Review summary: Having achieved a great deal of success with their debut album Yourself or Someone Like You, Matchbox Twenty refined their talents and put out an exceptional sophomore record.
Often times, music in the mainstream is washed out and dull. It’s made to cater to the masses with a simple formula so regurgitated that a child who has listened to the radio for more than 10 minutes could give you a lesson in song structure. When Matchbox Twenty showed up, they made music catchy and accessible enough for the mainstream, but it was deep enough to be real. They wrote songs that anyone could relate to and enjoy. Despite their seemingly simple radio-rock exterior, with releases like Mad Season, Matchbox Twenty has proven to be more than that.
David Crosby once said, “When a singer-songwriter shows up, the first record – the first batch that they play – that's 10 years worth of work. The second record is when you find out how good they are.” It’s true, and it can be applied almost universally. The material that Matchbox Twenty had written in the 4 year downtime following YOSLY, offers a more distinct style. They were able to take advantage of what made them so unique, and hone that into something that feels comparable to a sonic painting. You can’t help but be taken on a small journey for the few minutes that each song lasts, and that’s what makes this album so remarkable.
The record starts off strong with a couple of uptempo rock tracks, complete with a trumpet ensemble. Finding their way into the mid-ground, the horns are articulated and sharp, punctuating melody as needed. They give the songs the edge they need to really stand out and offer a unique element, earning their significance within the mix. The brass and string orchestration ascribe a true anthemic quality to each refrain they attend. The title track is a prime example of the depth and dynamic that make this record so special. As the album goes on, it stays consistent with a great balance between the kind of rock songs one might expect from Matchbox Twenty, and the dark, cathartic pieces that make it so real; so visceral. The droning, one note guitar leads under Rob Thomas’ wavering voice in “Rest Stop” paint something so vivid, it puts you in the passenger seat of her car the night when she decided she didn't want you anymore. The texture it creates bringing you to that moment you opened the door and planted your feet on the sodden concrete; nostrils overwhelmed with the smell of petrichor; the wet gravel scraping under your shoes. It’s songs like this, and “Leave” that make it more than just an auditory experience. You can see the wisps of smoke dancing off the end of a cigarette sitting between the fingers of a lone man in a bar in “You Won’t be Mine”; almost cinematic. What Rob Thomas lacks in lyrical complexity, he makes up for in sincerity and delivery. The words are so simple, but so genuine that they could put that nauseating tickle in the pit of your stomach.
“I’m not sayin' there wasn't nothin' wrong, I just didn't think you’d ever get tired of me.”
Overall, this album is a great listen. From start to finish, from rock song to ballad, Mad Season is loaded with atmosphere and personality. Every time this record is played, I notice a nuance that I hadn't before; a new guitar lick; a new harmony. Each track is so full, but every instrument has room to breathe. Every ambient melody and subtle lick is placed to create space for the artists to flourish in their own right, and they do it with exceptional rapport. Put aside any preconceived notions you might have about Matchbox Twenty and give Mad Season a listen, because it is an admirable piece of music worth the time of any listener.