Matt Corby
Subscribe
X

Get the latest from Beat

Matt Corby

mattcorbyjpeghighres.jpeg

“I would like to think that I have this rough plan of being a 70-year old and not feeling like I compromised in any way,” he says. “I think that’s always been in the back of my head. I mean, we’ll all be dead soon, and that’s fine, that’s the beauty of art. It’s why art is made. For the most part it’s ’cause of this crazy fear of your own mortality and of making a mark. I mean, I can sing all right, I can convey a message, so why don’t I devote my life to being uncompromising? I would hate to have someone dictate my creativity and self-expression, and that shouldn’t be taken away from people just for the sake of people making money, or you being successful.

“I mean, what does success mean? You could have something with no substance that doesn’t help any one, and it could still make a shit ton of money. Is that successful? I don’t know. I don’t measure it that way. If this were the ’50s, would anybody even fucking give a shit about what I was doing? Back then you’ve got real musicians that fucking play everything together live on tape, that have worked their entire lives to hit that snare at the exact right increment so you get the exact right tone. Those musicians knew all that. Now, you’ve got fucking chaos pads and machines that you can trigger and you’ve got the snare hit that guy spent 40 years figuring out how to move his wrist that way to do. I don’t know.”

If Corby sounds frustrated it’s certainly not without reason, but he is by no means a bitter man. After finishing runner up on Australian Idol at age 16, followed by his break-through single Brother, the Sydney musician worked long and hard on the debut album that would finally show the world the artist he’d always wanted to be; explorative and engaging. But after being encouraged down insincere musical paths in the studio, he abandoned the project. When he returned, he was resolute about only making music he was inspired to create.

“I think I kind of knew it wasn’t working the whole time, in my gut,” he says. “You know, when you’re in the middle of something you’ve been obligated to do, which is how I felt straight off the bat. I had made a tiny bit of music, a few EPs, and then got the attention of the industry, record companies, and they sign you and say, ‘We’re going to make your album, and we’re going to do this, we’re going to do that.’ And it’s like, ‘Well, no. What the fuck are you talking about? I didn’t know this was going to be a proviso, this was a condition of me signing the contract, that I have to immediately go out and do what you say.’ I was going along with it because I felt obligated to do it. But then I realised, ‘Wait, I should be able to hold all the power here, because A) I’m using my legal name, and B) I’m writing all the music and performing it.

“So I just got to a point where I was so unhappy with the way that music sounds. It isn’t something that I would ever buy or listen to, but I’m putting all my time and all my emotions and effort into it. And for what? For them? For an audience that I would end up hating, because I’d hate myself? So I got to the end of that process, listened to the album and I was like, ‘This is fucking terrible.’ Maybe if I was 40 and I’d made that record I’d probably release it, but I was 22 and I should be doing things that I want to do, that were interesting. I don’t want to be some fucking cookie cutter, boy-band singing [artist].”

Which leads us to Telluric, an 11-track release that reflects Corby’s roots music background, but doesn’t shy away from funk and blues. It’s strange to think of his debut only now arriving, when he has been a household name for many years. While it’s easy to think we already know Matt Corby, that we have an understanding of his style and sensibilities, the portrait that has been presented to us is really half in shadow. Corby is an earnest and refreshing artist, but he is also shackled by doubts and confusion. He gives the impression of someone who hasn’t quite surmounted the struggle that comes with working out who you are and what you stand for. But by God, you know he’s not going to stop trying.

“I think I feel a little better about myself now. I think I haven’t for a long time. It sounds really weird, but I’ve been forced into this. Not into this record, but into playing music. I must have done it to myself in a weird way and then been continuously pushed by other people because they saw value in it. And I think from the last ten years, since I was 14 onwards, I’ve been scrambling to find out what the fuck I’m doing with it. Because I know you can do something good with it, and I feel like this record is the first little glimmer of hope for me being self sufficient, making the music all on my own, finding a very core group of people that I can work with and trust, be vulnerable with and respect their opinions, have that unfolding of everyone’s combined creative efforts. I feel better about myself. It’s been hard, man. I mean, everyone has a fucking hard time, but I just …”

Corby trails off. In the background the wind has begun to pick up, and from somewhere comes the muted sound of a reversing truck.

“It’s been very strange to have to grow up as a musician when, since Idol, people look at you and go, ‘Oh, he’s that guy from Idol,’ or, ‘He’s that guy who wrote that dumb song Brother.’ You know what I mean? You’re continuously redefined, and it weighs you down. And you have so much to offer and just want to do some good, but people just clutch at straws to try and put you in a box so that they seem smart, and then you have to deal with that public perception.

“To be honest, I hate doing interviews. I get so nervous and I don’t know what to say, because I don’t want to put myself in the position where I say something fucking stupid, like everyone does. I don’t want people to have a bad impression of me, because I wouldn’t want it to destroy any of the music for them, because that is all that I ever want to say. I don’t necessarily want to be politically active or big note myself, because to be honest, I have so much self loathing, like so many people. It’s just … I don’t know. This album will hopefully speak to people who are hurting. Which everyone is, in their own way, and I am too. Obviously life isn’t too bad; it’s great. But we’re all in this together, and it’s quite difficult sometimes. But if we have things to bring joy into our lives, that’s a good thing.”

BY ADAM NORRIS