Brushing The Fur The Wrong Way

David — Wed, 11 Jun 2008 06:59:39 GMT

Time for another probing interview!
Matthew van der Want is a singer/song-writer from a few years back who has recently re-emerged into the lime light. He has also just released a collection of his greatest hits complete with some new songs. I tracked him down to a coffee shop in Parkhurst and we drank champagne and he agreed to do this interview. Silly man. But in the end, that’s up to you as always!

1) In 1994 you were busking at flea markets around JHB playing Leonard Cohen and Koos Kombuis covers. By mid 1995, you had your debut album out. What happened?

Wow. I also played covers by Neil Young and Juluka. Busking is a very hardcore introduction to the world of performance. I actually really used to enjoy it. I busked a few times with a guy I studied Zulu with (hence the Juluka covers). I also busked a bit with a pennywhistler – an old grey-bearded man who I think still plays at Bruma.

Anyway, I had been writing songs since I was about 19 or so. I started busking when I was about 22. I vaguely remember a friend of mine at the time whom I was studying with suggesting that I do something with my own material. I recorded about 8 of my songs on a ghetto blaster and gave them to Danny de Wet, who was then hiring bands at a little club in Braamfontein called Wings Beat Bar. Danny was keen to have me play at his club and I ended up doing a residency there every Tuesday night (R80, a pizza and 2 beers). The first time I played there, my name was up in chalk on the board as "Mark van der Walt". Better than some band called "Who Cares" who played there and got billed (inadvertently, I assume), as "So What". I did quite a few shows at the old Buskers Folk Club, which were quite fun.

I also played the occasional Odyssey Theatre gig, also at Wings. Those gigs were great. The scene is missing that kind of show, which consisted of about 20 acts (each earning about R20 each) a night doing a 10 minute stretch. I remember that if you were billed to go on at 8pm, you could count on going on at 2am. ie the gigs were very well organised. I actually remember the guy who organised them, Martin (from a band called Abstract Evil Barbie) vomiting on the pavement he was so stressed out by having 20 avante gard artistes and performance poets to deal with. To be honest, I can't actually remember how I ended up getting to record a demo recording with lloyd ross of Shifty Music – that was in about 1994, I think. Dave Marks from a company called 3rd ear music had approached me at some stage. Somebody gave me Lloyd's number and I phoned him and he said "come over". I arrived at his studio, Shifty Studios, which were, at that stage, based in Bertrams in an old house, inhabited by lloyd and a couple of alsations. I recorded a demo of what was about 15 songs at that stage, and things took off from there. It was a very exciting time, actually, now that I look back at it. I initially had no idea that this was the lloyd who recorded favourite SA bands of mine like James Phillips, Kerkorrel, Kombuis, Jennifer Ferguson etc. Warrick Sony of Kalahari Surfers was also involved in the studio at the time. I got to record with Jennifer, who sang on two of the songs on what turned out to be my debut album. I think Lloyd tried to take some pretty freaked-out songs and make them as radio-friendly as he could and it actually worked, I think. A song like "turn on you" actually still sounds pretty fresh, to my jaded ears, anyway.

2) Over the years you’ve developed a reputation as quite a prickly performing who is not shy to shout at audience members and tell them to shut up. How is it you do this when so many other performers just won’t?

It soon became very clear to me that I was doing something pretty different to your average rock band. The solo dude with a guitar thing is not that big in SA, and probably never will be. Also, the material I write kind of demands to be listened to. In the early days, I used to be very fiery with audience members who talked while I played. I figured that if you came to a music venue and some guy is performing his songs, the least you can do is leave if you don't like it, otherwise shut up and listen. I actually wrote a song about the idea in move, off low riding – "you know I've got this problem / I believe everything I say / while you fiddle with your labels / and talk about your day / I can't move / you don't care/". I also know that some people get irritated when they're trying to listen and some schmuck is bawling in the background.

3) Listening to your early work, you were clearly not a happy camper, and spent some time in friendly places with nurses and pills. Do you think it’s true that there is better art in unhappiness, mental disturbance or just plain old-fashioned depression?

Yes, "ladies and gentlemen, I have suffered in my time. Now it's your turn!"…I'm afraid that I do. I know that it is corny, and I also know that there is nothing worse than genuine self-indulgence in music and song-writing. But I do believe that something of real beauty lies in a person honestly grappling with what gets them down. About someone writing from a vulnerable place. There is a balance that needs to be struck, though, in that the poor suckers who have to listen to what you do must get something out of it. That's the best – when someone else really relates to – "gets" – something that initially was intensely personal.

I did have a hard time after I finished school, principally involving a relationship in which I was out of my depth. I also found my introduction to the world of music very stressful – radio interviews and photo shoots etc. It really is a silly mad little world and you have to have your head screwed on properly to negotiate it.

4) You’re still with us, so obviously the emotional extremes of your early work are behind you. How did you come out the other side?

I think having children had a lot to do with it. It is a very conservative thing to do, really, but in a good way. Makes you remove your head from your anus and appreciate that henceforth, it is not just about you. I also started looking after myself a bit better than I was, and I slowly came to terms with the silliness and often stupidity of the music business, to a point where I became comfortable with who I was in that world, and my place in it.

