Random Musings of a Curious Mind

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Matt Bellamy MUSE

Matt Bellamy appears somewhat uneasy. Having just been confronted with the title of ‘modern musical genius’, he’s toying with the art of question avoidance, humming distractedly as he gazes out of the tour bus window at an army of French fans preparing to enter La Cigale. “Does that look like he’s comfortable with it?” laughs bandmate Dom. After a contemplative pause, the frontman musters a humble response: “No, because I’m not one. A musical genius is like Beethoven, and to me being called that is just a sign of the times. With my definition of the word I’d never fit in it.”

Unfortunately for Matt, popular opinion would seem to suggest otherwise. Since the band’s conception in 1994, Matt, Chris Wolstenholme and Dominic Howard have emerged from the sleepy Devonshire town of Teignmouth to produce poignant, musically-astute ballads and schizophrenic guitar driven explosions that have left critics foaming at the mouth since the release of their debut album ‘Showbiz’ in 1999. Rising from the tiresome ashes of Britpop, they quickly built up a reputation for their exhilarating live shows, spanning the musical and visual spectrums from delicate to destructive, night after night. Now, as they complete a European tour amidst the triumph of manic Top 20 hit ‘Plug In Baby’, their latest album ‘Origin Of Symmetry’ is about to set their name down in the scrolls of success for quite some time to come.

Whilst you won’t find any significant directional changes or headline-grabbing musical departures, ‘Origin Of Symmetry’ is, without doubt, a more mature and self-assured continuation of the Muse we know and love. The cherished combination of operatic vocal climaxes, raw-edged guitars and masterful piano-orientated intros is still going strong – because for Bellamy and Co the transformations have been rather more personal. “We’ve grown up, we’ve got less inhibitions” Matt begins tucking his strikingly thin frame into a cross-legged position. “We’re better at playing our instruments than we were on our first album, and over the years since Showbiz we’ve taken in so many different influences, seen different films, heard different music and got into different bands. The only reason I would say this album’s better is because it’s more in tune with my situation and in time with where I am now.”

In fact, similarities akin to hearing the Spanish tones of ‘Uno’ during ‘Screenager’ are of little surprise to him. “I can still hear something in ‘Showbiz’ that I hear on all the songs on this album,” he ponders before entering into lyrical territory. “It’s still about the origin of what’s meant to be humanity, of what we have in common with each other. Most of the songs I’ve ever written, both on the last album and on this one, have been in some form of transit,” he considers. “It’s about movement and change.” However, discovering exactly what’s behind the title is an independent mission. “It makes sense when you see the album’s artwork,” he reasons. “It a collection of the work of 14 artists who’ve all been given that same title – so even though each piece is in a radically different style, you get a sense of there being some form of continuity through different people’s perceptions of the same theme. I think that applies to the songs too, there’s something in common with them all.” But as you’d expect from the ever-philosophical Bellamy, it isn’t quite that simple. “It’s also the term for the next major human discovery,” he continues. “Everyone’s been writing about the origin of life so now they’ll start looking at the origin of symmetry; there’s a certain amount of stability in the universe and to find out where it originates from would be to find out if God exists.”  

Despite choosing Tool producer Dave Bottrill to work on four of the album’s tracks, including ‘Plug In Baby’ and current single ‘New Born’, the pattern of persistence has been mirrored in the band’s decision to collaborate once more with John Leckie, following his efforts with ‘Showbiz’. “There was no real grand plan,” Matt insists, “we didn’t sit down and say, ‘Right, second album, we’ll work with him’. We decided Dave Bottrill would record ‘Plug In Baby’ because John was in Africa, but then he had to go and work with Tool in the States for months and months. So when John came back, we went with him-because he can get any studio he wants, they all kiss his arse! He got us this big boat on the Thames where Pink Floyd used to work, and Charlie Chaplin lived there, or died there or something…” However one notable difference this time round is the rather unorthodox presence of a certain ‘Feeling Good’, no less than a cover version of the Nina Simone classic. “I was trying to write songs like that but I can’t, I ripped it off!” He laughs in brutal honesty. “I think our interpretation is quite different from the original, but nowhere near as good. I chose it because it’s got brilliant lyrics, and it fits in with some of the other songs on the album. It’s about becoming you – getting rid of your past and thinking about leading a new life. I just want people to know that underlying what I do is something positive, and that I’m not here to kill myself or to destroy the situation we live in.”

Evidently, when discussing the album’s subject matter with Matt Bellamy, you’d be a fool to expect an easy ride. Intense, intellectual and frequently entering into his own world of in-depth ponderings and complex scientific theories, he is refreshingly aware and informed. And all this at just 22 years of age. “The details are never that interesting like, ‘Oh, I had an argument’ or ‘She left me’,” he explains. “It’s more how it affects the soul. The whole loss of a power figure to look up to is a big theme. When people are growing up, they’re always looking for someone to teach them what to do and show them the way. We invent kings, queens and governments to control everything, and we invent God as well. And I find myself with nothing to look up to; at least I haven’t found anything yet, any structure.”

