Finding Comfort During a Lover's Quarrel (My First Review as an Advisor)
Written: May 01 '01 (Updated Jun 28 '03)
Product Rating:
Pros: Well-written, well-orchestrated songs that revolve around a central theme.
Cons: That "central theme" is a depressing one; album seems a little subdued at times.
The Bottom Line: Rob Thomas and company have delivered a delicately personal collection of pop/rock songs about the hard times relationships fall into... it's sure to comfort overly analytical types like myself.
divad23's Full Review: Mad Season by Matchbox Twenty
Author’s Note:
It’s been a good week for this reviewer, and it’s been a bad one. We’ll start with the bad.
My girlfriend and I got into a pretty bad fight the other day. (Now everyone together… Awww.) Normally, the personal details of my love life should have no bearing on the reviews I write. However, in light of recent events, it seemed appropriate to write about an album that has touched me during the fallout. So don’t worry; this review isn’t a poorly-disguised attempt to tell a sob story and get pity. That’d be an atrocious abuse of power.
Which brings me to the good news: Epinions selected me to be a music advisor this week. Which of course places enormous perceived pressure on my first review under this new title. Okay, personal details over with. On to the music.
Matchbox 20’s rise to stardom after the release of their debut album Yourself or Someone Like You was no big surprise. Their lite-alternative, slightly rootsy blend of radio-ready rock-and-roll was a shoe-in for numerous chart-topping successes. The surprise was that Matchbox took so darn long to catch my attention. I first heard about them way back in 1996 when they opened for Jars of Clay. I got to the show late, and missed them. I seem to remember from those who were there that it didn’t go over well. But we expect such results from a well-known Christian band taking a then-unknown “secular” band on tour with them. Only a few years later, and naturally, Matchbox is way bigger than Jars of Clay. It didn’t take long for Matchbox to find the right audience, and before long, "3 AM", "Real World", and "Push" were dominating the radio. Still, though they were catchy tunes, nothing jumped out at me screaming, This is a great band! I just figured I was hearing the best they had to offer, and their non-radio-singles wouldn’t hold up. To be honest, I still couldn’t tell you if that’s true on their first album. But their follow-up effort, Mad Season, piqued my interest when I heard that the entire thing was based around the end of a relationship. Once again, thanks to good old Napster, my interests were satisfied. After only a few listens to the album, I found a sad but comforting collection of songs that worked together to form a surprisingly satisfying whole.
Let me make one thing clear. Mad Season is not a rock opera. It doesn’t even tell a story from start to finish, that I can see. It’s more like the musings of a dejected lover sitting in his room, analyzing what went wrong, jumping around through his memories, and trying to piece it all together. Musically, the whole thing flows almost perfectly from start to finish. Lyrically, the songs go through the different stages of emotion, and the actions taken during those stages, and I think that many who have been through a bad breakup or even a difficult fight with a lover will appreciate the level of thought with which lead singer Rob Thomas approaches the subject. Almost every song has at least one line that will make you sit up and go: That’s exactly what it feels like!
Angry You still want love – love’s ugly, smooth and delicate…
A comfortable acoustic strum starts the album off as Rob begins to recount the end of the relationship. It seems that the girl he broke up with is scared of something – running from reality, perhaps. Though he is quick to point out her misgivings about commitment, he wryly states that he’s not angry with her. However, you begin to wonder midway through the song if he really is angry, especially when he sings, “You see through me, don’t you?” The song is fairly predictable – rocking but not too hard, fitting in quite comfortably with what I’ve heard of the band’s debut. The drums and electric guitars kick in at just the right time, and a capable guitar solo and some slight distortion of the music and vocals near the end help pull the song out of total predictability, as does the bozouki that mulls over the chords as the song fades out.
Black and White People And it's one last round of petty conversation - You hold on boy 'cause you won't go down like this…
This song takes on a smoother, poppier persona, complete with some soulful horns that add an odd Motown feel to a song about superficiality. Much like “The Space Between” by the Dave Matthews Band, this song deals with the endless string of offenses that occur between a couple, though this song is a bit less optimistic. It seems that Rob is frustrated with talking on and on and getting nowhere, but part of that seems to be because she won’t really tell him what’s going on.
Crutch I think there's still a piece of my heart on your face. It's a shame to let it waste. How does it taste?
Definitely one of the angrier songs on the album, this is also the most rocking tune, musically. It starts with a nice little guitar riff that echoes from one speaker to the other, and then jumps in full force with an ultimatum of a chorus: “I don’t want to be the crutch/One step away from down.” The verses take on more of a syncopated beat, the drum patterns and Rob’s speedy vocal delivery recalling a lot of what you hear in modern R&B, if you can believe that. (Think "The Thong Song" translated into alternative rock and you’ll get the idea.) Rob is basically telling his estranged lover that she used him, and that he can’t just be a band-aid for a needy person who’s always hurting herself. Rob’s vocals get more intense as the song builds – it’s one of his most compelling performances so far, rivaling the mega-hit “Smooth” that pretty much put Santana back on the map last year. In fact, near the end of the song, you can sing “Let’s just forget about it!” over and over and pretend it’s “Smooth” all over again. Sometimes, a lot of Matchbox’s stuff can sound similar at first. But with two really good songs, it’s not too big of a deal. My only complaint is the use of the expletive “g**d***” in the first verse, but it’s really more surprised than angry.
