"And the other one..." OR "Four"

I sat at the bar one night, listening to a singer-songwriter I know perform with his new-ish band. I was laughing goofily with a friend when I was surprised to note that my reaction to the music was being observed from the stage.

It was a rather neat realization - although I suddenly realized I should behave myself so it didn't seem as if I wasn't enjoying it.

I'm the pain in the ass listener. The more I enjoy an artist, the more I invest - whether it be time, mileage, money or interest. Generally some mixture of them all. I'm just not a light listener and I want to feel some form of connection. So I do my research and whatnot.

With that comes an increase in expectation. If I'm putting this much into the music, whoever is up on stage sure as hell ought to put in an effort. I'll give praise when it's due, but I'll criticize just as readily. I'm hard to satisfy, I know, but I just see no point in blind idolatry.

It usually works out well enough - it is extremely rare that any of those I remark upon discover these observations. I admit that I used to daydream about a Howie, John or Jason happening across descriptions of performances from an off-stage perspective, reading about what I had to say and, perhaps, thinking about it. Maybe doing something differently the next time around, or smiling at the recollection of something that struck and moved a stranger.

Because most of my favorites have fallen under this scrutiny at one point or another. Some were abandoned, others put aside for a time, while others, for whatever reason, remained constant and in regular circulation.

But then Matt Nathanson comes along and screws my whole theory up.

Four and a half, maybe five years of listening, but I realized yesterday that I have never doubted him. Each time I hear him or prepare to see him live, I start to grin and imagine what I'm going to experience. What the hell is going to come out of his mouth this time.

I attribute this lack of normal tendancies to the fact that I instinctively feel he is more grounded and centered than the others. There's less need to worry that he will A) foray into bad pop cheese with a penchant for musical masturbation, B) embrace rock star, tour bus life so much that it affects his performace, C) develop an inflated ego before his time or D) fall head over heels in love with his own cleverness.

Maybe it's that he joked that even God was against him the first time I saw him perform. Or that his songs don't make him sound like a committment-phobic, angst-riddled, self-proclaimed poet. Or that he's married. That he covers 80s rock anthems and gets everyone to sing along. Or the fact that I feel he needs someone to serve as his walking disclaimer. Who knows.

He just makes it apparent each time I see or hear him that in listening to his music, I've made a rock-solid investment. And his sound and performances have never let me down.

Matt is the one I don't want to selfishly keep to myself. I've grown guarded and wary of "big breaks" after watching several stars rise. But with Matt, I still root for him to make it big because he's deserved the break for years. He hasn't quite gotten there yet, but he keeps going, rocking out for those of us in on the secret and writing irreverent journal entries that regularly reduce me to giggles.

I don't quite understand why he's still not "there" when I want him to reach that point as much as I do; whereas many of the ones I feared would be tarnished by fame have already spent too much time gawking at the sight of their names in lights.