What’s more, Muse have gone all futuristic on us, as Matt investigates the concept of man versus machine, noting some of the songs are about phobias of evolution and the paths it can take, especially ‘New Born’. Equally, he’s once again exploring his views on religion, or rather their absence. “Some tracks are directed at any particular entity that causes the universe to be – whether it be God or not I don’t know – just asking, ‘What’s the fucking point?’ Not in a negative way – I think I’m finding my own point. I was going to call ‘Megalomania’, ‘Go Forth and Multiply’, because that was the instruction in the Christian Bible. I mean, is that it? What, just go and have sex? Make babies and that’s it? Maybe that is it, in which case it’s not such a bad life after all,” he jokes sending Dom and Chris into a state of much amusement. “So why aren’t we getting laid right now? I’ll tell you why, it’s because there’s more to life than that.”

Contrary to misinformed belief, such moments of light heartedness feature just as heavily in the world of Muse as those of mind-baffling philosophizing and displays of emotion. Though Matt is always keen to divulge his thoughts on life and death, he’s equally likely to lose himself in the significance of buying food at Tesco, being on mushrooms whilst being hounded backstage or “being naked with Dom and Chris in a Jacuzzi rolling around and eating maggots”, culminating in uncontrollable giggling fits all round. Laid-back bassist Chris resides in a partial daydream, the ever-approachable gentle giant of the band who’s happy to let Matt do the talking and join in with the laughter, whilst drummer Dom feeds off Matt’s hyperactive humour completes the unlikely remedy duo with his dry, sarcastic wit.

It’s a side of the band that’s rarely seen, a fact that the singer in particular is all too aware of. Ask him how much he knows about the public’s perception of him and he’ll even finish your sentence for you: “How do I respond to people who call me… ‘a morose winger’?” he smiles inquisitively. Clearly, he’s heard it all before. “I just think that maybe they’re different people to me,” is his typically diplomatic conclusion. “It depends on how you view life. Is life a traumatic experience to you? Intense pleasure can sound like trauma to some people.” Misconceptions have undoubtedly plagued Muse, from the frustrating Radiohead comparisons to a ruffled Kelly Jones accusing the in fact relatively self-conscious – Matt, of being “up his own arse”. In reality he admits, “I’m embarrassed when I hear my voice, when I hear myself singing certain lyrics. If I’m in a room with a couple of friends having a chat and one of them puts on our record I find it difficult because they start looking at you like you’re weird.”

There’s little doubt that delving into the Bellamy psyche comes with its revelations, not least due to his unique and unconventional way of doing things. “I always conceptualize on some bollocks scale, maybe because I can’t face the truth!” he suggests, humoring himself. “When I write I honestly do it absolutely straight, I don’t think about it for one moment. Afterwards, I can look back at lyrics and think, ‘I was reading that book’, or ‘I saw that film’, to see a combination of events which happened in time and just spewed out into a song. But at the time of writing I have no idea what’s going on.” He also seems bewildered at the idea that his songs could be anything other than autobiographical: “I can’t really talk about anyone else’s life,” he states with exasperation. “I can talk about people I know, but different characters are all within me anyway.”

Of course for most people, the mention of Matt Bellamy immediately equates to that voice. It’s got to go you know he gibes before Dom chips in with an explanation as to just how he reaches those dizzy sonic heights. “Basically, I just kick him in the balls,” he deadpans. Matt’s version is perhaps a little less painful. “I’m just small aren’t I?” he offers, already resigned to the fact. “I’ve got small lungs and small vocal cords which means pitch-wise, to other people my voice seems high. To an elephant it would probably seem inaudible, and to a mouse my highest note would be a big rumble. It’s relative. Then again, there could well be another reason. When we last played Paris I lost my voice so I went to a doctor and and she stuck a camera down my throat to take a picture of my vocal cords,” he remembers. “She told me that they weren’t like a bloke’s vocal cords and she’d never seen that sort of thing before. Apparently they’re — they’re like a woman’s.”

Surprisingly in light of his aptitude, Matt was never actively encouraged into music as a child. Ironically, his brother was provided with piano, guitar and singing lessons but “hated it because he wasn’t really into music” Meanwhile, with the parental unit having lost faith after the failed case of offspring number one, Matt took to teaching himself “just because the instruments were there”. “There was a time when I was genuinely interested in becoming a performer in the classical sense,” he reveals, “but I wasn’t a very good music reader. The guitar was the only one I managed to have a few lessons on, because the person didn’t mind if I interpreted it and started adding my own notes.”

