The first time I saw Mat Riviere play was perched on the floor, keyboard precariously balanced on the seat of a wooden bench, in the garden of The Windmill in Brixton. It was part of an all-dayer, and the usual deal is that, for organisers, the venue will throw you a BBQ for the bargain price of £50, punters are told to eat as much as they like, or rather can. There are no food options except for a Sainsbury’s nearby and a few takeaways, and my lasting memories of that place are just images of bearded men shoving overly-caked veggie burgers into their mouths, too scared to leave incase they miss any of the 14-bands — presumedly the promoters idea of a fun day out.
Still to this day Mat Riviere opts for the floor over any raised surface. And still to this day the grill gets wheeled out, although only on special occasions.
In keeping with Mat’s minimalalist tendencies, Accident Book is a continuation of his sparse pop sound. A 6-song trip that fuses tidy, programmed beats a la Advance Base (fka Casiotine for Painfully Alone) and The Books, layered vocals effects, and even violin. Playing too are samples — as the muffled voice in clouds narrates, “here is a little song from me to you”. If there’s one song to hear, let it be exit scheme. Its delicate, quivering harmonies will give you quite a stir.
The album artwork is also something to marvel at – hand printed by the talented Katie Sheppard, you can buy it as a 15″ x 11″ poster to go on your wall.