Reviews
What Happened?
The Lone Sharks
Nine Lives
Steve Winwood
Moneyland
Various Artists
I'm Not There (Original Soundtrack)
Various Artists
Home Before Dark
Neil Diamond
Toby Keith's 35 BIGGEST Hits
Toby Keith
It's A Shame About Ray (Collector's Edition)
The Lemonheads
About a Son
Otis Blue (Collector's Edition)
Otis Redding
Loaded
Wood Brothers
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Matchbox Twenty
Listen to Matchbox Twenty:
“I think I’ve already lost you, I think you’re already gone
I think I’m finally scared now, You think I’m weak, but I think you’re wrong”
It kills me to admit it, but this song hits so close to home that it hurts to hear it. I don’t know if I mean a “Hurts So Bad”-like-Little Anthony type of pain or a “Hurts So Good”-like-John Mellencamp type of pain, I only know that I relate to the lyrics a bit too well for my own liking. I’m sure that some people would find it inappropriate for me to unveil aspects of my personal life, but I just can’t seem to find a way around my own issues on this one. Besides, I’ve repeatedly made the point throughout this book that music must be discussed subjectively if you care to get to the heart of the matter, so I might as well face up to the reasons that this song causes me to freeze in my tracks whenever it comes on.
Lately, aspects of my life have become extremely complicated, particularly in my closest personal relationships. I can say with some certainty that I carry a good deal of responsibility for what has happened, but that doesn’t make things any easier, and the potential consequences are life altering. I don’t want to embarrass anyone, so I’ll spare you the gory details, but suffice to say that my life makes As The World Turns look like an episode of The Smurfs in comparison. Of course, I want things to be rectified, but I’m finding that it isn’t such an easy thing to do.
“I think you’re so mean – I think we should try
I think I could need - this in my life”
I once considered Rob Thomas and Matchbox 20 (they changed from ‘20’ to ‘Twenty’ for their second album) to be competent hacks playing a reasonable facsimile of rock and roll. That sounds like more of an insult than I intend it to be; it’s just that like so many other rock bands of the nineties, their first album struck me as emotionally unconvincing and full of cliches. A song like “3 A.M” just didn’t strike my heart. Is that because the song wasn’t as good, or was it only because I could not relate to the lyrics? I’m certain that there are people who were deeply touched by “3 A.M” – enough people bought it, that’s for sure – but I just wasn’t one of them. Virtually every song that I’ve written about in this book spoke to me in some way. That may or may not have been your own experience with these songs. If music appreciation is based on personal experience (like I believe it to be), then my opinions are in no way more valid than anyone else’s. All that I (or anyone else) can do is attempt to relate why some things move me, and others don’t.
In light of my indifference to their first album, I had no big expectations for the second album, but that changed as the songs started to leak out over the radio. Like most people, I heard “Bent” first. Initially, my reaction was surprise over the unconventional arrangement, which struck me as a brave move for a band that was courting the top 40. Then, the lyrics hit home. Without backing away, “Bent” portrays a desperate but dysfunctional relationship, and the music caught the emotional imbalance conveyed by the lyrics. Considering my circumstances, I was able to apply personal meaning to the words, and I became captivated. “Bent” left a mark, but “If You’re Gone” went straight for my jugular.
“I think I’m just scared – I think too much
I know this is wrong it’s a problem I’m dealing…”
The situation worsened when, with the song playing in the background during an emotionally vulnerable discussion with my wife, she stopped in mid-sentence and said, “You know, this song reminds me of you.” It was hard enough for me to admit this to myself, but for anyone else to recognize it (my wife especially) was particularly unnerving. Am I that transparent, or is this song that good at capturing the essence of my fears, my frustration and ultimately, my hope that things will get better? I have a lot of work to do, but I’m grateful for “If You’re Gone”, not only because it makes me feel something, but because it provides me with some solace from self-induced insecurity while I try to sort out a way to make everything all right again.
“If you’re gone, maybe it’s time to come home.”

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