Aux.78

By Everett Saucedo
In Aux 78's last release, "The Mystery 909," Aux 78 (aka local artist Nicholas Matta) created forlorn shrouds of sound and mood driven to a large degree by traditional instruments, and in doing so painted aural portraits of distant landscapes blasted by the ravages of war and storms. The effect was a largely instrumental work that was stunning in the way that an angry sea at high tide or a thermonuclear detonation is stunning.
"Litter," Aux 78's latest release, is not "Mystery."
With "Litter", Matta takes the listener down a radically different path, where the guitar has been eschewed in favor of the keyboard and computer. "Litter" is heavy on the electronica, and the themes are angry and political. "Litter" is a hard, dark welcome to Matta's brave new world, where the ethos of the current Bush administration seemingly collide with the sound and vision of Ridley Scott's "Blade Runner," a world where Rick Deckard now works for the Department of Homeland Security.
With a computerized sound driven by pulsing, techno/industrial beats, it is easy to picture oneself on the set of "Blade Runner" or any other dystopian sci-fi film. There are also more spoken lyrics incorporated into the music, though most which is said is fed through a synthesizer and stripped of its organic roots, and in the end becomes another component of the machine. This removal of the human element may be the central theme of "Litter", but it is also what keeps an OK album from being a great album.
First track "Welcoming Papa's Gag" begins with simple percussion beats that sound more like the clacking of fingers on a computer keyboard before the voice-over begins. Soon, the lyrics drive the beat more than the percussion, and set the tempo for the rest of the song. "Welcoming" starts out as something very akin to early '90s industrial music, but suffers from its long, drawn-out ending that never seems to end.
"Man Whore," the second track, is much more fun, and picks up speed immediately. This one could easily have been the most danceable song on the album before it too falls prey to a muddled ending, liberally sprinkled with the contents of a computer composer's bag of tricks.
In fact, most of "Litter" feels less like a cohesive album than an experimental work. "Mystery's" success came from Matta's ability to sculpt a world of dark skies, but one that nonetheless retained its humanity, complete with the entire range of emotion that the human creature possesses. "Litter" is the embodiment of the machine, full of loud, angry synth sounds that jump out of nowhere and then depart just as suddenly, droning loops of static and engine roars, and artfully inarticulate political context. There is an acoustic tune thrown in (track 6, Bling Sting), but its overt anger neutralizes whatever sunshine may be found in its folky strumming.
The end result of all this grinding of gears and circuit boards is an album with a tech-noirish but disjointed and paranoid feel. "Litter" may not stand on par with Matta's other work, but is definitely proof of his ability to manipulate sound to produce mood, and even scare the listener a bit when necessary
- El Paso Times

Imagine walking the streets of NYC and you're a Dick; a Private Dick. Steam fills the streets and danger lurks around every corner, but ultimately we know our man will solve the crime and bag the dame.
That's the impression I get from "On the Other Hand," the opening track of "Passing By" by El Paso's one-man-band, Nicholas Matta, performing as Aux.78. "On the Other Hand" evokes seventies sonic experimentation with a groove and auto-wah.
[It's always interesting to ponder what's going through a composer's head when he names an instrumental. The narrator in the original Fantasia always freaked me out when he was talking about how this composition tells a story and that composition is music for music's sake. All music conveys mood, emotion, action, perhaps ultimately the human spirit. I suppose for the composer it's a matter of intent, but for the listener, what's in a name?]
"Passing By" is an epic collection of predominately instrumental explorations of style and sound. Matta will often lay down a beat and build upon it with a number of interesting guitar and synthesizer sounds - both traditional and new - that keeps the listener intrigued. While more ethereal than exhilarating, this is a well done, thoughtful effort.
"Everything for Sale" is "The Song Remains the Same" meets "Live and Let Die." "Light Refracting Time" has a rocking Indian-fused-with-progressive feel and is a highlight. "Thanks Eek," presumably referring to Eek-a-Mouse, is a reggae/ska tribute. [Check out the Skatalites some time, one of the few bands that makes cornball cool.] I dig the "Pro-cras-ti-nAAA-tion" vibe of "Delays and Evacuations."
Matta has the potential to make waves as a composer and "Passing By" is an intriguing set. He has a great command of a number of instruments - he doesn't overplay the drums for the most part, and throws in cool little bits like the sax tones on the opening track. But I'd like to see him flesh out his tunes a bit more. There could be more variation on his themes. Instrumentals can suffer with repetition where traditional songs can get away with it as people tend to listen to the singing. And I may be missing the boat here, but for my taste, some of the tunes could use a bit more heft in the heavier passages to give it more dynamic range.
One thing's for certain, I'll never be able to walk the streets of New York without humming the bass and sax lines to "On the Other Hand" again.
--The Grouch : - elpasomusicscene.com

