FEATURE: Spotlight: Matthew E. White

FEATURE:

Spotlight

Matthew E. White

___________

IT may seem unusual…

featuring an artist in Spotlight who has been around for years. Even though Matthew E. White is a seasoned artist whose debut solo album, Big Inner, was released in 2012, he is someone who has not reached every listener. I feel he is a musician whose fanbase is large, yet there is a whole audience who has not discovered him. I am going to finish with some reviews for his excellent album of this year, K Bay. Before that, I want to introduce some 2021 interviews White has conducted. Actually, prior to that, Domino provide some biography about an exceptional talent:

“Matthew E. White never expected to see his name in the bright lights. By the time White released his solo debut, Big Inner, in 2012, he was already a decade deep into the tightly knit creative orbit of Richmond, Virginia. He had cofounded a series of polyglot bands with his closest pals and jumped at any compelling collaborative invitation; Big Inner wasn’t a lark, per se, but it felt at first like a new thread within an already rich tapestry. But the album was rightly lauded as a triumph, a modern reappraisal of classic American songcraft that unified gospel, jazz, and incandescent Brill Building pop in seven rapturous tunes. At 30, White inched toward stardom, while Spacebomb, the production house and label he founded, emerged as a mighty new imprimatur.

K Bay, White’s first album in six years, is the astounding record he has forever aspired to make. A bold reclamation of independence and identity, K Bay establishes White as one of his era’s most imaginative and audacious songwriters, composers, and bandleaders. These 11 pieces are retro-futurist magic tricks that feel instantly classic and contemporary, the product of a musical mind that has internalized the lessons of his idols and used them to build a brilliant world of his own. You will immediately recognize White here, singing softly of his big-hearted cosmography of love and wisdom and botanical metaphors; you will be stunned, though, by the dazzling density and relentless wonder of his ideas. K Bay moves with the absolute freedom and force of a debut thrillride; it exudes the sophistication and subtlety of a revivified veteran who knows exactly what he wants to hear and just how to get it”.

The thirty-nine-year-old from Virginia is one of my favourite artists of the moment. Despite his experience as a solo act and the fact he has released two collaborative albums, Gentlewoman, Ruby Man with Flo Morrissey, and Broken Mirror: A Selfie Reflection with Lonnie Holley, he is someone who is going to release a lot more material. The first interview is from 15 Questions. They asked him about his start in music and whether he still faces challenges:

“When did you start writing/producing music?

When I was 11.

What or who were your early passions and influences?

The Beach Boys and Chuck Berry
What was it about music and/or sound that drew you to it?

Impossible to say, you don't think about these things as a 5 year old. It put a smile on my face.

For most artists, originality is preceded by a phase of learning and, often, emulating others. What was this like for you: How would you describe your own development as an artist and the transition towards your own voice?

A work in progress.

How do you feel your sense of identity influences your creativity?

Tremendously I’m sure. But almost completely subconsciously - I'm not thinking of identity at all when I’m working.

What were your main creative challenges in the beginning and how have they changed over time?

Finding your own style, which is essentially the way you solve problems - that’s been the challenge from the beginning and has essentially remained the same.

As creative goals and technical abilities change, so does the need for different tools of expression, be it instruments, software tools or recording equipment. Can you describe this path for you, starting from your first instrument?

Things change, and remain unchanged unrelated to one's creative goals or technical proficiency all the time - so I find this a flawed question.
I started playing drums and putting a tape deck on the floor. Now, I play a lot more things, and record them in a lot of different ways. For me to describe the space in between those places is impossible in this format.

What supports this ideal state of mind and what are distractions?

Trying everyday, and putting your phone away.

Are there strategies to enter into this state more easily?

Developing the muscle memory of work ethic. But also to make sure and stay having fun.

Music and sounds can heal, but they can also hurt. Do you personally have experiences with either or both of these?

One time I listened to only Trenchtown Rock for a month after a breakup. Live at The Roxy.

Where do you personally see the biggest need and potential for music as a tool for healing?

I don’t think about music like this. It’s a tool for everyone to use differently, who am I to say how someone should use music.

There is a fine line between cultural exchange and appropriation. What are your thoughts on the limits of copying, using cultural signs and symbols and the cultural/social/gender specificity of art?

There’s a lot of important longform work about this, I certainly can't get to the nuance of this in this format. Be sensitive to both how you make things, and to where your blindspots are. There’s a lot to learn, keep on learning, approach this ground with a genuine heart”.

It seems like K Bay is the album that Matthew E. White has always wanted to make. That means, in a way, it is the perfect reason to spotlight an artist who is entering a new phase of discovery and fulfilment. American Songwriter spoke with White about the making of one of this year’s best albums:

“Songs start from dust and end somewhere else,” Matthew E. White tells American Songwriter. “I chase songs and, sometimes, I find one. I wrote these ones for myself. I want a listener to listen for themselves and take away whatever they need.”

For the Virginia-based singer-songwriter, coming to a place where he could write a new batch of songs for himself has been a journey six years in the making. In 2013, he put out his debut solo record, Big Inner, which became a niche hit. Essentially overwhelmed by the success, he admits now that he “rushed” his follow-up LP. After that, he stepped away from his solo work to find a new level of fulfillment and creativity through working with others, like Natalie Prass, The Mountain Goats, Flo Morrisey, and more.

But now, the 39-year-old virtuoso is back—his third album, K Bay, is due September 10 via Domino. On June 1, he put out the first single from this new era: “Genuine Hesitation,” a driving indie rock exploration of finding contentment with life. On July 19, he followed that up with “Electric,” a musing on working-class existence clad with an arrangement that’s almost like a lo-fi Steely Dan or a modern R. Stevie Moore.

