Matthew Horseshit and Ten Other People

I’m really starting to feel sorry for the poor saps who claim to be a part of our music landscape but fail to ever get out and take advantage of some of the city’s finest natural resources (that said, I'm guilty for not getting out enough). Matt Horseshit, in any configuration, most of the time with Richie, is perhaps this town’s greatest songwriter, really, he is -- the band you wish had a residency at the Summit. I think I’ve said that before, if so, I’ll probably say that again. He’s so concerned with putting on a good show, one that is completely different from the last. Perhaps that why he’s rattled and roughed-up a handful of bass players – every night he’s entering the club with the anxiety of running on half a tank, pondering how to captivate with a quick set of new songs, written that day, to be “formed” by any means necessary. Granted, dealing with the spontaneity of the songs can be a challenge. If you want to play bass with them, one can dream. As long as you “feel the flow” of what his colorful spew is "getting at" on any particular night, whatever atonal skronk you churn out is going to fit right in.

This night – 10.16.08 – he played by his lonesome, something I would later try to convince him to do for the entire tour. No dice. But I think many times this is the best, purest setting in which to experience his cracked whimsy. I’m rambling, but so is he, equipped with only a sampler and a guitar he is free to span his skull for the melodies and abstracts, piecing together deeply personal jams in his own space. Times are tough, only ten people there (including headliners, who?) made it tougher, depressing as fuck in moments (especially the “Borrowed Time” cover to close it), but this brief display was rich and textured and quite possibly the quietest I’ve ever seen the guy. Though I love the full band, losing their shit in a tangle of cords and keys, here under the spotlight, on his knees, under-drank clarity abound, he also tends to shine.

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