Imagine walking the streets of NYC and you're a Dick; a Private Dick. Steam fills the streets and danger lurks around every corner, but ultimately we know our man will solve the crime and bag the dame.
That's the impression I get from "On the Other Hand," the opening track of "Passing By" by El Paso's one-man-band, Nicholas Matta, performing as Aux.78. "On the Other Hand" evokes seventies sonic experimentation with a groove and auto-wah.
[It's always interesting to ponder what's going through a composer's head when he names an instrumental. The narrator in the original Fantasia always freaked me out when he was talking about how this composition tells a story and that composition is music for music's sake. All music conveys mood, emotion, action, perhaps ultimately the human spirit. I suppose for the composer it's a matter of intent, but for the listener, what's in a name?]
"Passing By" is an epic collection of predominately instrumental explorations of style and sound. Matta will often lay down a beat and build upon it with a number of interesting guitar and synthesizer sounds - both traditional and new - that keeps the listener intrigued. While more ethereal than exhilarating, this is a well done, thoughtful effort.
"Everything for Sale" is "The Song Remains the Same" meets "Live and Let Die." "Light Refracting Time" has a rocking Indian-fused-with-progressive feel and is a highlight. "Thanks Eek," presumably referring to Eek-a-Mouse, is a reggae/ska tribute. [Check out the Skatalites some time, one of the few bands that makes cornball cool.] I dig the "Pro-cras-ti-nAAA-tion" vibe of "Delays and Evacuations."
Matta has the potential to make waves as a composer and "Passing By" is an intriguing set. He has a great command of a number of instruments - he doesn't overplay the drums for the most part, and throws in cool little bits like the sax tones on the opening track. But I'd like to see him flesh out his tunes a bit more. There could be more variation on his themes. Instrumentals can suffer with repetition where traditional songs can get away with it as people tend to listen to the singing. And I may be missing the boat here, but for my taste, some of the tunes could use a bit more heft in the heavier passages to give it more dynamic range.
One thing's for certain, I'll never be able to walk the streets of New York without humming the bass and sax lines to "On the Other Hand" again.
--The Grouch : - elpasomusicscene.com

War is hell. But the sounds it makes can be pretty cool. "The Nerve," the first track off "The Mystery 909" by Aux 78, introduces itself with the rumblings of artillery exploding beyond the horizon. After the shelling ends, "The Nerve" pops itself into focus with a drum and bass riff a-la Nancy Sinatra that snaps along at a drill instructor's cadence beat.
War, rest, more war, chaos and eventually, peace; in one song, Aux 78, the solo project of local musician Nicholas Matta, proves that music can speak volumes without saying a word.
Going on his seventh year as Aux 78, Matta (who also performs in local band The Sea Legs) and "Mystery" will probably please fans of such instrumental-heavy bands such as Man ... Or Astroman?, Shadowy Men On a Shadowy Plant, and Southern Culture On The Skids. Genre fans, however, may not, as "Mystery" refuses to be pigeonholed into any one category.
A careful listener can pick out jazzy percussion beats, country steel guitars, surf rock and musical influences ranging from The Ventures to Angelo Badalamenti to The White Stripes, but these are merely ingredients to the mélange and not the final product. Matta's ability to play instruments ranging from percussion toys to accordions shows, as he is single-handedly responsible for all the sounds heard on "Mystery."
This includes everything from guitars that ring like tubular bells guitars to art-house chic voiceovers that don't say much and are merely window-dressing for the music itself. The end result is music that can convey an amazing range of emotions and images, if the listener is willing to play along.
If "The Nerve" has you dodging AK-47 fire and R & R'ing in Thailand, the self-titled third track sucks you back to mysteries and horrors on the mainland, with a slow and deliberate rhythm riff overlain by a softly wailing guitar.
Also noteworthy is "Guns That Smoke," which takes a needed somber turn. It is a soft, melancholy tune which opens with the sounds of machines grinding against one another but shortly thereafter gives way to a simple four-beat drone as heavy as it is beautiful. It is also a great example of Matta's ability to infuse his music with emotion; if you were ducking cannonballs earlier, you are now picking up the pieces of your home in the aftermath of a hurricane.
One of the best surprises of "Mystery" is "Broken Bones," the only vocal song and Matta's stab at making a country song. "Broken Bones" overshoots the line-dancing country of Garth Brooks or Tim McGraw and squarely hits the drunk-mean and sad honkey-tonk that Hank Williams Sr. and Jim Ed Brown's row of fools on a row of stools inhabit. The lyrics of "Broken Bones' may not sound overtly country, but there's no doubt its soul is.
"Mystery" ends on a kitchy accordion-driven tune that seems pulled from the closet of French junk culture. It's actually a happy little song that's cute on its own but seems out of step with the rest of the album.
Either way, "Mystery" is a stellar example of Matta's abilities both as musician and communicator. The album, unfortunately, is not readily available, but is worth the effort to look for it.
- El Paso Times

