1. One of a class of 12th-century and 13th-century lyric poets in southern France, northern Italy, and northern Spain, who composed songs in langue d'oc often about courtly love.
2. A strolling minstrel.
Matt Scott may not be a wandering minstrel trapped in 13th Century France, but the troubadour tag still hangs well around his neck, as well as emblazing a large swathe of T-Shirts within the dark, sweaty confines of King Tuts. Matt has been on our musical radar for some time at NHC MUSIC – of course he has though, because as far as musicianship goes, the guy is fucking fantastic. Swear words on a Sunday? Damn straight, there is no better words to emphasis just how talented he is when you stick a guitar in his hands and a microphone in his face. Troubadour? Bloody virtuoso more like. No point mincing our words here, Matt Scott is the real deal.
There are far too many bodies packed at the front for me when I arrive, late as usual to the gig, so I perch myself up at the bar, order a cold one, and watch what is left of the support on the big screen. I thankfully manage to catch the arse end of Craig Borland on the stage, and I’m gutted it’s just the last couple of songs as he strikes me as quite the talent. Well written songs with a little bit of a kick to them, sung with heart and honesty. What’s not to like, he was the perfect foil for Matt Scott. With any luck I’ll be able to catch him again sometime soon and get a proper review of his full set.
I’m still at the bar when Matt takes to the stage about 30 minutes after my arrival. I’m three ciders in due to the insane heat and the crowd at the front just keeps getting bigger, so I pop myself at the back of the pack and try my best to get a good spot to watch the show, but it’s like all the tall people from Kilmarnock have been poured in here tonight, and the majority of them are standing directly in front of me. It’s a cracking crowd for an out of town act though, that’s more telling of Matt’s skills than my words could ever be.
As far as words go though, it would be easy to run out of plaudits for him. Onstage at King Tut’s, a stage that has been graced by some of the greats of music, Matt owns it. It belongs to him and his band, and no one else. Don't forget the fantastic band behind the man himself as well, as they are honestly some of the most talented musicians I have heard assembled together on the one stage in quite some time, and I’m a bit of a gig whore recently so I have seen quite a lot of musos on quite a lot of stages. Special mentions go to the saxophone (Fucking hell, who doesn’t love a well-played bit of smooth sax??) and to Anna Sweeney, who graced the stage for some tunery too, her silky vocals perfectly complimenting Matt’s own.
It was an EP launch played out like a bloody stadium gig, and with a few more gigs like this under his belt, he should be playing some massive venues soon enough.
*Apologies for the lack of original photographs. Thee ciders quickly turned into six, and six led to a baws up involving my camera later in the night on the way up the road. The camera survived. The photographs didn't. Ce La Vie. Jamie