Matthew Good Frosh Concert Review
Written September 2, 2003

Amidst the chaos sweeping through campus on the wings of thousands of Frosh students and their overbearing parents, rumours of the night’s big concert act circulated. Those in the know generally remained smugly tight-lipped while others cajoled and took guesses. Finger Eleven and Sum41 were the subject of popular speculation and a deluded few harboured hopes that breakout pop-reggae artist Sean Paul would make an appearance.

Word eventually leaked to the general populace, and a massive collection of fresh-faces and volunteers gathered in the Waterloo Rec Centre for opening ceremonies and the O-Week concert event. After the usual dose of hype-up speeches and automatonical cheering acts were liberally applied to susceptible minds, students rushed the stage in anticipation for the entertainment’s opening act…

…and were surprised to come face to face with relative unknowns The Miniatures. A six-piece alt-rock band operating under the standard formulas of the genre, The Miniatures made an admirable effort on stage against innumerable odds.

No longer the centre of attention, Icebreakers futilely bounced around and danced along to the music under the influence of whatever chemical compound powers their inexhaustible energy source. The frosh weren’t having it. Clearly tired and unimpressed, the vast majority leaned nonchalantly on the stage barricade or stood impassively with their arms crossed. A select few nodded their heads in time to the relatively hard-hitting tunes and general applause increased at the end of each subsequent song.

As for the band, the word that immediately comes to mind is “nondescript”. None of their ten or so songs were particularly memorable. Of particular hilarity was the tambourine/bongo/air-horn player, who rocked out harder than a twelve-year-old girl at a Simple Plan show. Although his presence was justified by sheer visual entertainment value alone, it frequently seemed as though there were too many musicians on-stage to justify the standard rock fare they pumped out. Many of their songs would have sounded virtually identical with the removal of two or even three band members.

However, The Miniatures certainly made a decent effort and I recall wincing when a student rep inadvertently insulted them with promises of a “bigger and better” act to come while they were in the background tearing down their equipment.

Finally, the “bigger and better” super-surprise act arrived in the form of a Mr. Matthew Good, who strode to the stage to the sound of a rejuvenated frosh cheering squad. Mixing songs from his latest solo album with hits from the now-defunct Matthew Good Band and winding them together with seemingly improv jam sessions, Matt put on a decidedly impressive show. Songs like Hello Time Bomb and Load Me Up, which were the radio singles from Beautiful Midnight, unsurprisingly got the largest crowd reactions early in the show.

Matt also seemed to be in an unexpectedly jovial mood, circumventing his reputation for being somewhat of an aloof ass. He took a few cracks at frosh week events and cheers, calling it “crazy shit” and “fucked up”, but considering that the man preaches the importance of breaking away from group-think, his level of offensiveness was disappointingly low. He mentioned Communism, however. I was somewhat baffled at how he was able to get the crowd to applaud his thinly-veiled insults of their O-Week, although he also managed to initiate a group clapping exercise that was somewhat reminiscent of the night’s earlier activities.

Most of the old Matthew Good Band favourites that were played got a significant overhaul, sounding quite different from their original versions and often losing their signature catchiness. I got the sense that many in attendance were expecting a parade of picture-perfect hit singles that they could sing along to, and were rudely surprised with lengthy instrumental jams and songs that they didn’t know. People started leaving the show in trickles hours before its conclusion, tired from their long moving day or perhaps looking for some casual sex. By the encore, a huge stadium show had become a small, intimate concert, the band playing for a small group of the faithful.

And that’s the way it should be. Matthew Good Band’s legacy clings to the man, and his live appeal has consequentially shifted from pounding out the hits to a dynamically flowing experience rooted in a desire for a new artistic identity. His shows as a solo act brim with musical personality, and you never get the sense that he plays the exact same set list in the same way for more than one audience.

Whether the concert lost interest because of timing (the first night of frosh week, when everyone’s exhausted and overwhelmed? What were they thinking?) or Matt’s deviation from his popular roots, those who stayed were treated to one of the better frosh week performances in recent memory. And there wasn’t even any alcohol!

Matthew Good's jabs at O-week activities were hilarious. Whoever booked him for this event was evidently not thinking too well... it was like mixing baking soda and vinegar. If I know anything about the man, he doesn't go in for enthusiasm of any kind and certainly not school spirit. Regardless, it was an entertaining night.