Rocker Rob Thomas can’t remember the 1990s: ‘It did a lot of bad things to some good people’
Matchbox Twenty frontman Rob Thomas on the nineties: ‘I was jealous of Limp Bizkit? How the %^*# did that happen?’ He also now plays a classic.
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THERE’S a period in Rob Thomas’s life he doesn’t remember very well. It’s called the 1990s.
“I ran into some girl that I couldn’t remember for the life of me and apparently somewhere in the ’90s she lived on my (tour) bus for a week and a half. I didn’t remember her at all,” says the Matchbox Twenty frontman with a guilty chuckle. “But that’s what the ’90s did. It did a lot of bad things to some good people.”
Of course, the ’90s also did a some good things to good people: It was in 1996 that Matchbox Twenty launched their career with Yourself or Something Like You.
The album sold 12 million copies in the US, went 10 times platinum in Australia and saw Thomas and Co. start a long-term love affair with our country. Thomas’s solo albums — including his latest The Great Unknown — have all debuted Top 5 here and he’s run out of fingers on which to count his Aussie tours, whether solo or with the band.
ROB THOMAS WANTS TO SHARE HIS STORY
THE GREAT UNKNOWN IS ABOUT MY WIFE — THOMAS
He’ll add another one when he lands to tour The Great Unknown around arenas and wineries this month. (He’ll arrive shortly after he turns 44.)
“If I’m here long enough,” says Thomas, “a ‘G’day’ will slip out. Not with the accent — it’s not some weird affectation I put on. You just wind up slipping into it.”
So the ’90s weren’t all bad. Although, now Thomas thinks of it ...
“The worst part about looking back on the ’90s was the clothes. I see pictures from our first tour book and I totally understand why some people wouldn’t like us. I’m like, ‘Ohhh f!@k, I get it now!’ We look like gay pirates.”
The clothes may have been bad, but unlike a lot of the other FM-friendly rockers around in those days — remember Vertical Horizon? Fuel? Tonic? — Thomas and Matchbox Twenty have survived.
The singer, who grew up in Florida and now lives in New York with his wife Marisol, can’t put a finger on why.
“At the time, our only story was that we had no story. We were the faceless band that went and sold all these records but nobody could pick us out on the street. I remember we were so jealous of all these other ‘cool’ bands who were on every magazine cover. I pinch myself: I was jealous of Limp Bizkit? What the f!@k is that? How did that happen?
“My buddy at our publishing company said: Just shut up and play. Just keep playing and if you’re still around in 20 years, that’s its own kind of cool.”
Thomas says he’s never had a gimmick, spoken to “disenfranchised youth” or been political. But, he says, “because I’m a pretty normal person, other normal people can relate to what it is I’m writing about”.
On The Great Unknown, his relatable songs include album-closer Pieces, a stark piano ballad about searching for light in the dark, and the irresistible Hold On Forever — quite possibly the sweetest thing Thomas has ever written.
“It’s adorable,” he agrees. “There’s no wink, there’s no irony in it, it’s just this unapologetically happy song. And I don’t have a lot of those.”
He’s promising to play four or five Great Unknown tunes on this tour, along with a couple of Matchbox Twenty numbers and the solo hits fans demand (think Lonely No More, This is How a Heart Breaks, Her Diamonds).
He’s even rediscovered his love for his 1999 smash with Santana, Smooth.
“I went through a period — like the rest of the world — of never wanting to hear it again but after 15 years it comes back around. I mean, I’ve heard some of the worst versions of Smooth ever — every wedding, every bar, somebody’s gonna play Smooth. And it’s always really horrible. Even the best ones are just really kinda shitty,” he laughs.
“But we finally got it right after all these years. Now we just go full bore, rock it out like the record and it’s a lot of fun. I’m enjoying it again.”
And though Thomas is well accustomed to the Aussie lifestyle (“The first thing I took home from Australia was a f@#king month-long hangover,” he quips), he’ll be making sure to stick only to our cities and wineries.
Thomas tried surfing as a youngster in Florida when all his mates were doing it — “I was really horrible” — and a recent chat with mates of the Navy SEAL variety made him realise he wouldn’t survive a day in the Outback, let alone during a zombie apocalypse.
“We were talking about The Walking Dead,” he explains. “Episode one, first five minutes, I would be in the foetal position crying and someone would come along and kill me. I have no survival skills. If the world gets to that point, I just don’t want to be in it!”
THE GREAT UNKNOWN (WARNER) OUT NOW
ROB THOMAS PLAYS — VICTORIA: ROD LAVER ARENA, FEBRUARY 20, $101.85 TO $152.82, TICKETEK; A DAY ON THE GREEN, ROCHFORD WINES, MARCH 4, $105.90 TO $499.90, TICKETMASTER
ACT: ROYAL THEATRE, FEBRUARY 22, $101.85 TO $152.82, TICKETEK
NSW: SYDNEY OPERA HOUSE FORECOURT, FEBRUARY 24, $107.44 TO $158.42; STATE THEATRE, FEBRUARY 26, ON SALE FRIDAY 10AM; HOPE ESTATE, POKOLBIN, FEBRUARY 27, $111.89 TO $152.67; TICKETMASTER
QLD: SIRROMET WINES, MT COTTON, FEBRUARY 28, $105.90 TO $329.90, TICKETMASTER
WA: KINGS PARK, MARCH 2, $111.87 TO $305.57, TICKETMASTER
SA: CLIPSAL 500, MARCH 6, $111.06, TICKETMASTER
Originally published as Rocker Rob Thomas can’t remember the 1990s: ‘It did a lot of bad things to some good people’
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