Putting his faith in music
SINGER Matthew E White sits in the living room of his Richmond, Virginia home. “I hear folks are saying a lot of nice things about me in Europe,” says White, the most-buzzed-about new artist of 2013. “If that is correct, then it is truly humbling. I want to go over there and experience it first hand. Basically, I want to see if it’s real.”
White is an unlikely candidate for media hype. He is oldish (in his 30s), paunchy, and has a full-length beard more typical of a hardcore biker. If you were told he was a musician, you would guess he fronted a ZZ Top tribute group.
But the music White makes with his band, Spacebomb, is sweet and soulful. He is likened to his friend, Justin Vernon, from Bon Iver, and shares an ambition to push boundaries while keeping the listener onside.
But where Vernon errs towards the avant-garde, White’s influences are old-school soul and funk, shot through with a powerful spirituality.
“I’m not sure why people talk about me in the same breath as Bon Iver,” White says. “Don’t get me wrong — I’m a huge fan. I know Justin fairly well. In fact, he stole a member of my band. And it is fantastic to see someone who has achieved great success put it to such interesting use. He is trying to create serious music, better music. Maybe that’s why we are always compared. I’m trying to do something similar with my sound.”
Spacebomb is the name of both White’s band and his studio in Virginia. Inspired by great soul groups such as the Wrecking Crew, White sees Spacebomb as a hit factory in the making.
With himself at the helm, White’s hope is that Spacebomb will play on a variety of projects, as a backing troupe or as the lead attraction. He wants to write meaningful, memorable music, and forge a distinctive sound.
“We have musicians who will fill particular roles from project to project, and a rotating cast of other players. In total, there are about 30 people who are available and are good. I love that spirit of making music together in an organised way — of encompassing different genres. You can bring it to a different place,” he says.
Before White conquers the world with Spacebomb, there is the small matter of his own, glorious solo LP, Big Inner. It is a deep and celebratory record, endlessly catchy, yet with an undertow of sadness and seriousness. White hopes he is not po-faced when he says he is a spiritual writer. It’s a product of his upbringing.
“My parents were missionaries. I grew up in a spiritual family. That is part of my story. It’s always there in my songs. I can talk about religion, sex, race relations — stuff a lot of songwriters struggle to discuss. I feel strongly those are all part of the human condition. Rather than hiding them behind a curtain, I want to pull the veil back. All of this stuff is part of the human condition. You should write about it,” he says.
White had a strange childhood. Aged two, the family moved to the Philippines, where his parents worked as missionaries among the poor. The family returned to the US when White was six. His first experience of America was as an outsider. He carries that sense of separation with him. It has shaped him as an artist.
“I remember small things really standing out. Like, in the Philippines, where it is really, really hot, we didn’t have air-conditioning. To have AC in a house — in a car — was astonishing to me. One day, in our house in America, I left a piece of toast on a table and went out playing. I remember, I rushed back, really worried. I was afraid ants would come in and eat it. Of course, that doesn’t happen in America,” he says.
There were deeper differences, too. “You realise that you are part of a very specific place and time — and that there are other, very distinct, places and times. Just because you grow up in a certain way isn’t to say everybody else lives the same life. In America, everything is smooth — you can travel to the beach, to the suburbs. The traffic moves. It’s not like that in other countries. I’m not sure Americans always appreciate that. We are a continent with an ocean either side. It’s easy to be insular,” he says.
Many artists are wary of discussing their religion. White is upfront about being a person of ‘faith’, though you sense he doesn’t subscribe to any conventional belief set. “I am on a spiritual journey,” White says. “You are always learning, and always asking questions. It is something that is part of who I am and something I choose to think about. I don’t think I’ve reached a final destination yet. I think faith is constantly a journey, in a way.”
The capital of Virginia, Richmond, is arguably a musical backwater. However, White has resisted the call of larger cities. Thanks to the internet, you can make music wherever you wish, he says.
“The idea that music has to be made in big industry centres — say Los Angeles, New York or Nashville — is breaking down, as are a lot of old rules,” he says. “Spacebomb came about organically, in the context of the community in which I live. Plus, Richmond is only two hours from my parents and five hours from New York. Philadelphia, Washington, Baltimore — I can get to all those places in half a day. In a way, I’m lucky to be here.”
Living abroad, as a child, imbued in White a love of travel.
In particular, he can’t wait to get to Ireland. “In the Philippines, one of my oldest friends was the daughter of another family of missionaries. It turns out she married an Irish guy and moved to Dublin. Hopefully, she will come swing by my show,” he says.
*Big Inner is out now. Matthew E White plays Whelan’s, Dublin Sunday