War is hell. But the sounds it makes can be pretty cool. "The Nerve," the first track off "The Mystery 909" by Aux 78, introduces itself with the rumblings of artillery exploding beyond the horizon. After the shelling ends, "The Nerve" pops itself into focus with a drum and bass riff a-la Nancy Sinatra that snaps along at a drill instructor's cadence beat.
War, rest, more war, chaos and eventually, peace; in one song, Aux 78, the solo project of local musician Nicholas Matta, proves that music can speak volumes without saying a word.
Going on his seventh year as Aux 78, Matta (who also performs in local band The Sea Legs) and "Mystery" will probably please fans of such instrumental-heavy bands such as Man ... Or Astroman?, Shadowy Men On a Shadowy Plant, and Southern Culture On The Skids. Genre fans, however, may not, as "Mystery" refuses to be pigeonholed into any one category.
A careful listener can pick out jazzy percussion beats, country steel guitars, surf rock and musical influences ranging from The Ventures to Angelo Badalamenti to The White Stripes, but these are merely ingredients to the mélange and not the final product. Matta's ability to play instruments ranging from percussion toys to accordions shows, as he is single-handedly responsible for all the sounds heard on "Mystery."
This includes everything from guitars that ring like tubular bells guitars to art-house chic voiceovers that don't say much and are merely window-dressing for the music itself. The end result is music that can convey an amazing range of emotions and images, if the listener is willing to play along.
If "The Nerve" has you dodging AK-47 fire and R & R'ing in Thailand, the self-titled third track sucks you back to mysteries and horrors on the mainland, with a slow and deliberate rhythm riff overlain by a softly wailing guitar.
Also noteworthy is "Guns That Smoke," which takes a needed somber turn. It is a soft, melancholy tune which opens with the sounds of machines grinding against one another but shortly thereafter gives way to a simple four-beat drone as heavy as it is beautiful. It is also a great example of Matta's ability to infuse his music with emotion; if you were ducking cannonballs earlier, you are now picking up the pieces of your home in the aftermath of a hurricane.
One of the best surprises of "Mystery" is "Broken Bones," the only vocal song and Matta's stab at making a country song. "Broken Bones" overshoots the line-dancing country of Garth Brooks or Tim McGraw and squarely hits the drunk-mean and sad honkey-tonk that Hank Williams Sr. and Jim Ed Brown's row of fools on a row of stools inhabit. The lyrics of "Broken Bones' may not sound overtly country, but there's no doubt its soul is.
"Mystery" ends on a kitchy accordion-driven tune that seems pulled from the closet of French junk culture. It's actually a happy little song that's cute on its own but seems out of step with the rest of the album.
Either way, "Mystery" is a stellar example of Matta's abilities both as musician and communicator. The album, unfortunately, is not readily available, but is worth the effort to look for it.
- El Paso Times

Released: November 8, 2008

Aux. 78 is equal parts soundtrack composer, country guitar strummer, new age guru, and techno DJ. A Worn Ballad is a solid collection of ambient soundscapes, sparse strings and vocals (there’s some drums in there, too, on “Concrete”), and futuristic effects that doesn’t lose focus.

