Matsuo grew up in Tokyo, and came to The Rolling Stones in a somewhat surprising manner, first seeing the Stones’ dubious comeback single One Hit To The Body on a music television show in the 1980s. Thankfully, Matsuo realised there was more to the Stones than Mick Jagger’s mid-‘80s fashion travesty of pastel shirts and pop star mullet. “I had no interest in any music till I saw a video that The Stones played One Hit to the Body in my friend’s house,” Matsuo says. “I was eighteen years old, and I still love them still now. I also loved roots old black music, Blues, R&B and something like that. My taste was too old, and too hard to share with anyone at that time, except Matta, Moostop and few other friends.”
Matsuo had known Moostop through a friend with whom Matsuo had played previously. “I liked Moostop becouse we both loved The Rolling Stones, although it wasn’t the normal Rollng Stones’ that the fans fan liked,” Matsuo says. “We loved songs like Jigsaw Puzzle, Can You Hear Me Knockin’ and Fingerprint File. Matsuo, Moostop and the Zoobombs’ original drummer convened in a Tokyo pub, Nishiogikubo, when Matsuo laid out his original plan. “I suddenly decided to make a rock band with these three guys.” Right at the start, Matsuo stipulated that he’d be the creative and executive hub of the band. “We have got to be a rock band, but I’m the boss,” Matsuo says. “I said ‘I don’t embrace democracy. If you guys understand that, let’s do it’, and they said ‘OK’.”
At the time Matsuo was living with Matta, later to become Matsuo’s wife. Matsuo knew Matta could play piano, but hadn’t initially contemplated her joining The Zoobombs. When Matsuo placed an ad on the fridge in their apartment, Matta applied for the position. “I lived with her, and I know she can play piano, and we had a keyboard, so why did I need to look for another keyboard player? I just wanted to start the band as soon as possible,” Matsuo says.
With each of Matsuo’s previous bands had lasted “in less than 180 days”, and Moostop’s pedigree limited to a Madonna copy band, the tenure of The Zoobombs seemed unpredictable at best. 18 years later, and The Zoobombs are still going strong. Matsuo might have dictatorial tendencies, but he’s a benevolent dictator. “I think I do make most of the decisions, but I’m always thinking what other members think about. So I need these guys.”
Matsuo claims that “he doesn’t write songs” in the traditional sense. For Matsuo, the composition process is far more intuitive, and maybe even holistic. “It’s always coming or always there,” Matsuo muses. “I just catch and follow as the music wants to go. If the music wants to change the chord, I will change. If the music wants to change rhythm or tempo, I follow. And after that, we find that we have a song that we can play.”
For his styling as a frontman, Matsuo looked to the inimitable Keith Richards (though Matsuo’s excited stage persona seems a sharp contrast to the typically enigmatic Richards). A Zoobombs show is an exercise in improvisation, with the concept of a pre-prepared setlist anathema to Matsuo’s organic artistic philosophy. “I haven’t written a setlist since about 2002,” Matsuo says. “It’s very usual thing for us now not to have a setlist. “I don’t decide about what the music want to go. Let the music flow what the music want to do.”
The Zoobombs last toured Australia around the turn of the century. Matsuo’s memories of the tour are positive, albeit hazy, focused more on a culinary than musical experience. “I can’t remember too much,” Matsuo says. “I think it must be better now. But to tell you the truth, I remember on the road, I got some really good donuts called ‘Hole in One’ donuts. I hope I can get them again.
Last year Pablo from Melbourne-via-Mexico garage band Mesa Cosa contaced Matsuo, and suggested Zoobombs return to Australia. “I like [Pablo] and trust him, too,” Matsuo says. “I thank them for leading us back to Australia.” The Zoobombs continue to blend the members’ love of The Rolling Stones, Bo Diddley and Bob Dylan, infused with a dirty ‘70s funk sensibility. Cutting through the various musical influences, Matsuo says there’s a simple description for The Zoobombs’ shtick. “Rock music, possible touching your heart,” he says.
BY PATRICK EMERY
