After clambering up steep stairs to get to the “Keep Calm” gig at The Waiting Room I was in a place that felt like an extension of my home. I was about to embark on a musical journey in my lounge. The atmosphere was homey engulfed in dim red lighting with toasty auburn and burned orange tones.  The floor was littered with couches galore. My senses were teased with the smell of pancakes and even though it was considerably freezing outside the air was charged with electricity. Chatter resounded off the wooden walls as people sauntered over to grab another beer or glass of wine. The fact that the show started an hour late and the sound guy messed up the first few minutes became part of the background drone as Matthew Mole took the platform.

He strummed the first few chords and I found myself living out clichés. The compacted room disappeared around me and all that was left was him, me, and his guitar. I couldn’t help but fawn over him. His voice elicited a school girl like crush that I didn’t want to shake. My blushed cheeks and rapidly beating heart weren’t entirely irrational though. Whilst many upcoming indie artists, skin tight jeans and guitar slung over shoulder, attempt to display their talent, few approach the stand with penetrating lyrics and presence as Matthew did.

While the lyric “your soul begins to run” was still echoing in my mind I found my body responding to his next song before I could register. A jolt ran through my body leaving my foot happily tapping. Usually I am very weary of artists that do covers but when he glided into Two Door Cinema Club’s “I can talk” I could do nothing but smile. He, accompanied by a shaker and a trumpet, transcended an indie electro song into the purest of folk.

Nearing the end of his set I felt myself allowing my Romantic side run wild and free. As the words “I’d fly across the world for you” rolled out of his mouth my thoughts were racing, would you Matthew? Would you really do that for me? Raking all my emotion into one stack I would say that his music captivated me. The familiarity of his voice hit me by his last song: it parallels Marcus Mumford, front man of Mumford & Sons. He managed this without producing a carbon copy rendition. Contrary to Marcus’ rough edged velvety vocals, Matthew’s voice has more of a creamy innocence.

When he left the stage I felt the void creeping. I needed to hear more. But alas, all good things must come to an end. Seeing as I was besotted in real time I made the decision to cast my retrospective judgment on the performance. I concluded that he had sparked an insatiable desire that he alone could quench. I think it is a part of his act. I am left with little choice but to become a groupie and wait it out until he decides to make another appearance (a lifestyle I could quickly adjust to).

He had a telling connection with the crowd as well as the individual; a rare find for a one man band with a guitar and kick drum.

check him out in the mean time: