Part 1

Name: Matt Tong
Nationality: British
Occupation: Drummer
Current Release: Shook on Matador
Recommendation: The “Outline” trilogy by Rachel Cusk / Julia Holter’s “Have You In My Wilderness”.

If you enjoyed this interview with Matt Tong, visit the Algiers website for more news about their music and shows.



When did you start writing/producing/playing music and what or who were your early passions and influences? What was it about music and/or sound that drew you to it?

I started learning piano when I was 6. My mum always had The Beatles on and I was really drawn to their later, piano driven music. I loved it all: the bordering-on-ridiculous melodrama of “The Long and Winding Road” to the foreshadowing-of-the-60s-comedown melancholia of “A Day in the Life”.



I thought old rock ’n’ roll footage was cool as well. Little Richard epitomised everything I wanted to be as a performer: a man with a stage presence that seemed to be in the service of full throttle abandonment. This was somewhat at odds with the 5 years of classical training I subsequently received and I rather got bogged down with competitions, grading examinations and orchestra. I’m grateful for the brief formal education I received, but upon reflection, I didn’t enjoy the scrutiny and it was pretty damaging for my self-confidence.



My early promise unrealised, I stopped for a while, whilst casually picking up the drums, but up until 16, I had very little interest in writing or performing other than trying to figure out how to play “Starlight Zone” from Sonic the Hedgehog on piano.

I didn’t particularly enjoy being a teenager and would frequently roll my eyes when confronted with the co-option of the teenage emotional life by record companies and, as it was the early 90s, I rejected grunge wholesale. It wasn’t until Britpop that I briefly felt connected to something outside of whatever stupid racket I was making in my parents’ dining room. I purchased a copy of “I Should Coco” by Supergrass and became intent on trying to embody the runaway energy of that record. Until then, I hadn’t heard anything that simultaneously contained Beatles-esque harmonies and complete chaos.



It wasn’t until a little later down the line that I begin to listen to the other bands they were really channelling, such as The Who and The Buzzcocks. I started trying to write music then, and formed a band with some friends at school. At some point I borrowed a Yamaha 4-track recorder, and trying to force sound to bend to my will became something of a habit of mine.

Years later, when I was starting out with Bloc Party, I managed to get a demo I recorded played on BBC Radio 1, which was a high point for me, even though it sounded like I mixed it in a rubbish bin. But since then I’ve been in and out of writing and recording. Some of it is serviceable, most of it not.

As for my current situation, Algiers is already stacked with great songwriters and producers, so I tend to mind my own business and not interfere too much.

Some people experience intense emotion when listening to music, others see colours or shapes. What is your own listening experience like and how does it influence your approach to music?

I tend not to listen to anything too intently and this is something that goes back to when I was studying at university. It was a 7-hour bus ride back to my parents’ house, so whenever I went home to visit, I’d immediately put my Walkman on and nod off. I used to absorb and interpret a lot of musical information whilst falling asleep, or on the cusp of waking up, and I began registering how the same piece of music would sound quite different when I was fully awake.

A lot of my own compositions are often informed by this need to get back to this place in my subconscious that, of course, I can never actively truly return to. At home, I usually have something on in the background whilst I go about my business and I try to flatten it against the confines of my immediate environment, as if it’s just a piece of furniture, and once in a blue moon, something unexpected piques my attention and whatever that is, whether the timbre of an instrument, or a run of lyrics or a chord sequence, that’s usually the moment where I try and store something in the bank for later use and exploration.

How would you describe your development as an artist in terms of interests and challenges, searching for a personal voice, as well as breakthroughs?

I would formally describe myself as a formerly foolhardy and stubborn musician. I quite often approached music as I (still) approach DIY. That is to say if some idea didn’t fit or make sense, I’d try and force it through anyway. I’ve learned relatively late in the game that if something doesn’t feel good, or make sense, to just drop it, or to step back for a while and re-evaluate.

I had so little patience for that part of the creative process as a young man, but that’s perhaps because I had a string of entirely unexpected successes early on in my career and I became quite neurotic and desperate to get as many of my ideas out there before the chances I had to do so were taken away from me. I was quite immature, really, and found it hard to divorce myself from the negativity of careerism. It had gotten to a point where I just assumed music was something to be given and taken away from me at will, which rather overlooked the fact that if I hadn’t become an actual working musician, I’d still be making music.

As for interests, I’ve slowly moved beyond thinking about form and mastering it, which was something that dominated my experience as a musician for a very long time. I feel like I’m much more interested in letting whatever takes my fancy wash over me versus having the impulse to always be showing or trying to show that I’m competent at a number of things in music outside of what I’m immediately known for, which is drumming.

