Matt Maltese

Matt Maltese’s debut album ‘Bad Contestant’ is about to be released, and So Young got in touch to talk to him about it... to talk about the usual stuff: how it sounds, how it feels, how he feels about how it sounds. Matt is funny, but mostly Matt is honest, both with himself and with his audience. On answering these mundane questions, you come to realise that Matt is lucky to have the means to even release an album- and he knows it. If you can survive, if you can make music and stay afloat, then quite frankly, you’ve made it. Of course, Matt is doing more than just surviving, he’s finally arrived in a suit of pastel pink and he’s got the confidence to back it up- but he is so much more than the heartbreak kid. He’s playful, brave and totally aware and I think he’s the absolute pinnacle of a what a modern songwriter should strive to be. Totally unafraid and totally in tune.

Q: You supported Baxter Dury recently in Paris, how was that?

A: Yeh I did, with Jarvis Cocker djing- ridiculous- it was fucking weird doing soundcheck and then hearing Jarvis in the background just like “me monitors a bit fuzzy”. But he watched my set and stuff, it was mad, really cool.

Q: You’ve been making and recording music for 2 or 3 years now, which is a long time, but it kind of feels like you’ve just arrived. With the last few singles you’ve released you’ve found your sound, your aesthetic, and for want of a better word, your ‘brand.’ Is it creatively conflicting to feel like everything has got to be in this particular tone, or this particular colour palette?

A: I guess I don’t think about it too much because I’ve changed a lot in the past, or I still feel like I could change. It’s nice that people feel like I’ve arrived to something, but I don’t necessarily feel like that. In a year, I don’t know what songs I could be writing or what kind of colour palette I could be using…

Probably the defining thing is that I feel the most comfortable I have felt with my music since I started, so I suppose that gives a sense of consistency because I have an album written/recorded with the same headspacewhich is definitely what you want, I think.

Q: You’re right about consistency, the album and you’re live shows feel a lot more streamlined, like a narrative within a narrative. And for you, personally, when you listen to your album, what does it feel like or sound like for you?

A: I’ve tried to make a point of not listening to it too much since we finished recording, I quite like the idea of leaving it behind in a sense. I think the main feeling I did have was that I’d been pretty open with myself. It was important that the comedy didn’t override the sentiment the whole time and so I was happy that I didn’t let the comedy get too much in the way and there was a part of me that was still vulnerable on the record. It feels honest, it really feels like me, but I also love the input from Jonathan Rado [Foxygen] and Alex [Burey], and the soundscapes they created, I really enjoyed that part of it aswell.

Q: Are you scared of getting to a point where you might dislike the album? Is that why you like to leave it behind, in the moment?

I mean sometimes; there are songs from a year and a half ago now which I just don’t like. But I keep trying to remember that I feel the most comfortable with this record than I have with any other piece of music, you know, straight after I’ve recorded it.

Q: So how do you think that your relationships with your songs change over time? Especially considering a lot of them sound highly specified and anecdotal.

A: I’m not sure, but it’s definitely specific to each song. Most of the time I’ll just have an enjoyable nostalgia with them because (I know this sounds really corny) but it’s like reading your diary. But, then there are times when you recognise that person less and less. You know, if I was feeling sad at a particular time in the past, I can access that sadness later but I’ll never be in that place again, and I wouldn’t have that kind of naivety of heartbreak. Or, if you finally come to an understanding of things, you can’t really have that epiphany moment ever again. There are some songs which don’t feel that different each night, but there are other songs which are very situation specific, and it just goes hand in hand with how you have evolved as a person.

Q: This sound that you created with Rado and with Alex is unique and fantastic and feels honest but is still stylish… Was it important for you to remove yourself from London to get this sound?

A: I think my time with Rado in LA and at Alex’s out in Purley, which always feels way out of London, I felt like I could like myself a bit more. You feel less covered by self-loathing and thinking about what other people are thinking of you, and I also felt like I could be a lot more playful. It seems like people are scared to be too playful in London, and I’m not sure if that is even a justified emotion because there are a lot of playful artists here- it’s not a miserable town- but it does feel like there’s something of a weight off when I’m around Alex and Rado who I respect so much. You’re being playful with each other and it feels like that’s okay because it’s about us and it’s about this room and my relationship with that person and nothing else kind of matters. That sounds intense, but I think I make the best music when I’m not thinking about what people think of me or what people think that I should do next, because those things do hinder your total ease of mind and freedom and they definitely hinder your playfulness.

Q: And how do you feel that your album translates onto the live shows? How is it with the band and what do you think it brings to you?