Last Beautiful Girl Maybe if we ever coulda kept it all together, where would we be? A thousand lost forevers and the promises you never were giving me.
Hey, I was expecting the album to progress through the alphabet, and this song’s title to start with D. Oh, well. It may start out at an unimpressive and almost awkward pace as Rob sings, “This will all fall down”, but as the song builds steam, it reveals itself as one of the more powerful tracks on the album, smartly weaving back and forth between slow and fast. The premise here is an age-old sentiment that jilted lovers feel at some point or another: “The one that you wrecked won’t take you back if you were the last beautiful girl in the world.” The sprightly piano and background vocals make the song sound like more of a taunt than an angry outburst. The bitterness apparent here may seem harsh, but there’s more going on underneath the surface, as Rob tries to remind himself he’ll get over it.
If You’re Gone I bet you're hard to get over. I bet the room just won't shine. I bet my hands I can stay here. I bet you need more than you mind.
Here it is, Matchbox’s latest hit, omnipresent on everything from alternative rock stations to Top 40 stations to mellow pop stations. Some may accuse the band of selling out due to this predictable but delicious ballad, but I think most of us were too easily hooked by the first few seconds of the song to care. It begins with a beautiful guitar line, backed by some brass (remember, it worked well in “Black and White People”), and builds from there into a wonderfully fragile tune dealing with fear. It’s one of the most beautiful confessions of fear I’ve heard since Jars of Clay’s Much Afraid album three and a half years ago, as Rob realizes that he doesn’t know how he’ll take such a difficult transition from commitment to singleness. I know what those moments of fear are like in a relationship, where you realize you’ve hurt the person, and for all you know, they could call you up any minute and say it’s over. Driving down the road a few days ago, the conflict still fresh in my mind, I nearly lost it when I heard the opening lines: “I think I’ve already lost you/I think you’re already gone.” But the song ends with a calm beckoning for the lover to give him another chance, reminding her they’ve come too far to split up now: “There’s a little bit of something in me in everything in you.” It’s a small glimmer of hope in an otherwise heartbreaking story.
Mad Season I feel ugly, but I know I still turn you on…
This is almost a complete reversal from the last song. It takes on a bluesier feel and a medium tempo, but the guitars and vocals really kick butt once the band gets into it. Apparently this one’s been a hit single, though I’ve yet to hear it on the radio. “If You’re Gone” was a last-ditch effort to get the girl back, and suddenly, she’s come back around, and surprisingly, Rob wants no part of it. As many times as Rob mutters, “I feel stupid” (the way he enunciates it makes me want to spell it “stoopid”), you know that he’s not exactly condoning his own fickle tendencies. It may seem absurd, but it’s so true. People who are dissatisfied in a relationship often don’t know what they really want, and sometimes that old flame comes back around, and you do exactly what you know you shouldn’t do.
Rest Stop Hell, if it’s over, I had better end it quick or I could lose all my nerve.
Here we get to hear the story of the actual breakup in painful detail. This slow, sad tune describes a road trip that Rob was on with his girlfriend when, while he is napping, she very suddenly pulls over, informs him it’s over, and tells him to get out and walk. HARSH. Who knows if it’s how it really happened, but in any case, it must have hurt like hell if this was a true story. The reason she gives for sending him packing is this: “While you were sleeping/I was listening to the radio and wondering what you’re dreaming/When it came to mind that I didn’t care.” A tear-jerker if I’ve ever heard one, and yet Rob sounds once again more surprised than anything else. The opening guitar chords and slow, dull beat seem monotonous at first, but once again, Matchbox 20’s strength lies in their ability to build a song from the ground up.
The Burn Thought about singin' but I couldn't remember all of the words, breakin' but I couldn't get the pieces apart, laughin' never knowing what the joke was about.
Not quite a ballad, but not exactly an upbeat tune either, this one comfortably shuffles along with some nice “ooh”s in the background and a simple piano bridge that leads into a surprisingly catchy (if enigmatic) chorus. I’m not exactly sure what “The Burn” is, but it’s some sort of a feeling that Rob seems to be lacking. It’s like he’s numb after the breakup, and he can’t quite fathom how to live life alone again, how to become something he’s happy with. Underneath it all, he isn’t saying that there is no hope for him – it’s just that he can’t see it at the moment. The song may drone on a little long, but I still enjoy it. I like the few seconds of studio chatter at the end, where Rob asks the band to please try and all play the same song at once, which transitions sharply into…
Bent If I couldn't sleep, could you sleep, could you paint me better off…
If you haven’t heard this feisty little number by now, you probably don’t own a radio. I think it was rather wise of Matchbox to bury the album’s lead single so far back into the mix, because it breaks up a steady stream of slower material with its aggressive but bouncy guitar and drum attack. Rob is basically realizing that he’s “bent” out of shape and really needing some comfort as he sings this song, and of course, comfort comes in the arms of his ex. He’s pleaded for her to come back (“If You’re Gone”), and she’s come back for him (“Mad Season”), and somehow, this time their desire to see each other again has coincided, but is it healthy? He knows he’s pretty messed up, and he probably won’t treat her right. Is it just two hurting people comforting each other? Using each other? Is it just harmless sex? No one ever knows until it’s over and they regret it. Not something I’ve been through, but I can imagine it’s rather confusing. My only complaint about this song is that, for its killer opening, the chorus seems a little too subdued for the energy of the rest of the song.
