“That one just might let me keep my
job,” Rob Thomas jokes as he plays me
“Her Diamonds,” the first single from his
new album Cradlesong. Just weeks
away from the record’s release, Thomas
and engineer Hal Winer are camped out
beside the imposing SSL console at
BiCoastal Music, a Westchester County,
New York, recording studio, sculpting
songs and crafting vocals for the
album’s B-sides and bonus tracks.
Thomas multitasks with ease, comping
complex vocal lines with the precision of
an air traffic controller, stealing bites of
Chinese food, and taking time to delve
deep into the songs and stories behind
the new album, his first solo effort since
2005’s Something To Be.
Thomas, the Grammy-winning singer
and frontman of the successful rock band
Matchbox Twenty (and the scribe behind
such megahits as “Push,” “Smooth,” and
“Lonely No More”), is arguably the hardest
working songwriter in pop music today.
With his recorded efforts selling a
combined total of more than 80 million
albums worldwide, you might think he’d
spend more time traversing the society
party circuit than hammering out demos in
his home studio. But an iron-clad work
ethic, coupled with a relentless pursuit of
the unforgettable lyric and the devastating
chorus, is Thomas’s vice of choice these
days. “This is what I do,” he tells me. “I’m a
guy who writes songs.”
Cradlesong is another collection of
infectious Rob Thomas pop creations,
this time with a surprising sonic shift.
Acoustic and electronic timbres collide
with confidence, giving the entire collection
of tunes a new sheen all its own. The
Thomas Dolby-esque clang of “Gasoline,”
the Johnny Cash campfire call of “Getting
Late,” the unabashed, frenetic pop drive
of “Give Me the Meltdown” — all unique in
their aural architecture, yet all prime
examples of Rob’s songwriting craft at its
most refined.
Rob Thomas and I sat down over a
three-day period to talk about the making
of Cradlesong, and his continued quest to
write the perfect pop song.
On Cradlesong, you actually changed
the way you write songs and put
demos together. What’s different this
time around?
I used to write on piano. I play very little
guitar, so even if I’d start a song on guitar,
I’d have to use the piano — because I
know how to play it. I’d hear the chord I
would need to go to on the guitar and I
would get stuck, so I’d need to run to
the piano.
But when I’d start on the piano, sometimes
I just didn’t get the vibe I liked. On
the guitar, I could get that [strums an imaginary
guitar] shunk, ka-junk, ka-junk, kind
of feel. It’s so percussive.
When I first started to play, I had this
little Casiotone MT-68 keyboard. The way
[the keys physically clacked], I would usually
use the keyboard for percussion when I
played it. I would hit my bass notes and
make them click to make a percussive thing
happen. And so when I started to play
guitar, I did it the same way. Everything to
me was about the percussion.
Now with my new studio, I start working
on songs even when I don’t have an idea.
Or if I just have a melody for a verse, I can
follow it. I’ll get a drumbeat going, throw
that melody wherever I feel it, and then just
start writing. I’ll write at my Korg OASYS
and [Digidesign] Pro Tools, and just sing it,
hear it, sing it, hear it, change that line, go
back. . . . Sometimes I have no idea at all,
and I’ll just start with a drum beat.
On the OASYS?
Yeah, or through the OASYS and using
different drum software, like maybe Spectrasonics
Stylus RMX. Then I’ll play a bass
line, play a little keyboard part, kind of get a
vibe going, and then write to the track that
I’ve built — kind of like when somebody
sends you a track to write to. I’ve never
done anything like that before now, ’cause
I’ve never before had the ability to sit at my
house all afternoon and make a record.
So the first solo record was not written
that way?
No, the first solo record was just piano
and guitar. On the demos, there would
always be a small disconnect, because the
demos would be just a piano or guitar version
of the song. I’d bring the demos to
[producer Matt Serletic], and he would
have to presuppose a lot of things about
the vibe I’d be thinking of — for the record,
not just for the song.
Now I can bring in a much more finished
rendition of the way I want it to feel — edgy
here, or with such-and-such guitar part as
the whole vibe of the song there, so that it
builds out from that part. For me, everything
but piano and guitar used to be secondary.