“Live Onto Life,” one of the two more traditional tracks, could easily set the tone for a western saloon shootout scene. The other, “Guns That Smoke,” is a stirring soliloquy that explores the darker side of life. “Hollowed Out” is reminiscent of an Alfred Hitchcock film. I can see someone on a motorcycle; after riding for awhile he gets off and starts following a perfect stranger on foot. It’s late, dark, and wet from a hard rain that has just settled. When they round the concrete corner of the sidewalk…something ominous will go down. “Tomorrows Fade To Today’s Light,” the longest track at 10:40, plays like the sountrack to a 1950s flying saucer B movie (to my imagination, anyway).

Experimental, yes, but with pleasing sounds that leave you with a familiar feel-good feeling at the end of the listening experience. It’s like leaving a movie (Yes, folks!) that made you laugh and cry with a little comedy, drama, and some action and suspense thrown in with a lot of heart; all in equal measure. ??

Standout Track: “Guns That Smoke”
Check Out: “The Passing,” “Wood,” and “Hollowed Out”
- Popolio.com

Released: November 8, 2008

Aux. 78 is equal parts soundtrack composer, country guitar strummer, new age guru, and techno DJ. A Worn Ballad is a solid collection of ambient soundscapes, sparse strings and vocals (there’s some drums in there, too, on “Concrete”), and futuristic effects that doesn’t lose focus.

“Live Onto Life,” one of the two more traditional tracks, could easily set the tone for a western saloon shootout scene. The other, “Guns That Smoke,” is a stirring soliloquy that explores the darker side of life. “Hollowed Out” is reminiscent of an Alfred Hitchcock film. I can see someone on a motorcycle; after riding for awhile he gets off and starts following a perfect stranger on foot. It’s late, dark, and wet from a hard rain that has just settled. When they round the concrete corner of the sidewalk…something ominous will go down. “Tomorrows Fade To Today’s Light,” the longest track at 10:40, plays like the sountrack to a 1950s flying saucer B movie (to my imagination, anyway).

Experimental, yes, but with pleasing sounds that leave you with a familiar feel-good feeling at the end of the listening experience. It’s like leaving a movie (Yes, folks!) that made you laugh and cry with a little comedy, drama, and some action and suspense thrown in with a lot of heart; all in equal measure. ??

Standout Track: “Guns That Smoke”
Check Out: “The Passing,” “Wood,” and “Hollowed Out”
- Popolio.com

Crystal Robert / Special to the Times

Aux. 78 also known as Nicholas Matta is one of the most determined musicians I have ever met in El Paso. "I can't pinpoint the date I first met Nick, Nico, etc. but I do recall it had something to do with booking his act at one of the many illustrious local venues that I gracefully allowed to suck my life's blood." (It's hard to keep you entertained El Paso, but I wouldn't give it up for anything in the world!) I will admit that I didn't book Nick and his various acts, My Trembling Sea Legs, Electrolegs, etc, as often as I should've. "I will also admit that I didn't exactly 'get it' at the time." But thankfully, time allows us so many things. Nick's latest effort, "A Worn Ballad", is the heart-wrenchingly autobiographical. Originally available online earlier in the year," I remember listening to the album when the air was still cold and being unable to find any warmth and solace in the sounds. The songs on this release, please without becoming overbearing." "They fill the listener with confusion, pain, and heartache, only to leave both mind and body empty when done." I hope it will give you as much pleasure and pain as it gave me." Find out for yourself at aux78.band camp.com. Nick has also been known to work on various theatre productions, producing the accompanying music for plays like "In the Boom Boom Room". If I may be bold enough to suggest, Nick may be El Paso's own Danny Elfman. - El Paso Times

