Obviously, at my age I’ve taken great strides to stop worrying about how other music geeks would rate or view my own collection. Don’t let that fool you into thinking that I would remain silent if I noticed a Barry Manilow album in your “M” section regardless of how vocal you were about his influence, camp appeal, or kitschy significance.
More often, I tend to be my own worse critic and some titles and/or artist it pains me to admit that I have them or, indeed, enjoy them.
At one time, Matthew Sweet was one of those artists.
It started at the college radio station I worked for where it didn’t take much to get on the playlist (something that I was in charge of) and even the weakest of albums often held at least one track that we could fit into the schedule.
In 1989, the station received a copy of Matthew Sweet’s second album, Earth, which was originally released on A&M Records. I wasn’t familiar with his debut album Inside and read the obligatory bio sheet which hinted that he had something to do with the (then defunct) Athens, Georgia music scene and how he was an important figure in the power-pop genre.
So on both accounts, it appeared that Mathew Sweet’s Earth would be right up my alley.
Far from it: Earth was a glossy shell of power-pop and I’ll be damned if I could find one worthy cut to add to the playlist. It was bad enough for me to associate “Matthew Sweet” with “sucks” for many years to come.
A few years later, I was working for a “real” radio station (read: commercial) and we received an advance copy of Matthew Sweet’s “Girlfriend,” the title track for his upcoming album on the label that also the home for Green Jell(o)y and that chick that sang “You’ve got to lick it/Before you stick it.” Knowing that Matthew Sweet “sucks” didn’t prevent me from spinning it; after all, I needed three and a half minutes to get over the shock of having to add Michael Bolton’s “Love Is A Wonderful Thing” to the playlist because, get this, people actually liked Michael Bolton.
“What people?” You ask.
People who don’t know any better.
So imagine my surprise when “Girlfriend” came through the speakers in all of its dirty 70’s sounding glory that I had to immediately reconsider my opinion about Matthew Sweet.
When the album arrived at the station with its awesome Tuesday Weld cover and era-perfect recording techniques, I secured a copy for myself and secretly forgave Sweet for his misguided efforts in the previous decade. In terms of rock music for that period (early 90’s), Sweet was a welcomed distraction from the typical grunge that permeated alternative radio.
I think that one of the reasons why it was accepted is because there was some dirt underneath those pop songs and some killer guitar solos by the late Robert Quine and Television's Richard Lloyd.
God bless Matthew Sweet for his equally raw follow-up “Altered Beast” which further secured his approval in my (still) doubting mind.
Ditto for ‘96’s 100% Fun which featured the awesome single “Sick Of Myself” with its sickingly catching chorus (“But I’m sick of myself when I think of you/Something that’s beautiful and true/In a world that’s ugly and a lie”) and clever false ending(s).
I spun these albums in solitude and sung along with them like a little schoolgirl while publicly singing the praises of bands like Kyuss and Barkmarket.
After an impressive trifecta, Sweet stumbled a bit for Blue Sky On Mars before rebounding again for the studio exploration that was In Reverse.
In Reverse is a criminally overlooked effort and one that secured the fact that Sweet had endured the entire decade with some amazing consistency. He takes the power-pop formula that he perfected in the first part of the 90’s and makes things interesting by incorporating genre styles outside of the Big Star mold, namely an examination of the lush production strategies of the mid-to-late 60’s.
Kimi Ga Suki * Raifu, Sweet’s first entry for the new millennium is also criminally overlooked, mainly due to the fact that it’s a Japanese-only release that’s never seen an official domestic home. This is unfortunate because it has two great things going for it: 1.) It contains the Girlfriend-era line-up and 2.) It was recorded “on the fly” with minimal studio tinkering. The results are marvelous: it’s by no means a “low-fi” or poorly produced effort. It sounds fully realized and is an excellent return to form.
Admittedly, Sweet has offered up a few questionable titles as of late: a strange collaboration with Suzanna Hoffs for a covers album, and a totally misguided “supergroup” concept with Pete Droge and Shawn Mullins that resulted in one forgettable album.
Despite those stumbles, I no longer “hide” my affection for Matthew Sweet like I used to. I recently gave those aforementioned titles a spin and walked away content knowing they are in my own collection.
Girlfriend has been recently re-issued with bonus material, including the Good Friend demo material. Sure, you could view this as another money-grubbing major label tactic, or you could view it for what it really is: an awesome album just got awesomer.
3 comments:
Double thumbs up for Matthew Sweet; when he's good, he's peerless. "We're The Same" is easily one of my top-ten-of-all-time powerpop songs. Girlfriend is a flat-out classic, tip to toe. And (Japanese-for-the-word-"Life") is another classic as well.
It's okay, Todd; you don't need to hide your Matthew Sweet discs the same way you have to hide your almost-complete Bananarama discography, including the rare first singles on London Records.
I too loved Girlfriend the minute I heard the single and saw it's weird japanamation video. My favorite cut on the album is still probably "Holy War" (I've spent twenty years learning to live / In a world that takes back all that it gives), but the whole album was full of good stuff, front to back.
Incidentally, what kind of reaction would I elicit if you heard Al Stewart come up on my iTunes? I broke down and downloaded Year of the Cat the other day after I heard the title cut on the radio and at first thought it was Belle and Sebastian. I only remembered Al from playing "Time Passages" at KB and was shocked that it was the same guy. Does this make me less of a person?
Does this make me less of a person? Fuck no! I had "Year Of The Cat" as a single when I was a kid. I think it was produced by Alan Parsons. Having an Alan Parsons Project album on the other hand, would make you less of a person.
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