Now, sometimes everything starts from
those “secondary” elements.
I still believe that with every one of the
songs on the record, I have to be able to sit
down at the piano and play you the song
stripped-down, and you should get it. It
can’t be “Well, then when the guitar comes
in it’s really cool.” Once you have to explain
a song to make somebody understand it,
it’s not there.
The intro to “Her Diamonds” is a
kind of percussive drum loop. Did
using that beat, in your new recording
setup, lay the groundwork for the rest
of the song?
Actually that one, oddly enough, started
with a drumbeat, but it was a totally different
drumbeat. When I started it, it was
more like Paul Simon’s “Slip Slidin’ Away,”
with a funk beat from Stylus.
Like a Steve Gadd kind of drum vibe?
Yeah. I had just gotten that new Velvet
program [Digidesign’s electric piano
plug-in for Pro Tools. –Ed.] and I was
going through these great Rhodes
sounds, and I found one that reminded me
of “Slip Slidin’ Away.” So it was all very
mellow. But then when I sent it to Matt
and told him, “Think Paul Simon,” he was
thinking of the albums Graceland and
Rhythm of the Saints. So he came back
with a completely different rhythm. That
was all Matt pulling it together. I would
have never come up with that vibe without
the Stylus drumbeat and the sound of the
Rhodes that brought that song out.
Cradlesong has a much different
sonic imprint than your last solo
album. It’s dirtier in places — the bottom
end is fatter and the mix of
acoustic and electronic sounds is
wider. Was this departure in production
intentional?
Matt was really conscious of that, and
also about looking for less traditional
sounds as well. My last record came out
during the Justin Timberlake “Cry Me A
River,” Timbaland-produced period. So a
tune like “Lonely No More” fit that vibe of
what was going on at the time. But to me,
that record wasn’t realized as much as
this one is. This one is definitely all over
the place in some ways, but it feels like a
unified record. All the tunes feel like
they’re from the same period in my life —
it sounds like me.
Who are some musicians, singers,
and songwriters that influenced you
coming up?
Tom Petty, without a doubt. Also growing
up, Elton John and Billy Joel. I remember
going to see those two in Orlando before
we were ever signed, on their head-to-head
tour.
Also, most people I know that are in
my musical world flipped their gasket
when that first Counting Crows record
[August and Everything After] came out.
That was the first time that I felt that the
kind of stuff I was working on in my
house was being represented on the
radio. That was when I felt like this is the
time. This is my time.
Chuck Close, the renowned visual
artist, has a saying: “Inspiration is for
amateurs.” And I think that the kind of
success you have had, and continue to
have, is due in no small part to that
kind of work ethic and drive. You’re
constantly writing songs and searching
for the next story to tell, instead of
just waiting around for inspiration to
hit you. You get up, and you do the
work. Period. Do you agree?
Without a doubt. You just have to start with
the basic thing. You have it, and I have it,
and everybody that writes songs for a living
has it — knowing how to write a song, and
knowing how to make a melody that makes
somebody go, “Oh, that’s really nice.”
That’s the key. But that, in and of itself, gets
you nowhere. Maybe it gets you in the
door. In fact, sometimes that just gives you
the Jones, and that kills you.
People can look at a piece of abstract
art and say, “I could have painted that.” But
they don’t understand that the purpose of
art was that they didn’t paint it. This guy
painted it. And half of art, is getting out of
f***ing bed and doing it. Half of being
Bono is the fact that Bono works his ass
off at being Bono. He’s got the most amazing
voice that was given to him by God, but
the reason we know about it is because he
is tireless at seeing how far his voice can
take him — and if can he write a better song
than the last song he wrote.
You seem like you’re still as excited to write, play, and
sing, as you were back in your hometown, playing for tips
in a bar or at a college.
True. You know, I’m still completely bewildered every day by the
gig, every time I sit down and come up with a song that passes
for me and I love it. I’m like, “It will never happen again. How
could that ever happen again?”
Sometimes I sit down and actually think about the impetus
for a song. I’ll remember where the melody came from, and how
I almost didn’t even follow it, how I wasn’t even going to sit
down to work on it — and then I think, “What would have happened
if I hadn’t? That song wouldn’t exist.” Then I start to think
about the math and I’m just like, “This is it. That was definitely
my last song.”
Sometimes I go downstairs to my studio just to make that not
happen. I’ll sit downstairs for hours and fish. For nothing. I’ll be
down there for four hours, and I’ll come upstairs, and my wife will
look at me, and I’ll say, “Nothing.”
But I’ve learned that if I do that for a few days, one day something
happens — like the first single, “Her Diamonds,” was one
of those. It was just days of fishin’ and fishin’ and fishin’, and I
was frustrated.
So I decided to quit trying to write, and just play. I had just
gotten Velvet. I pulled that out with a cool drum loop in Stylus,
and then, one of my favorite songs ever popped out. So you have
to search for it a little bit.
These kinds of things are like a master class — lessons
for the next generation of artists coming
up, in this age of immediate gratification,
where everybody wants
everything now. But success doesn’t
happen immediately. It happens when
you’re honing your craft, working tirelessly,
day in and day out.
Yeah, you know, since I became a “famous
songwriter,” I work harder, not less hard. A
lot of people I know go totally to the other
side of this life, and get into all the kind of
stuff that came with the success. They
lose focus, hanging out every night with a
bunch of sycophants at some big party in
L.A. or somewhere.
I spend the majority of my time with my
wife, our dogs, and a few close friends up
here. I have friends who work for banks
and in advertising, and I’m the guy who
writes songs. I’ll wake up in the morning
and have some coffee. I’ll answer some
emails, and I’ll go downstairs and do
some writing. Because that’s my job. I
can’t remember the last time I had a 40-hour work week —because I work 18
hours a day.
There’s a book out by Malcolm Gladwell
called Outliers. In it, he says the difference
between you and somebody doing what
they want to do is 10,000 hours — that if
you want to be in the league of the best,
you have to spend 10,000 hours, at least,
of your life dedicated solely to that thing
that you want to do. So that’s why I’m all
about putting my 10,000 Gladwell hours in.
If you could reduce your process or
mantra into a few sentences, what
would your advice be to someone
coming up now?
Every time you write a song, that’s the only
song you’re working on. That’s the only
song that exists. Stay in the place where
you care about what you’re writing, where
the only thing that matters is that “I’m
gonna write this song, and I want to feel
something.”
So, don’t be afraid to throw things
away. . . .
Yeah. Don’t be afraid to suck, you know?
Dare to suck. That changes everything.
THOMAS GUIDE
Webpage: robthomasmusic.com and myspace.com/robthomas
Albums recorded as a leader: Cradlesong (Atlantic) and Something To Be
(Melisma/Atlantic).
Selected recordings as lead singer for Matchbox Twenty: Exile on Mainstream
(Atlantic), More Than You Think You Are (Atlantic), Mad Season (Atlantic), and
Yourself or Someone Like You (Atlantic).
Selected studio instruments: Yamaha YDP223 (for tour use as well), Wurlitzer 206
Student Electric Piano, Gibson and Epiphone guitars, Fender electric guitars and basses,
Fender Deluxe reverb amp, Roland V-Drums, Casiotone MT-68.
Grammy-winning collaboration with Santana: “Smooth” off of Santana’s
Supernatural (Arista).
Want to learn how to play Rob’s new single, “Her Diamonds”? Flip to page
34 for Michael Gallant’s beginner lesson.
The Keys To
“Her Diamonds”
Rob’s new single, “Her Diamonds,”
makes great use of keyboard
elements — a central toy piano sound
and powerful synth stabs, for example.
How did Rob get those tones?
“The toy piano is literally a toy piano
from Korea, sampled in TASCAM
GigaStudio, and processed through
Emblem Music Group’s echo chamber
and a Roland RE-201 Space
Echo,” he reveals. “The synth stabs
are [producer Matt Serletic] singing
through a Roland V-Synth vocoder,
blended with a Dave Smith
Instruments Poly Evolver.”
Want to learn to play the chords
and groove for “Her Diamonds”? Flip
to page 34 for our exclusive lesson.
And to see exclusive video of Rob
talking and making music, check out
Jon Regen’s continued interview on
keyboardmag.com.