Crystal Robert / Special to the Times

Aux. 78 also known as Nicholas Matta is one of the most determined musicians I have ever met in El Paso. "I can't pinpoint the date I first met Nick, Nico, etc. but I do recall it had something to do with booking his act at one of the many illustrious local venues that I gracefully allowed to suck my life's blood." (It's hard to keep you entertained El Paso, but I wouldn't give it up for anything in the world!) I will admit that I didn't book Nick and his various acts, My Trembling Sea Legs, Electrolegs, etc, as often as I should've. "I will also admit that I didn't exactly 'get it' at the time." But thankfully, time allows us so many things. Nick's latest effort, "A Worn Ballad", is the heart-wrenchingly autobiographical. Originally available online earlier in the year," I remember listening to the album when the air was still cold and being unable to find any warmth and solace in the sounds. The songs on this release, please without becoming overbearing." "They fill the listener with confusion, pain, and heartache, only to leave both mind and body empty when done." I hope it will give you as much pleasure and pain as it gave me." Find out for yourself at aux78.band camp.com. Nick has also been known to work on various theatre productions, producing the accompanying music for plays like "In the Boom Boom Room". If I may be bold enough to suggest, Nick may be El Paso's own Danny Elfman. - El Paso Times

BECAUSE EVERYBODY KNOWS AND NO ONE IS HERE: a conversation with Aux 78’s Nick Matta

by
mari gomez

The door suddenly opened after I stood outside for a few minutes contemplating the sounds of the wind and the rattling aluminum cans that rolled by like tumbleweeds. My fingers were hot from holding the cheese pizza I agreed to bring, and I grinned at Nick who was now at the door gesturing me in.

We sat down in his music room, eagerly opening the Little Ceaser’s grease stained box. As we ate, we chit chatted here and there. There was a drum set, a keyboard, computer, and other electronic things I don’t understand. In a little piece of paper, push pinned to the wall, handwritten, was a note that read: THE TIME IS NOW.

Nick Matta, otherwise known as the AUX 78, a local musician and performer, has been involved with the El Paso music scene for many years through such projects as My Trembling Sea Legs, The Electrolegs, and Box of Bugs. He makes quite an impression: the serious jaw line, the intimidating smirk, the slightly awkward hunched walk, which suggests a kind of vulnerability and intelligence that is both humble and unforgiving. A friend of mine always called Nick, “The Robert Fripp of El Paso.”

Nick’s artistic trajectory is not clear cut. Each individual album is an exploration of something different, all of them contain what seems to be an eerie aspect of Nick’s personality, deep, wide open and unafraid, while intrinsically connected to this mysterious aura the guy carries around, this wickedness and gentility of his soul.
After several conversations with Nick, and several times of checking out the websites, seeing how prolific he was, (http://aux78.bandcamp.com) watching him perform, I wanted to attempt to understand and share the struggle of this single artist in El Paso, someone working off of his musical ‘hallucinations,’ (as he phrases it) for fifteen years, between jobs, scrambling for money, yet never failing to create, to construct his bizarre and inspired musical sculptures in what he calls his “concrete carton of sound.” In other words: his studio.

In the last few years, the El Paso music scene has developed, grown, and established somewhat of an aesthetic. Growing pools of talented musicians are sprouting; local bands are becoming beloved household names and important assets to the hip college student weekend activities. Nevertheless the struggles of such paths are not easy and the challenges of it are often disheartening.

We’ve all heard the local band The Lusitania and been impressed by their free flowing, well rehearsed, eager to rock attitude, wishing every time, towards the end of the night, a few beers in, that they end with their raspy edgy cover of “Wagon Wheel.” Perhaps we’ve been perplexed by Cigarettes after Sex and their quirky, poppy, sound, Mexicans at Night and their bass driven, groovy jams, and on and on.


For someone like Nick, however, a solo artist, whose more avant garde sensibility requires a little bit of work and a little bit of trust from the listener, the prospect of, “finding ears,” as he puts it, is often more difficult.

“I like working alone,” he says firmly, “there’s more creative freedom that way.”

Nicks performances are not aimed towards pleasing an audience, or being liked, or ‘rocking out,’ but rather, toying with characters, ideas, and a mysteriously elusive candor. Most recently, it seems to be about experimenting with social realism; thus, always giving a relentless and honest reaction to the world and the dichotomy created when it meets the existential self.

“I really don’t have a care for my audience,” he says, slightly grinning, “if they like it, they like it; it’s more about me writing my journal entry.”

That is not to say then that Nicks work is self absorbed, nor that it is limited to his own emotions because he talked about his enjoyment in playing characters, in writing in someone else’s voice, in depicting the social issues that matter and should be discussed. He simply does not aim anything at anyone, but plays and writes until he feels he has given light to whatever that stirring thing inside him is.

