The first time I saw Matt Morris play, I got him wrong.
He stepped up at open mic night at Ploughman’s, and I thought, “Oh man… another damn Dave Matthews.”
You know what I mean. Aggressive playing, lots of chukka chukka muted chords, then seven different voicings of a C chord… really percussive. Then comes a garbled, growled lyric that doesn’t mean anything—followed by more chukkas.
You know the type—’90s music for white guys who played golf, wore pastel polo shirts, smoked cigars, and were very cutthroat in their corporate aspirations. The kind of people who went on to vote for Bush. Twice.
You may not agree with me—hell, you may be one of them—but you know what I’m talking about. And it makes the fluid in my eyeballs curdle to even think about it.
But—as is often the case—I was wrong.
By his second song, my eyes had liquified again as he rumbled into Jethro Tull’s “Aqualung,” which, as anyone can tell you, is ambrosia for the soul. And it wasn’t just the drastic improvement in song choice that changed my mind. It was the fact that, yeah, he could throw his guitar a beatin’—but that wasn’t all he could do with that thing with the funky inlays. He could actually play it. More than that—boy howdy—he could bring it.
I ordered another cider and settled in. (I always look forward to opportunities to say “boy howdy.”)
He only played three or four songs—it was an open mic, not a gig—but I heard him a few more times after that. I found that he had an encyclopedic set of songs under his fingers and a voice like… well, dare I say it… like Paul Rodgers from Bad Company.
Not only that, but he once duetted with the incomparable Ann of GerryOwen bartending fame, doing a Bowie tune that had her husband and me crooning from the back like a pair of idiots (which we are). It was a great night.
So when he had a full set scheduled at Ploughman’s on a laid-back Thursday, I couldn’t imagine why all of Adams County wouldn’t be there. And this time, I was right.
His performance showcased just how vast his repertoire really is. (He’s no Ben Wenk in that department—but no one is. Still, Matt’s in the ballpark.) He did about half covers, half original songs—and his originals are well-written, diverse, and consistently interesting.
Songs I’ve heard once or twice already feel familiar when he brings them back. That’s the mark of good songwriting. And aside from being a formidable guitarist and singer, he’s a great showman. You want to hear more, and you don’t even care if it’s a cover or something he wrote himself. You don’t need something recognizable, like you sometimes do with songwriters who have a smaller palette.
He’s comfortable being heckled the way pros are, and when he’s done, you’ll find yourself checking Facebook to see where he’s playing next—even if Dave Matthews makes you want to bang your head on the bar.
P.S.: If you see him, get a sticker. Matt designed it with the masterful Jim Bargas. If I ever get good enough at anything to need a logo, you can bet your polo shirt it’s going to be designed by Jim Bargas.
Go see Matt. And if you do, tell him Tom says he should play more Counting Crows.
Tom Dudra is a local music nerd and civil war bore. He writes about local music, as well as essays and fiction about the civil war era. He is often found on the battlefield with Grant, his vicious basset war hound.
Totally agree, if you have not seen Matt yet it is a very entertaining evening