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Matt Sigley has never done a decent day's work in his life, and it is unlikely that he ever will. So states the entire biography of this young Melbourne poptician, in, er, support of this magical eponymous mini-album. Whatever we may think of such sentiments, it is clear that he has done at least one day's grafting, in order to assemble the fine Elliott Smith-flavoured pop glory displayed here. From the blocks, with the joyous harpsichord motif pulling along I Should Have Trusted The Sun, it is obvious that Sigley knows what he's doing, amplified by the fact that he plays all but drums throughout this release. It all sounds effortless, so perhaps that's the point of the self-effacement? Anyway, The Inner Me is another minor classic, taking the baton from the opener; Meaner is exactly that â?? downbeat and brooding with insistent synth squeaks, and closer Pear Shaped is a piano-powered '80's-tinted killer. Despite the sheen and instantly memorable hooks, vulnerable and fearful characters dwell within, as Sigley tackles inner demons and self-loathing. "The inner me is the enemy / the inner me is the end of me," he explains, and even deals with the paranoia of imposition on Other People's Lives â?? lyrical invention indeed, however miserable. Stylistically, Sigley has a little to do to avoid the lazy comparisons that music writers need as pointers, but it seems that this current climate dictates that there is no harm to be done in having your sound compared to Elliott Smith, as Howie Beck would no doubt attest.

Tom Sheriff
CWAS #9 - Winter 2002

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