He does however carefully gauge and respect his audiences and is often confounded by the unexpected reception of some of his songs. “On a Sunday seems to be a crowd favorite, but I don’t know why, I’ve introduced the song by saying: this is about one of your close relatives, or you…maybe it gets that guilty nervous laughter out of people.”
Nick and I spoke about his recent radio interview with Ruben Zavala on the local A.M station 1150. He played the song, “On a Sunday,” an ardent ballad with a playful attitude and yodeling Dylanesque vocals. The tune is about hypocrisy and lack of character often displayed by folks who hide behind the mask of religion, though religion can be symbolic for whatever people hide behind, business suits, aprons, diplomas.

“You just hear about that all the time, you see people t - EP Culture Beat

BECAUSE EVERYBODY KNOWS AND NO ONE IS HERE: a conversation with Aux 78’s Nick Matta

by
mari gomez

The door suddenly opened after I stood outside for a few minutes contemplating the sounds of the wind and the rattling aluminum cans that rolled by like tumbleweeds. My fingers were hot from holding the cheese pizza I agreed to bring, and I grinned at Nick who was now at the door gesturing me in.

We sat down in his music room, eagerly opening the Little Ceaser’s grease stained box. As we ate, we chit chatted here and there. There was a drum set, a keyboard, computer, and other electronic things I don’t understand. In a little piece of paper, push pinned to the wall, handwritten, was a note that read: THE TIME IS NOW.

Nick Matta, otherwise known as the AUX 78, a local musician and performer, has been involved with the El Paso music scene for many years through such projects as My Trembling Sea Legs, The Electrolegs, and Box of Bugs. He makes quite an impression: the serious jaw line, the intimidating smirk, the slightly awkward hunched walk, which suggests a kind of vulnerability and intelligence that is both humble and unforgiving. A friend of mine always called Nick, “The Robert Fripp of El Paso.”

Nick’s artistic trajectory is not clear cut. Each individual album is an exploration of something different, all of them contain what seems to be an eerie aspect of Nick’s personality, deep, wide open and unafraid, while intrinsically connected to this mysterious aura the guy carries around, this wickedness and gentility of his soul.
After several conversations with Nick, and several times of checking out the websites, seeing how prolific he was, (http://aux78.bandcamp.com) watching him perform, I wanted to attempt to understand and share the struggle of this single artist in El Paso, someone working off of his musical ‘hallucinations,’ (as he phrases it) for fifteen years, between jobs, scrambling for money, yet never failing to create, to construct his bizarre and inspired musical sculptures in what he calls his “concrete carton of sound.” In other words: his studio.

In the last few years, the El Paso music scene has developed, grown, and established somewhat of an aesthetic. Growing pools of talented musicians are sprouting; local bands are becoming beloved household names and important assets to the hip college student weekend activities. Nevertheless the struggles of such paths are not easy and the challenges of it are often disheartening.

We’ve all heard the local band The Lusitania and been impressed by their free flowing, well rehearsed, eager to rock attitude, wishing every time, towards the end of the night, a few beers in, that they end with their raspy edgy cover of “Wagon Wheel.” Perhaps we’ve been perplexed by Cigarettes after Sex and their quirky, poppy, sound, Mexicans at Night and their bass driven, groovy jams, and on and on.


For someone like Nick, however, a solo artist, whose more avant garde sensibility requires a little bit of work and a little bit of trust from the listener, the prospect of, “finding ears,” as he puts it, is often more difficult.

“I like working alone,” he says firmly, “there’s more creative freedom that way.”

Nicks performances are not aimed towards pleasing an audience, or being liked, or ‘rocking out,’ but rather, toying with characters, ideas, and a mysteriously elusive candor. Most recently, it seems to be about experimenting with social realism; thus, always giving a relentless and honest reaction to the world and the dichotomy created when it meets the existential self.

“I really don’t have a care for my audience,” he says, slightly grinning, “if they like it, they like it; it’s more about me writing my journal entry.”

That is not to say then that Nicks work is self absorbed, nor that it is limited to his own emotions because he talked about his enjoyment in playing characters, in writing in someone else’s voice, in depicting the social issues that matter and should be discussed. He simply does not aim anything at anyone, but plays and writes until he feels he has given light to whatever that stirring thing inside him is.