Would you agree that Muse are bridging the gap between classical and rock? “It’s a big gap to bridge” stresses Dom. “A lot of time has gone by since the most genius works were written,” Matt adds rationally. “I’d say we take influence from that music, but in modern times no one really sticks to one style anymore. A lot of older people listen to classical music and not much else, so it’s in one of those worlds, like being in the art world or something, and that makes it very purist. I’m not into that side of it at all. I find it difficult to get into concerts because Guardian readers have bought tickets 10 years in advance or I don’t have the right clothes. It’s a shame because there’s a lot to be learnt from classical music; it’s of a human genius that’s rare in modern music. I think that time’s got to end.” But ask if Muse are the band to do the deed and you’ll be met by a defiant “no”. “The only reason it’s incorporated into our songs is to introduce the frustration I have with that world.”

As with any successful band. Muse know that the privileged situation of being able to follow your dreams for a living comes with its downfalls, namely the loss of a personal life. For Chris with a long-term girlfriend and his young son Alfie back at home, it’s a constant issue but one he tries not to dwell on. “I miss them loads, but I’m not going to sit on my arse all day thinking about it,” he asserts. “Kelly has come on tour before but it’s not the ideal environment for my son with people smoking on the bus. This tour will be the longest period of time I’ve spent away from them, but I could never do a nine to five.” Dom’s life is currently a girlfriend-free zone, and Matt admits, “it’s virtually impossible to have relationships” though he then attempts, “There was this girl when I was in Grenada and I wanted to be a flamenco guitarist.” But it’s not just romantic relations that suffer, as Matt will testify.

“I’ve met people who I really get on with, but you don’t get time to form a proper relationship. I find it difficult to be with the people we used to hang out with, because they don’t know anything to talk about other than the band. But then I think you can only ever count your closest friends on one hand any-way, and that’s the way it is your whole life.” The rise to fame has inevitably taken its toll at times, with Matt in particular feeling the strain of grueling worldwide tour schedules in the form of headaches, hallucinations and states of extreme paranoia. But rather than going off the rails, aside from regular aftershow parties and plenty of alcohol, the Muse boys seldom indulge in traditional rock star behavior.

“You’re tempted towards groupies all the time,” Malt says openly. “But it’s just not cool. You want people to be into you for other reasons.” He cites his most outrageous escapade as throwing a TV out of a window, but maintains that he was just helping a seedy old record company geezer with his rock ‘n’ roll moment; before adding: “I’m sure record companies are more rock ‘n’ roll than the bands anyway.” Matt, Dom and Chris are actually very much in control. Whether it be album artwork, choosing support bands or, on a greater scale, which countries they visit and when, Muse have the fortunate advantage of complete command over the decision-making process, due to being signed to a different record company in each country. “It’s immensely complicated to work out where we should be, and how long we should stay somewhere, because we feel like we owe each place time, especially America who signed us first,” elaborates Matt with a twinge of guilt. “But decisions reside with us rather than some record company person and that’s allowed us to develop a better understanding of each country so we have a great deal of respect for the people we work with.”

Something Muse are far less able to dictate is their fans’ behavior. Being on the receiving end of adulation is an aspect of the job that the trio are still adjusting to, and the constant demands of admirers continue to leave them feeling helpless, and even a tad confused. “Sometimes they do expect too much” opines Dom. “The worst ones are those that don’t think they’re weird,” Matt proceeds with a sinister twist in his voice, “they think it’s normal to follow you everywhere, and if you don’t talk to them they’re like, ‘How dare you not talk to ME!’ It’s learning that sometimes you’ve got to do stuff; you’re walking across a room because you’ve got to do an interview or something. It’s a bit gutting when people get like that because they’re upset. You try to be as friendly and sociable as possible, but sometimes it’s never enough.”

Thanks to the impressive response to ‘Plug In Baby’ such encounters are undoubtedly on the increase. But whilst Muse have been sitting comfortably in the charts at number 11 alongside other British rock successes like Feeder, quiz them as to whether they feel they’ve received a boost from the scene’s current metal fuelled commerciality and you’ll receive an understandably skeptical response. “It could never be because it’s good music!” sniggers a heavily sarcastic Matt. “It wouldn’t matter if it had been number one or number 50; it’s just nice to know that someone out there gets it. Chart positions become important at a certain level, because there’s only one place you can go and that’s back down, although I think the thing is to go down gracefully. But we’re still on the way up so I’ll face that later!”

It’s confidence that’s justified. Watching the list of achievements grow, it’s going to be a hell of a lot later before Muse encounter the downward spiral. Though for Matt the future holds “being like an old Tom Waits, playing some weird club with smoky vibes” and Dom is allegedly “hanging to play stadiums”, in Paris tonight it’s clear that they’ve got more than enough to keep them busy for the time being. Greeted like heroes in a surreal and hysterical scene of pop icon banners, relentless moshing and impatient chants of “Matthew”, the band’s earlier claims that they “aren’t that big” here dissolve before the first notes are even played. Plug in and prepare to get hooked.

The Muse phenomenon has only just begun.  

Matt Bellamy MUSE

Matthew Bellamy MUSE