(Before every song he performs, Matt needs to get himself into the proper headspace. Here, he's seen ruminating over the sense of loss and guilt he experienced the first time he ran over a squirrel. © 2009 Sylvia McFadden.)
The Centre in Vancouver for Performing Arts is not very rock-and-roll. Everything is calculated; there are seat numbers, middle-aged women as ushers in matching uniforms, and gentle elevator Muzak to welcome you into the theatre. There's no moshing allowed at The Centre. Only bored looking security guards at either end of the stage and official-sounding announcements before each performer comes on.
Matthew Good came onstage a little fatter, a little balder than I expected. Casually dressed in a blue button-down long-sleeved shirt and jeans, there's nothing about him that particularly hints at his career as a widely-known Canadian rock musician; he looks more like a friend's dad than a three-time Juno award winner. As the polite applause died down, Matt ditched the glasses and started with "The Boy Who Could Explode" in the dim blue glow of the spotlight.
Most of Matt's songs come out of personal struggles. His lyrics seem to be the product of a deep misery and as Matt's face fell into shadow (as it frequently did over the course of the evening), the weight of his words were evocative and intentioned to depress. As the night wore on, we also learned that Matt is a smart man, a very lyrically-driven songwriter, and a crusader of sorts in local and global politics. He tells his audience how the 2010 Olympics are costing Vancouver more than money, then drives the point home with "The Vancouver National Anthem". We have bigger problems than attracting tourists when, "Out of the alleys / Are needle-strewn fields."
What did being at the Matt Good concert feel like? Well, it felt like being in the middle of someone's existential crisis. Matt's prodding melancholy vocals, the moody lighting and intermittent clouds of stage fog turned this concert into a moral philosophy class for the pot-smoking indie rockers of Vancouver. That being said, Matt's musical style is a bit repetitive. Three-quarters of his songs started off with all the spotlights on Matt while he played something acoustic and crooned moodily into his microphone. After the first verse, the band came in and swung their rock cocks around for the chorus, until the next verse when Matt took over again on acoustic, as miserably as Matt could muster. Melancholy is his signature.
Closing admirably on "Empty's Theme Park", Matt kept his fans going enough to demand a lengthy encore. His message to Vancouver remains clear: Many of us may be proud of the changes coming to Vancouver in the next few years, but once it's all over and done with, we may just find ourselves "Champions of Nothing".
Matthew Good came onstage a little fatter, a little balder than I expected. Casually dressed in a blue button-down long-sleeved shirt and jeans, there's nothing about him that particularly hints at his career as a widely-known Canadian rock musician; he looks more like a friend's dad than a three-time Juno award winner. As the polite applause died down, Matt ditched the glasses and started with "The Boy Who Could Explode" in the dim blue glow of the spotlight.
Most of Matt's songs come out of personal struggles. His lyrics seem to be the product of a deep misery and as Matt's face fell into shadow (as it frequently did over the course of the evening), the weight of his words were evocative and intentioned to depress. As the night wore on, we also learned that Matt is a smart man, a very lyrically-driven songwriter, and a crusader of sorts in local and global politics. He tells his audience how the 2010 Olympics are costing Vancouver more than money, then drives the point home with "The Vancouver National Anthem". We have bigger problems than attracting tourists when, "Out of the alleys / Are needle-strewn fields."
What did being at the Matt Good concert feel like? Well, it felt like being in the middle of someone's existential crisis. Matt's prodding melancholy vocals, the moody lighting and intermittent clouds of stage fog turned this concert into a moral philosophy class for the pot-smoking indie rockers of Vancouver. That being said, Matt's musical style is a bit repetitive. Three-quarters of his songs started off with all the spotlights on Matt while he played something acoustic and crooned moodily into his microphone. After the first verse, the band came in and swung their rock cocks around for the chorus, until the next verse when Matt took over again on acoustic, as miserably as Matt could muster. Melancholy is his signature.
Closing admirably on "Empty's Theme Park", Matt kept his fans going enough to demand a lengthy encore. His message to Vancouver remains clear: Many of us may be proud of the changes coming to Vancouver in the next few years, but once it's all over and done with, we may just find ourselves "Champions of Nothing".
* * * * *
Matt Good played The Centre in Vancouver for Performing Arts on November 9 - 10, 2009. Special thanks to Live Nation.
1 comments:
"Matthew Good came onstage a little fatter, a little balder than I expected." come on now, that's just mean and uncalled for. everyone gets old, how would you like it if people were constantly pointing out your flaws? it takes a lot of balls to come back from a breakdown, serious mental illness and the transition from band to solo artist. have a little compassion.
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