Bed of Lies Don't think that I can take another empty moment, don't think that I can fake another hollow smile…
This is definitely one of the most subdued tracks on the album, beginning with a capella vocals and soft keyboards, and slowly building off of a slow, slightly ethnic-sounding percussion pattern. It’s like Rob has snapped out of his frenzy, and realized that he can’t fool himself into thinking this girl’s any good for him. He refuses to lie to her, to pretend to be happy, to use her, and he bravely tells her that he needs to leave. The use of strings, as in “Rest Stop”, helps to transform the song into a full-bodied anthem denouncing deceit, but I’m guessing a lot of fans will hear the mellow intro and hit “skip” in search of another upbeat tune.
Leave I’m not saying there wasn’t nothing wrong – I just didn’t think you’d ever get tired of me.
Likely one of the more overlooked tracks on the album, starting off with mellow strings and an even quieter beat than “Rest Stop”, this one could tempt you to run for coffee, but listen carefully. This song is a lyrical gem, perfectly describing the power that one hurt lover has over another. Rob acknowledges that he has hurt her and “put us both through hell”, but he’s not just going to let her walk out the door without one last warning. He laments the ways that she has been cold and unfeeling towards him, and it seems she’s been pretty hard on him for even the smallest mistakes (I’m sure many men can identify with the line, “It’s unnerving how just one move puts me by myself.”) At the same times, he realizes he has taken her for granted, and now he’s a bit surprised that she wants to leave him, but he’s sure she’ll regret it. It’s a myriad of emotions – hurt and blame and apology and regret all rolled into one package.
Stop All the times I’ve given in, you fit me like a second skin. One by one I will begin to wear you on the days I’m feeling thin.
This angular, acoustic-electric romp is a bright standout in the otherwise somber list of songs that close out this album. This marks one last burst of anger for Rob – one last chance to stand up for himself and no longer remain a pushover. He knows that in moments of weakness, he’s willing to take her back and let her use him, but now he’s fed up with that, and this song is his ultimatum (You better stop/’Cause I’ve had enough/And I’m ready to forget the reasons keeping me here”). It’s not entirely clear from the lyrics, but the chorus (“You gotta give it up to get off sometimes”) hints that she’s probably using him for sex as well. I think they’ve done a good job of evading directly sexual references in order to make the album enjoyable for a larger audience. My favorite element of the song is the additional percussion provided by what sounds like feet stomping on a wooden floor – it reminds me of a Spanish folk dance or something like that. Definitely a standout track.
You Won’t Be Mine Try to find if it was worth what you spent, why you're guilty for the way you're feeling now…
This slow, jazzy, piano-led number is an epic way to close out a solid album. Here we find our hero spent and weary, but standing on his resolution, knowing that she will get over him and she’ll find someone who is a much better match. Though he gets in his last assertions that she was fake and rather unkind to him, he seems confident that she will be a good match for someone, and the whole thing’s out of his hands. Once again, there’s a glimmer of hope amidst a sad sentiment. It seems like an entire symphony joins in midway through the song, giving it the feel of a movie soundtrack. Despite what Hollywood may tell you, the hero doesn’t always have to have swept a lover off her feet by the end of the story. Rob will just have to go it alone from here on out, and he seems confident that he’ll make it through. After the final notes from the piano have faded out, there is a short period of silence and then the “hidden track”, which is really just the orchestral part of the same song. This only furthers my feeling that the band was going for an epic, movie soundtrack feel on this one. And you have to admire a band humble enough to completely remove themselves from one of their songs and let it stand alone as a lovely piece of music.
I suppose I should warn you – if you want your answers quick and easy, you want to feel happy and energized at the end of an album, and you’re not the overly analytical type like me, this CD will drive you nuts. But if you’re been through some of these things, you’ll find solace in Rob Thomas’s perils. It may not leave you with a warm, fuzzy feeling, but it won’t leave you cold either. It’ll simply leave you with the feeling that you’re not the only one, and perhaps just a tiny dose of encouragement that one day you’ll be strong, you’ll be rich in love, and you will carry on. But no, oh no, you won’t be mine.
TRACK REVIEW SUMMARY Excellent: If You're Gone, Mad Season, Last Beautiful Girl, Bent, Leave, Stop
Good: Angry, Black and White People, Crutch, Rest Stop, You Won't Be Mine
Decent: The Burn, Bed of Lies
Weak: NONE
Skippable: NONE
Band Members:
Rob Thomas: Lead vocals
Brian Yale: Bass
Paul Doucette: Drums
Adam Gaynor: Rhythm Guitar, vocals
Kyle Cook: Lead guitar
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