Then, on August 17, White unveiled his latest single: “Nested,” a laid-back indie track complete with rhythmic guitars, a fuzzed-out bass, crisp vocal layering, and splashes of irresistibly cool riffage. Above it all, White delivers an intimate and revealing performance, with some of his favorite lyrics he’s written to date.

“‘Nested’ is one of the most personal songs I’ve written,” White said. “A song about whatever the opposite of coming-of-age is. It was recorded after two intense, transformative days of rehearsal, in one magic take that showcases the distilled, in-the-moment, sledgehammer power of the band.”

Pieces of that recording process were captured on camera by Shawn Brackbill in the vibey, nostalgic music video for “Nested,” which came out alongside the single. Showing off White’s troop of collaborators doing their thing, you really can feel the raw magnetism of the band in action. Conveying the joy of the studio process and speaking to the intimacy of K Bay as a whole, “Nested” and its video are the perfect final peek into the new period of White’s artistry”.

I am going to get to some reviews for K Bay. Loud and Quiet provided their take on an album that, in my opinion, takes the extraordinary music of White to new heights:

“I’ve always had the concentration you needed to get it right,” affirms Matthew E. White on the opening track of his first solo record since 2015. It may have been six years, but don’t let that dampen your confidence in the Virginia-born songwriter and producer’s attention span. Scarcely six months have passed since Broken Mirror: A Selfie Reflection, his brilliant collaboration with Lonnie Holley, landed. Furthermore, in that intervening period, he’s been busy recording with Flo Morrissey, producing for Natalie Prass, running his Spacebomb label, and building K Bay – the home studio which lends its name to his third full-length offering.

On K Bay, White focuses on pristine production across these 11 songs, many of which exceed five minutes in length. Throughout, the percussion is unrelenting (the sheer intensity behind every beat is enough to make you sweat), while the correlation between fat bass riffs and dexterous guitar licks on ‘Nested’ and ‘Genuine Hesitation’, in particular, are obnoxiously groovy. The sonic audacity characterising this LP works because White wholeheartedly embraces excess – in emotion as well as instrumentation.

In creating the multifaceted arrangements, White recorded the tracks twice. Once in a conventional band set-up performing the various parts, and then again with a larger band improvising along to the first take, using the tempo as a guide. The marriage between these styles of play, more often than not, brings out the best in each other in the final piece. ‘Felt Like An Ax’ and the sprawling ‘Only In America / When the Curtains of the Night are Peeled Back’ are resplendent examples of how White stitched fabrics of varying tones and textures to make a perfectly balanced patchwork of sound.

At the core of the record is the revival of 1970s funk that has influenced so many artists in recent years, but White doesn’t rely entirely on this resurgence. There are tender moments on the Kinks-like acoustic ballad ‘Shine A Light For Me’, and disco hooks erupting on ‘Judy’. In all, an impressive display of dynamism from Matthew E. White”.

To end, I will source Pitchfork’s view of Matthew E. White’s K Bay. I know that he will keep on making music and evolving his sound. K Bay is White at his most assured and natural. It is a wonderful album that I would urge anyone to check out:

“K Bay reunites White with many of the textures from his previous release, a collaboration with Lonnie Holley. A kaleidoscopic palette of strings, winds, harp, xylophone, electric piano, and analog synthesizer leaves no hue unshaded. White’s slightly louche vocal style resembles Matthew Dear, or even, when backed by the mottled cool jazz of “Fell Like an Ax,” of the usually incomparable King Krule. White’s newfound boldness as a singer is but one way that K Bay diverges from his prior records, where his reverence for his musical heroes was such that sometimes you could barely hear him. Compared to his lambent debut, Big Inner, which was softened by gospel and country strains, the grooves are heavy, decked out in deep-pocket basses and agile palm-muted guitars. They also pry White’s capacious purview even wider, making inroads into new-wave pop (The Cars loom especially large), no-wave dance-punk, and krautrock.

Though almost every song is captivating in its own way, one commands special attention. On a record otherwise pervaded by vague musings on personal matters, “Only in America/When the Curtains of the Night Are Peeled Back” is White’s attempt to address racial injustice. It’s a beautiful, complicated song that rotates on at least two axes, as chamber-pop melts into jazz and Randy Newman shades into Bon Iver. White’s perspective on the subject might evoke different responses in different listeners, or in the same listener at different times. For me, the bridge between his windy verses and the invocations of names like Philando Castile is too far to bear the moral weight. The song shows White to be a sensitive Virginian, but cropping up on this apolitical record, it comes across as thunder borrowed rather than earned.

“Only in America” arrives a little more than halfway through K Bay, and while the album swiftly corrects course, it never again quite reaches the heights of the first half. But even the slighter tracks would be standouts on a lesser record. If White’s gambits start to repeat, they do so in high style with “Never Had It Better,” a big-water wave of eddying piano and surging strings, and the drag-racing beach-jazz of “Judy.” The sound of K Bay is so good—so plump, so crisp, so tapered and whooshed—that White can seem like a studio hermit whose talent keeps thwarting his solitude. Spacebomb, the label and studio he operates with vintage gear and house musicians, became a lightning rod over the past decade, and eventually, he had to build a second studio to get away from it all. That home studio, Kensington Bay, has given both life and a name to this record: It illustrates how White thrives at the center of his own musical cosmology”.

If you are not familiar with Matthew E. White, then go and follow him. Such a great musician and creative spirit who has produced one of 20201’s best albums with K Bay. That is one big reason why I wanted to highlight him here. His fans will look on with interest to see what White comes up with next. Whatever it is, it will be pretty special. When it comes to Matthew E. White and music, he is…