MATT MARTIANS: FUN, FREE & RELENTLESS

A brief convo on career contentment, creative isolation and the success of his second solo album, The Last Party. 

Matt Martians, keyboardist of the Grammy-nominated R&B band, The Internet, recently released his second solo project, The Last Party, which, if nothing else, serves as a true vignette of his current state of being. While it may not carry the same rebellious, abstract energy of his debut album, Drum Chord Theory, it strikes a much different chord in that it is more cohesive and mature in an effortless kind of way. 

Today, Matt appears to be quite comfortable and completely open with himself and his experience, giving us priceless glimpses into his life with tracks like the beautiful break-up anthem, “Movin’ On,” along with “Off My Feet/Westside Rider Anthem,” “Look Like” and “Pony Fly” featuring fellow Internet bandmate, Steve Lacy who also recently released his first solo album, Apollo XXI. Lighter, jazzier tunes in the second half of “Knock Knock” and “Southern Isolation 2” hold the project together in an unobtrusive way, making it feel a lot like a nice, mellow ride that gradually unfolds as you meander your way through the shifting emotions of each track.

I had a chance to chat with Matt about his latest creation over the phone on a hot, languid Saturday afternoon in his hometown of East Point, GA. 

Brittany: How does the release of your second solo project feel?

Matt: It feels good knowing that I can do it again, but it’s more amusing because I’m in a pretty content area of my career right now, so it feels a lot easier, which I like. 

B: Is it true that you completed this project in just two weeks?

M: Yes ma’am. 

B: So what was that like?

M: I realized [with] time, if you just [turn off] a lot, you can get a lot of shit done. I had these [strong feelings] and I ain’t have nothing else to do. I didn’t want to go outside so I was like, damn, I may as well just make a whole album because I got shit on my mind I want to talk about, and I don’t feel like just being bored here and wallowing in my sorrows, so, make an album. 

B: Yeah, channel that energy differently. 

M: Yeah.

B: One of the common themes I’ve seen come up in both The Last Party and Drum Chord Theory is sort of like these “unrequited love stories.” Is that an intentional focus, or does it just seem like something that comes naturally for you to talk about a lot in your music?

M: I mean, that’s one of those things where I just feel like this is the best way to express how you feel in that moment because you’re able to talk about it in this very abstract, nuanced way. This is really how we feel. Sometimes you’re hurt and sometimes you’re mad and sometimes you’re content. All these emotions happen when you’re just trying to deal with something. It’s hard to put that on a sheet of paper. Sometimes you have to make it into a song and give people that feeling. For me, I wouldn’t even say it’s about unrequited [love], it’s almost about people that really really love you, but they just don’t get it. There are people that I could be with, but it’s about trying to find somebody that understands me. I think [some of] the themes of the album are like, I could still be in these relationships, but I really want somebody that understands me. 

B: Right. 

M: If I wanted to be in relationships with people in my past I could, but I chose to not be in a relationship because I knew I had a lot more personal growth to go through. I think a lot of people get another partner before they really figure out who they are first, and you’re just lost. You never really figure it out. I’ve been blessed to deal with people I still have love for and love. We went through stuff but, you know, they know me better than anybody so they know like, this is the best way I can get how I feel off my chest. 

B: How different would you say it is creating solo projects versus creating with The Internet? 

M: It’s pretty similar. The only difference is when you’re solo, you can throw anything on there. Even with The Internet, we all have to check off on it before it goes. That’s the difference. [One of us] may really like a song, but say, ‘I just don’t hear myself on it,’ so I’m like, ok, now I’ll just use it for my project, you know? That’s how it usually works. 

B: When it comes to you really focusing on creating, is that isolation inspiring for you? Do you sometimes find unique ways to be inspired or is it always organic? 

M: I don’t know, when I’m alone, I’m just naturally creative. I’ve never been a person that likes to be around a lot of people, even as a kid. I’m one of those people that doesn’t have to be in the thick of things to feel alive. I feel more alive when I’m alone. 

B: I read that one of your older brothers used to be an A&R for Outkast. 

M: Yep, my older brother Mitch.

B: What was that like? Around how old were you when this happened?

M: Like 16 or 17. He was one of the main people that helped discover Janelle Monae. He was always a big fan of Outkast, so an internship turned into an A&R position; and he also helped Janelle and them found Wondaland. Now he manages an artist named Baby Rose who’s on my album. 

B: Nice. Would you say that you learned a lot from him about the industry during that time? Is there anything that you’ve taken and applied to your own career?

M: Not necessarily anything about the industry—he taught me about music. I don’t think anyone can really teach you about industry because everyone’s path is completely different. He kept my ear open to different things. When everyone was pretty much looking to the same few rappers, he would show me something that I’ve never seen before, which was tight. 

