Into Live Music Review: Matthew C.Whitaker
It’s not every Tuesday I attend a chilled-out singer-songwriter gig upstairs in Glasgow’s Nice N Sleazy while a death metal cacophony penetrates through the floor as if it’s made of wafer – but that’s Glesga for you, I suppose. Or maybe it’s more a Nice N Sleazy thing, given the established and ever-popular indie venue attracts an eclectic range of bands and artists, something that applies to their audiences too.
The artist the death metal was interrupting was Matthew C. Whitaker, better known as a member of electronic crossover rock band HENGE, touring his solo material off the back of the release of his second album, Songs for the Weary, which came out in February this year.
Rather than being put off by the noise from below, Whitaker played through it with confidence, opting to see the funny side instead of getting annoyed. “I’ll outstay them with my long-winded lullabies,” he announced, much to the amusement of his appreciative audience.
It’s the first time I’d been at a gig upstairs in Nice N Sleazy, the corner to the right of the entrance cordoned off for Whitaker and his gear which included a couple of retro pieces of kit, namely a drum machine and a 1981 Suzuki Omnichord keyboard. Despite the distraction from below, which thankfully didn’t last for the duration of his set, the vibe of the venue lent itself perfectly to his kind of performance and the balance between his vocals and acoustic guitar was spot-on.
What was most impressive though was the level of musicianship. Whitaker’s technique and timing were utterly flawless, generating a mood and level of professionalism that he clearly has experience creating and re-creating time and again. I’ve always been impressed with vocalists who can play and sing at the same time, but all the more so when guitar licks are intricate and all over the fretboard. Incorporating elements of folk, classical and jazz alongside more regular strumming, Whitaker showcased both his ability and flexibility as a musician, interspersed by top bants and audience engagement, at one point stating, “I always end with a Bond chord if I can”.
Another gig first for me was when Whitaker handed out a packet of chocolate Hob-Nobs to the audience, claiming that he couldn’t come to Glasgow empty-handed! His description or explanation of his songs were equally as engaging. The songs about money evaporating, neighbourly disputes and worried mothers were all the more relatable and impactful due to their preludes. And whilst the performance was mostly acoustic, there was sufficient variety in playing style without ever sounding like homage or imitation, the fundamental sound being consistently Matthew C. Whitaker throughout.
Opener ‘Team Games’ had a playful feel to it, reminding me a bit of Monty Python minus the lunacy. Another bright, jolly number had a European (perhaps Spanish) sound to it, a breezy piece that would sit snugly in an 80s Steve Martin film. Others, however, were more poetic and measured, channelling the likes of The Doors and The Velvet Underground. Either way, a lot of the material sounded like a perfect fit for film and TV soundtracks.
Towards the end of the set, Whitaker demonstrated his ability to play trombone and kazoo, only without either instrument. It was like he was holding pygmy versions of each in his gums, bringing them to the party at the required time, then retracting them again to sing. He also, much to the audience’s delighted, played a few HENGE songs, including ‘Indigo Dust’, which generated a clap-along, but not in a cheesy Sunday School way and – unusually – was in time.
As someone new to Matthew C. Whitaker’s solo material, I’ll definitely be checking out his back catalogue. Granted, this is only two albums, but hopefully there won’t be as big a gap between albums two and three as there was between one and two, the reason for which, according to the man himself, was being “abducted by aliens”.
Another gig first for me was witnessing an audience member gift the artist a bottle of Advocaat. It certainly didn’t look staged, and neither did Whitaker’s response when he pulled off the wrapper to reveal the custard-yellow liqueur. “Snowballs all round” he proclaimed with a smile – and as winter approaches, I could quite imagine the comforting combo of sitting by the fire, sipping a snowball and listening to Matthew C. Whitaker up loud, even if the lyrics are about money evaporating!
For more on Matthew C. Whitaker, head to his website here.
Dickson Telfer
@DicksonTelfer