The 1975: Introducing Band Members : Matt Healy

Friday, March 11, 2016

Introducing Band Members : Matt Healy

The Lead Singer

Matthew Timothy Healy is the singer for the British pop band The 1975. He was born on 8th April 1989 in London. He is the son of actors Denise Welch and Tim Healy. He was raised in Newscastle in Tyne and Wear before his parents moved to a small village outside of Macclesfield when he was 10 years old. He knows how to play the guitar and piano. Moreover, his vocals are also good. Matthew left school at 16 and worked in call centres and cafés and as he has cited on his Instagram account, "Delivering Chinese food". Meanwhile, his first job was "in a kitchen doing pots at a pub".

- SA

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One of the solid raw interviews :

This all came as the group were approaching the end of two years of solid touring in front of crowds that were growing ever bigger and ever more voracious. It was like, Healy says, being in a “really glamorous version ofDawn of the Dead. Instead of being followed by zombies, it was iPhone-clutching kids. There’d be 100 kids between the tour bus and the stage door, when I’m in my boxers with a hangover. So my first reaction with human beings is in a resentful, semi-clothed situation – ‘Matty! Matty! Matty!’ – and I’d be, ‘They don’t even care about the music! They’ve just got their phones out!’”

Healy found himself tumbling towards a crisis, which arrived on 6 December, onstage in Boston. “There was girl stuff,” he says. “There was family stuff. There was financial stuff. There was drug stuff. I remember hearing the crowd and having an identity crisis. I thought: ‘If you want to see a show, I’ll give you a fucking show. If you’ve come to see the jester drink himself into a slumber, I’ll give it to you.’ I felt like I’d become an idea as opposed to being a person.”

At one point, a fan shouted, “I love you, Matty!” He’s ashamed of his response. “What did I say to the poor fucking girl? ‘You don’t have the right to love me. You don’t know me. I love you but you don’t get to love me.’ Jesus. Can you imagine your favourite band shouting that at you? What a dickhead. What a horrible thing to say to a kid who fucking does love me.”

At the show’s end, Healy fell to the stage and refused to leave. “George carried me off, cos I would have stayed there, apparently. I just wanted to sit there and do something you don’t. It was so blurry and of such a particular colour: I remember everything as orangey yellow.”

The easy reaction to take – and one we see again and again when members of groups with startlingly passionate teenage followings hit a wall, as opposed to troubled stars with middle-aged male followings, like Wilco’s Jeff Tweedy – is to say: suck it up, pal. You’re in a band. People love you. You’re making money. Grow a pair.