweet way of saying it, so for me, it is simply the splendid voice of a sensitive and sincere man. Another advantage that makes this record wonderful is undoubtedly its clarity, its simplicity: its folk and piano ballads are often enriched by some orchestral embellishment, but everything remains within the realm of essentiality, without straying into certain pop-operatic pomposities that appeal to those who are inclined to such tastes. Scott Matthew sings of loneliness, shyness, discomfort towards a cynical and depersonalized world, but despite this, some songs manage to be very powerful and immediate, with vibrant and majestic melodies well supported by a vocal presence more unique than rare, capable of giving chills and deep emotional vibrations, like "Abandoned", "Ballad Dear", and "Market Me To Children", a poignant and desperate rejection of a regimented society dominated by the motto produce-consume-die, alternating with more subtle episodes, like the sweet "Habit" and "In The End" and the lost and alienating simplicity of lullabies like "Little Bird" and "Surgery", which seem to emerge from the mists of the psyche. Also "Amputee", a short, fleeting opening track, almost tiptoeing, follows this intimate approach, underlined by fragile vibraphone chimes, but it delivers a disarmingly sincere and beautiful question, for me the most representative of the entire work, "To ask is selfish of me, but when you leave my company do you sometimes feel like an amputee?"

Essentially, Scott Matthew is a folksinger of the old school, who displays his essence without distorting it with unnecessary avant-garde certainties, and this purity is undoubtedly a product of a melodic sensitivity far superior to the average, capable when necessary of delivering lighter and sunnier moments, songs full of tranquility and grace, like the beautiful "Prescription", a melody of perfect instant classic quality, "Laziest Lie" with the languid and discreet charm of a lazy countryside waltz, revisited with slightly more lively tones in "Upside Down", which provides another moment of simple and extraordinary authorial incisiveness, "I don't care if the world is upside down, if you're lost or you're found, I know my feet will stay far from the ground if you'd just stick around with me