5) Another thing you are well-known for is having a go at other artists in your lyrics. Apart from the immense satisfaction you might feel from this kind of sharp shooting, why did you decide to actually go out with material of that nature?

I always struggled with the way that the SA pop scene takes itself so seriously. I always made sure to slag myself off even more than the other bands I slagged off. There is nothing worse than having such a high opinion of yourself coupled with a sense that what you're doing is "oh so important". Arrogance is bad enough on its own, but it is much worse when the arrogance is unwarranted, which, in so many cases, it really is. The self-importance of the music business has always really annoyed me. The only recorded work I did which involved taking pot shots at the high flyers in the business at the time ((Bad) Karma, Springbok rude pigs, A(c)rapaho etc) was EP Tombi, which, I think, was a bit of a statement recording. It was released at a time when there was an anticipatory buzz of what Chris Letcher and I would get up to on our first collaboration.

6) Despite the fact that live you are far from a dynamic performer, your shows have got a reputation for intensity and focus. Are you naturally very shy? How do you go about stepping up on stage and baring your soul as you do?

I am not shy at all. I think I may also be a bit weird. What is a dynamic performer? I remember Arno Carstens coming up to me backstage at a James Phillips benefit concert, where I had given it serious horns on stage, and he said to me: "Ja, cool. If you just lost a bit of weight, you'd be a rock star".

I've always thought that what I say in my songs was important and I've always believed what I said in my songs, so for me, performing them was never really an issue.

7) These days you are a lawyer by day and an occasional muso by night. What made you decide to go into something so formal and structured considering your clearly more avante garde leanings?

It is not a very common combination – music and law. It is a strange thing, I am aware of that. I think I got bored with the music scene in around 2000 – after I have been doing only music for about 6 years. It felt like I had reached some sort of (very low) ceiling – with several songs on the radio and a few albums under my belt, it seemed plain that my audience was never going to get much bigger than what it was. I was attracted by what attracts a lot of people to law; its gravitas and the idea that you can fight a good fight cleanly and win. It also appeals to my so-called intellect. I don't think my music was ever really avante garde. I like to think that it fell into that category because of its unusualness.

8) You’ve been doing this a bloody long time. What motivates you nowadays to haul out the guitar and write new songs, or to step on stage? Clearly not what used to.

Generally speaking, and I am aware of how pretentious this sounds, but songs are something that "happen" to me, rather than something I "do". Occasionally, I decide to write a song about a particular subject and I do. Those are generally not the best ones though. Sometimes I get a feeling that I need to write a song, and then I will pick up the guitar and out it will pop. I have always find it a pretty gruelling process though. I tend to go on missions where I don't sleep properly or look after myself properly when I write. I've never got that kind of "Sting" approach to music – you know – tai chi in the mornings, some karma sutra bonking in the afternoon, and 4 healthy hours in the recording studio.

9) You have along term collaborative relationship with Chris Letcher. How did that come about and what does it fuel in you as an artist that your solo work doesn’t?

I met Chris when I was recording my first album. I thought then, and I still think, that he is pretty much the best musician I've encountered, as far as his approach to the actuall music goes. He was always leaps and bounds ahead of me musically. But I think we both learned from each other when it came to song-writing, which is not really all about music. I miss playing with Chris, because we got to a point where we really did understand each other and didn't have to rehearse. Or if we did, it involved a lot of whiskey.

10) If you look at the local musical landscape NOW, what pleases you and what distresses you? Why?
I am so out of the scene at the moment that I am not really qualified to answer this question.

11) With a newly released “Greatest Hits” record out and some new material as well, seems you are playing slightly more frequently again. You’re obviously not trying to be a pop star anymore so what are you doing?

I don't really think I was ever trying to be a popstar. It's always been nothing more than a (possibly misguided) desire to show people my songs. There's that James Philips answer to this question too: "it always just seems like a good idea at the time…" which I think is really true. And with any luck, when you look back over the years, you've left something behind you that you are not too ashamed of and, sometimes, actually pretty proud of.

12) Your interior life has been a rich source of material for you, and yet popular music has probably never been as vacuous as it is now. Who do you think is responsible for that/ The artists? The Public? The business?

I'm not sure I agree with the premise of this question, Dave. Is popular music more vacuous these days than it has been in the past? I think I believe that, since time immemorial, there has been a small percentage of people doing amazing music and an overwhelmingly large percentage of people doing cr@p. I'm sure the same still applies. If it has got worse, it is because technology has probably permitted more people who really shouldn't be making music to make it.

13) You die, you get told you can have your same life over again, but make key changes. What would you do?

I would try to have a happier childhood, although I'm not sure that is under a child's control, really. I'd have studied music beyond school, although, from everything I've heard, that would have turned me into an even bigger cynic than I am. I might also have moved to another country at some stage – although there are some very good reasons to be glad I did stay here, now that I think about it. Oh, and I would not start smoking. Finally, there's one I can be unequivocal about…

You can order the Best and Worst of Matthew Van Der Want by emailing Matthew here: mvdwant@hotmail.com

The Chiz : matthew van der want

Brushing The Fur The Wrong Way