Matthew Winters

Matthew Winters has been labeled an "indie/acoustic rogue."

It's been said that he has "more balls than a bowling alley."

It's been said that if Alkaline Trio and Conor Oberst had a child it would be Matthew Winters.

Let it be said here that Winters has been and always will be his own entity.

Rooted in the dregs of Spokane, WA, Winters has had short stints in bands ranging from metal to hardcore to political, Propagandhi-esque punk rock, even a bit of hip hop. All the while he wrote and maintained his own emotions on the sidelines.

These emotions eventually surfaced and boiled over into demos and CD's that are collectively known as The Piss Sessions.

Winters's latest effort, appropriately titled ...Under Your Skin Like Splinters (2007) has been a giant leap from his folky roots.

Veering from the abrasive, anti-click track, solely acoustic sound that has acted as the groundwork for all his music, Winters employed a drummer for ...Under Your Skin. He layered and added other instruments to the record, thusly defining his style with more sound and a cleaner, more produced tone.

For the fans that remember him for his drunken, campfire-like stage presence, ...Under Your Skin Like Splinters was something of a mindfuck.

However, still flying solo with just his guitar, Winters has been able to maintain the original feel of the songs that he wrote alone, tipsy, and in the dark. Winters's style appeals to both sides of the tracks.

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the drunk hounds

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The Drunk Hounds by Matthew

I'm sifting through cigarette butts with Sondre Lerche humming in the background. I'm reading some dirty poetry that's deemed "noteworthy" by the drunk hounds who live nose-deep in their coffee mugs. (then dream their mindless dreams.. they're mindless.) I'm sucking up all the fumes of our battered scene. I'm addicted, now... to failure. (The drug that's way too readily available.) And I live nose-deep in my drink. (Then dream my mindless dreams... I'm mindless) I can't seem so unlikely to make fun of those just like me. That's my blood spilled on canvas. That's my crowd in this..... Now I'm sifting through all the books full of shit I wrote and I'm sticking by every word whether they were true or not. I live nose-deep in my drink. (Then dream my mindless dreams.) I'm sucking up all the tears that got me here. I'll keep them in a jar with my piss. The dogs will move. They'll feast on anything they can find, but nothing can satiate their hunger for something new...






huge ups to Jae Ham: The Album Maker

Songs.

Have you ever been hit by a car?
My head hit the windshield and I wrote "Brim To Dregs" in midair.

I topped the charts with a hit.. and run.

Don't trust Seattle's U-District drivers. They left a bad taste in my mouth. The taste being the front end of someone's hippie stickered out, cheeseball Prius.

Granted, I was walking in the bike lane and it was late. Honestly, though, I'd rather be run down by a chickly-looking dude on a fixed gear than a car. C'mon!

Coexist? Right.

I do have to say word the poor girls walking behind me who had to see me get mauled. Thank you for trying to get their plate number as they sped off.