By Christina R.
The saddest thing about "local" music is that sometimes you have to be in the right place at the right time to be lucky enough to hear it (if it's even worth hearing). The greatest thing about it is that if you are, then you can gloat to your friends about the awesome new band you just discovered.
That's what happened to me when I found Bain Mattox. A friend and I were originally supposed to see another band, but being the day after Christmas 2003, there was a lot of traffic, so the main event never showed. Luckily for us, the opener was good enough to keep us there (but that's another story), enabling us to listen to the middle act, the aforementioned band. We had never heard of this band, but they were incredible. We were hooked after one song. I have since been preaching the word of Bain.
Folks across the Southeast have also discovered Bain Mattox, called "hands down, the most talented unsigned artist in the country" by Alternative Addiction, and his band's first album, the self-titled
Bain Mattox, released September 2003, for themselves.
Probably the most striking thing about the band is the lead singer and band namesake's talent for a wide array of instrumentation. Mattox delivers sounds in this self-titled album most people wouldn't really expect in your run-of-the-mill rock band. We're talking banjo (not just for the backwoods as some may have you believe), mandolin, and accordion. That's right. I said "accordion" (and a mean accordion at that!). Oh, and did I mention a saw? Yeah, one of the other guys plays a saw, too. Interesting instrumentation isn't exactly a novel idea, but on this album, it feels new (I mean, really, who do you know who can play a saw?).
The album begins with a dreamlike guitar melody, making way for Mattox's plinking mandolin. The rocking bass and booming drums make you want to sing along. Luckily for you, the four and a half minute-long song is composed of only about 10 separate lines repeated throughout (a contrast to the remaining 11 tracks which are slightly more complicated, both lyrically and musically).
Track two, "Thorn," follows the acoustic sound of the first, but treats the listener to a more waltz-y beat. Foot tapping ensues. "Tell me what's the thorn in my side?" Mattox asks as he croons about an annoying friend. But, then the album suddenly leads you into the underground world of the homeless in the electric guitar driven third track, "Jet Black Ash."
Each song surprises you, and though you know they're all the same artist, they each have a fresh new feel. Wind Mattox up like a toy soldier, and let him sing about fighting for the "Republic of You" in track six. It's what he intends to do, he says in this drum heavy love song. And don't forget to listen for the musical saw!
But don't think that the musical diversity is done because three tracks later comes the haunting banjo in "Peripheral People" about, fittingly, seeing ghosts. The album leaves off with the lonely sound of an accordion, which assists Mattox in telling the tale of unexpected pregnancies and the feelings of helplessness and confusion. "And pure skin on skin / can result in kin," Mattox proclaims, finally adding, "I'm not ready / I'm not ready to be anything."
The album finally concludes after 41.4 minutes of spinning original and poignant songs. If the honesty and emotion don't kill you, hit the play button again to relive the whole thing. You can't just listen to it once. I had never heard anything like it before, and I have not really heard anything like it since.
Bain Mattox is, in my mind, the most promising artist of the decade. The only thing better than the album? The energetic live shows!