B: You’re a pretty multi-faceted artist and even have some background in illustration and graphic design. How important do you feel it is for artists to dabble in other mediums today?

M: I think it’s important because you cut out the middleman when you know how to do everything yourself. You don’t have to wait on anybody to help you be creative because you have an idea in your head of what you already want to do, and even though somebody else may get almost 95% of it, nobody can get it to 100% but you.  

B: With so many new artists coming out, particularly in LA where you were previously based, do you ever feel pressure as an artist or as a producer to push your sound in new and innovative ways to stay relevant or “keep up” with what’s happening musically?

M: No, because we’ve been ahead of it. There’s still no black band with five people that all have their own solo careers. Until somebody does that, I don’t feel no pressure. Nobody’s figured out how to keep five black artists together in a band and also allow them to have individual careers, so you got a catch up to us. But also, I don’t really care what everyone else is doing. That’s always been my weapon. My path is my path and your path is your path. Good luck to you on your path, but that ain’t my path. I would never ever look at your path and say ‘why ain’t that mine?’ because obviously there’s a reason why. No other artist has ever made me feel pressure about anything. I think the best thing for all artists is [to understand that] how you feel about something should always be the number one thing. You shouldn’t care what other people are doing. Just do what you do. 

B: Why do you think there aren’t any other black bands that have been able to stick together? 

M: You know what I think it is? I think it’s just my life’s answer. We all understand we have different paths individually, but we all also understand we have a path as a group. Understanding that both of those paths are equally as important as the other is what keeps us together. If Syd’s not happy, then I’m not happy. If I’m not happy, Syd’s not happy. Everybody needs to be happy and if you can figure out a way to let everybody be an individual but also be a part of a group at the same time, then you’ve already won. 

B: Do you feel that being from the south has influenced your sound at all?

M: I mean you can hear it in the bass and drums in The Internet’s stuff. Just some of the basslines and the funkiness of it—like Mista from Organized Noize and old Dungeon Family shit from like the 90s—just classic Atlanta music. And even artists that people may not know like Sleepy Brown. There’s so much Atlanta music in my music it’s not even funny but, I’m one of those people where I never want my identity to be based around where I’m from. A lot of people don’t even know I’m from Atlanta. I’ll go to the mall and somebody’ll be like ‘Oh shit, what are you doing in Atlanta?’ and I’m like, ‘I’m from here. I live in the city.’ 

B: What made you decide to move from LA and back to Atlanta permanently?

M: I moved back to Atlanta in 2015 because after our third album [Ego Death] came out, something was telling me I don’t need to be in LA while I feel like we’re about to have our most successful album. And I didn’t want to become unfocused. I need some sort of balance, so I went home and it was the best decision for me. I have a mental clarity that a lot of artists don’t have. 

B: You talk a bit about style on both the second half of “Knock Knock” as well as the second half of “Pony Fly” ft. Steve Lacy. How would you describe your personal style? Do you go through different phases or do you have a particular type of style that you stick to?

M: It has to be something that really speaks to me. I may have maybe a jacket I like or a certain style of hat, and I may wear that style of hat for like a month, then I’ll get over it and start wearing [something else]. It just depends on how I’m feeling. I used to wear Lacoste all the time and I don’t even touch Lacoste now. It’s just not how I feel now. It’s like that phase of me is gone. I like to go through eras where I can look back at old pictures and be like, ‘I remember that era! That’s when I was wearing all Air Force Ones.”  

B: I feel like a lot of creatives I talk to definitely go through phases and it can even correspond with what they may be working on at the time too.

M: Oh yeah. I’m on my minimalist color shit now where it’s more about colors—not matching colors but colors that really represent how I’m feeling that day. I want my colors and how I wear my shit to really reflect how I feel or how I’m trying to feel.  

B: Anything in the works that you can or would like to talk about?

M: I’m chillin’. We chillin’. Steve’s about to go on tour for you guys but me and Syd about to take a BIG break. 

B: Yeah, y’all been working.  

M: Yeah, we’ve been working. It’s about time that we finally enjoy the fruits of our labor for a lil’ bit, then we’ll be back with another Internet album. It’s probably gonna’ be the best Internet album of all just because of where our minds are right now, so I’m excited because I know it’s about to be our best album. I already feel it. 

B: What would you say The Last Party means to you?

M: The Last Party, to me, is [being content with] things in my life that I thought I was looking for acceptance in. I don’t know, it’s kind of like a farewell to just giving a fuck almost. I wanted to stop caring about things I didn’t care about. 

Photography Christian Cody