A: I think it’s good because its a step towards what recording the songs was like, and it creates a little world around it, like having people to play off and things to play off. Playing just me and the piano for such a long time was really good but I still felt quite vulnerable, but having the band is just a great extra support. And I just feel better being around people on tour, it sounds simple, but even that just makes the whole experience a little bit more of a joint thing rather than some indulgent journey of the self, fuck that. I feel lucky, at the start I couldn’t even imagine myself with a band just because of the nature of the songs I was writing, or the fact that I wasn’t playing to that many people and financially there’s no way I could support a band.

Q: On finance, money and music is so fucked at the moment, and as an artist that I would consider successful, do you feel like you are reaping the rewards of that hard work and that outward success?

A: I think it’s hard to know because obviously I don’t know exactly what it was like before. I feel privileged enough that I can live in a room in London and afford not to have to get another day job and just do music. I don’t make a lot more money than that, and I think a lot of musicians get angry at that, you know, they expect some perks but I think I get enough perks. I get to go on tour. I know a lot of people feel cheated but I definitely don’t feel cheated. There are a lot of things that do cheat you, like streaming for example, there’s so much dark shit going on between streaming and record labels which isn’t talked about but you know, I had a record label that would pay for the recording of this album so who am I to get angry?

Q: I suppose everybody’s looking back like ‘Oh twenty years ago…’

A: Yeah ‘oh twenty years ago I could have had all the gak in the world and a studio for five nights and its like yeah ok, but that’s not the reality anymore. I think there are issues that have arisen because there isn’t loads and loads of money. You know all the acts living in London and getting signed are mostly middle class and are able to get signed because they have the advantage of already living in London. I’m lucky that I’m a southern boy who came to uni, had a student loan so that I could live and all of that. There are definitely issues and complexities in the industry concerning money and the money available to artists but I definitely wouldn’t play my own violin, its a lot harder for lots of other artists.

Q: I know you’ve had some offers, like big advert offers, do you ever feel torn? From when I knew you before you’ve definitely loosened up, so to speak- there were certain mainstream territories that you wouldn’t go near to which you’ve allowed yourself a bit of leeway with.

A: I think so. I mean there are still certain things I definitely wouldn’t do because of who I am. But there are sometimes situations where you can think that you’re also getting something out of the man rather than the man is just trying to get something out of me. I haven’t had an offer yet where I’ve thought, shit I’m really gonna have to sack off a lot of my values and take the money and I’d like to think I’ll never be in a position where I’d have to do that. I’ll always remember, looking back, how shit it was for me not being a musician, and so that often helps me come to terms with certain things.

Q: But I think people are more forgiving now, I think with the new fluidity of genre the underground and overground crossover a lot more and we give artists a lot more leeway.

A: Yeah, and I think people’s opinions of selling out are a lot less skewed. People need to understand that if daddy’s money isn’t there and if you want to be a financially independent artist you are going to have to change your ideas of what you would and wouldn’t do. Sounds a bit like I’m being Mr. Reality here, but you lose abit of your idealism as you get older.

Q: These ideas of class and privilege you talk about also feel prevalent in your music at times. We are all so aware of ourselves and our privilege, and the amount of reverse snobbery that is occuring at the moment is just something that we can’t seem to step away from. Have you ever had an experience in a song where you wanna touch on something political and find that you have to check yourself rather than allowing that lyric to be free?

A: Probably, yeah. I can’t think of any specifics but there’s definitely situations where you’re faced with checking yourself. I’m someone that is very aware of their situation and I try to stay away from those age-old punk sentiments like ‘it’s fucking hard being on the grind’ because I know that that’s not my life.

I suppose I have a heightened sense of troubles of the heart because I don’t have to worry about when my next meal is gonna be on the table. And I’m very aware that that is a flaw of the white male singer songwriters, we’re always thinking about our feelings all the time. But a lot of the time it’s good to recognise that it’s okay for me to talk about my feelings and feel like I have to hate myself for it. But that is just a trope of being aware of your position, like of course you are going to feel guilty about it.

But don’t you think that this is so recent? I can’t imagine songwriters thinking about this subject after post- punk, you know, 10 or 15 years ago? Franz Ferdinand and the Wombats certainly weren’t thinking about it. It’s something that came along with the Fat Whites, who put everyone on their toes.

A: I agree, but I think a lot of it is even wider than the Fat White Family, it’s about having such an awareness of everything because of the internet. Now, it’s far easier to see other things and not just read the Reading Chronical and believe that that’s the world. And for me, moving to London was huge for me, I saw so many different types of poeple and places that you just don’t see when you’re from a home county or whatever. But I do think it’s a good thing. I don’t think that anyone should hate themselves for whatever situation they were brought up into because that isn’t gonna move anything forward, but we need to be conscious and aware of it in everything we say and do.

Words by Georgie Jesson