I was obsessed for a long time with making a record that showcased my vocal abilities. Well guess what, I’m a mediocre singer, but I have maybe two or three songs I can absolutely nail at karaoke. So that is to say, I have other outlets which mean I don’t let my vanity and need for validation completely warp my artistic practise.

Tell me a bit about your sense of identity and how it influences both your preferences as a listener and your creativity as an artist, please.

I don’t know if it’s necessarily a bad thing or even if this phase in my life will last that long, but I currently identify as an increasingly cantankerous middle-aged person who is literally drowning in other voices. I am so thoroughly sick of the fucking internet and I am sick of commentary and I am sick of feeling like I no longer have the space to step back and allow whatever is happening in the world around me to filter through at my own pace.

As such, I’m not particularly interested in listening to contemporary music in my own language or that even has words. And yes, this is all on me, and I accept my approach towards relating to the world and consuming its media needs to drastically change. But here I am, nonetheless.

It’s funny though, as I age, I begin to better understand (whilst not particularly agreeing with) the nostalgic impulse. I see why older people often stick with the music of their youth, because that was the music that spoke to them, when they themselves were young. So, whilst I don’t need something to speak to me, I certainly don’t think I particularly want to listen to something that illuminates a contemporary, familiar-seeming (though not really) world that makes little sense to me. Can I just point this feeling does NOT extend to my politics!

The short answer to this question is I listen to a lot of ambient. It’s been a stressful couple of years and I don’t want to hear about anyone else’s fucking bullshit. As to my creativity, this has made me much more attuned to timbre, texture, found sound and whatever it is that can be communicated without words.

What, would you say, are the key ideas behind your approach to music and art?

I suppose if I had to boil everything I do down to a core tenet, it would be “learn without mastering”. I’d like to think I’m relatively open to being surprised and I think that comes with a willingness to learn or to place oneself into new and unexpected situations.

As for “without mastering”, I’d be the first to say my musical ability is pretty limited. *Somehow* Instagram figured out I am a drummer and my feed is subsequently clogged with drummers who can do things with one hand I can barely do with two. I mean great, good for them, but all I see is everything I’m not and that’s fine!

I’m aware this makes me come across as somewhat contrarian, but for various reasons, I am opposed to manifesting personal excellence. Getting by and knowing my constraints has always been enough for me, I like to work by understanding my limitations, not to improve, but to constantly look for ways to work around them. This has often helped me generate ideas that seem authentic to me and has served me fairly well up until this point.

That said, I certainly don’t want to get worse at what I do!

How would you describe your views on topics like originality and innovation versus perfection and timelessness in music? Are you interested in a “music of the future” or “continuing a tradition”?

I’m always a bit wary of phrases like “music of the future” because they always sound like tag lines to me. Bloc Party was so obsessed with being a modern band, but I’m not entirely sure any of us were wise enough to understand what that could have possibly meant.

I’m also wary of how we frame such things as originality and innovation because my understanding is that so many things that have advanced civilisation have been the result of accidents or misunderstandings. In music and art, so many people who have subsequently been lauded as visionaries were entirely unaware that they would be honoured in this way during the creation of their signature works. I’m always happy when boundaries are pushed but it’s never been my sole objective as someone involved in creating music.

If anything it’s hard for me to extract timelessness from innovation because something timeless continues to exist for each subsequent generation to interpret and reinterpret as they will, something that continues to exist for new people upon which they can map out their own hopes and aspirations and dreams, and that feels innovative enough to me.

Over the course of your development, what have been your most important instruments and tools - and what are the most promising strategies for working with them?

Oddly enough, I think the guitar might be my most important instrument. I don’t really play a lot or really think much about the guitar, but I can never quite seem to get away from its presence in my life. Every time I set out to make music without guitar, it almost certainly makes its way on to a recording. I enjoy the way I can never quite seem to play the same thing the same way twice.

To that end, the comp function on Pro Tools really opened up possibilities for me when I first started to seriously use DAWs 15 years ago. I appreciate being able to knock out 10-15 takes of a guitar part played with varying degrees of competence and trying to form a coherent arc out of whatever it is I have tracked. It’s interesting for me trying to uncover some semblance of nuance through something I did unintentionally and figuring out if it’s worthwhile trying to foreground it.

The only other thing I consider invaluable is my trusty Boss digital metronome. I’m a lot more sensitive now to the importance of figuring out how to let a piece of music breath through considerate tempo selection. When I first started recording in studios, it was very much a case of smashing everything out at the speed I was used to playing it at and gluing it rigidly to the grid. I’m much less concerned with that now and will map out a song with tempo changes if necessary.