He does however carefully gauge and respect his audiences and is often confounded by the unexpected reception of some of his songs. “On a Sunday seems to be a crowd favorite, but I don’t know why, I’ve introduced the song by saying: this is about one of your close relatives, or you…maybe it gets that guilty nervous laughter out of people.”
Nick and I spoke about his recent radio interview with Ruben Zavala on the local A.M station 1150. He played the song, “On a Sunday,” an ardent ballad with a playful attitude and yodeling Dylanesque vocals. The tune is about hypocrisy and lack of character often displayed by folks who hide behind the mask of religion, though religion can be symbolic for whatever people hide behind, business suits, aprons, diplomas.

“You just hear about that all the time, you see people t - EP Culture Beat

By Everett Saucedo
Special to the Times
Aux.78, the solo project of local artist Nicholas Matta, has an unmistakable retro bent in "Passing By," his / its latest effort. Previous works have referenced '60s-style pop and honky-tonk style country, before both genres fell on hard times. "Passing By" is a return to that sound and is evidence of Matta's mastery at combining modern technology with wordless emotion."
Matta's musical stylings defy easy definitions, much less categorizations. Not quite electronica, not quite trance, and not quite rock, Matta pulls at least a dozen different musical genres out of a hat and manages to splice them together, most successfully, some less so.
Although the influences and loops differ considerably from track to track, Matta's one consistency is in Aux.78's structure, which takes a page from the golden age of jazz; like many an endless improv jam session, Aux.78's songs flow seamlessly into one another, some of which wander without without stopping, some without lyrical context, and all without the three-verse stanzas and a chorus structure of modern American pop.
Although jazzy drumbeats and the occasional saxophone do pop in on occasion, most resemblance to jazz ends here. While Aux.78 was made to be listened to while sitting and relaxing, don't expect too many blue notes to waft through. "Passing By "derives most of its heritage from the angrier components of the '60s and post-Altamont '70s; expect less Miles Davis and more Jimi Hendrix.
The first track ("On The Other Hand") is an excellent example of what Aux.78 is. Silken jazz drumbeats collide with a wailing guitar and generous amounts of feedback; the end result is a drawn-out, hypnotic pool of sound swimming with reverb.
The second track ("Crawls of Aversion") is one of the few tunes on the album with lyrics. As can be expected when a work owes heavily to the psychedelic '60s, the words here are nonsensical, and quickly give way to driving, paranoid drumbeats.
Track three ("The Litter Trail") is perhaps the most evocative of the album a whole and moves along at a steady clip, more foreboding than menacing, relying on deep rumblings and the sounds of dying airplanes falling out of the sky to set the mood.
For the most part "Passing By's" bark is worse than its bite; tracks five ("Everything For Sale") and six ("Recycle"), however, carry out and make good on the many threats; "Everything For Sale's" pre-heavy-metal guitars and drums scream and collide like angry moths in a jar.
Track six's name is especially appropriate, as it features a heavy-handed fuzzy axe that sounds like it was lifted right out of the chase scene of a late night horror movie. "Passing By" closes on a rather atypical note ("Trim The Prison Down"), which leaves behind a lot of the heavy influences for something more hollow-sounding and timeless.
Although a bit long at times, "Passing By" nonetheless works in its sweeping ability to carve out mood and emotion from raw sound. What it may lack in brevity is made up in a reverent-yet-independently creative use of other musical influences - El Paso Times

By Everett Saucedo
Special to the Times
Aux.78, the solo project of local artist Nicholas Matta, has an unmistakable retro bent in "Passing By," his / its latest effort. Previous works have referenced '60s-style pop and honky-tonk style country, before both genres fell on hard times. "Passing By" is a return to that sound and is evidence of Matta's mastery at combining modern technology with wordless emotion."
Matta's musical stylings defy easy definitions, much less categorizations. Not quite electronica, not quite trance, and not quite rock, Matta pulls at least a dozen different musical genres out of a hat and manages to splice them together, most successfully, some less so.
Although the influences and loops differ considerably from track to track, Matta's one consistency is in Aux.78's structure, which takes a page from the golden age of jazz; like many an endless improv jam session, Aux.78's songs flow seamlessly into one another, some of which wander without without stopping, some without lyrical context, and all without the three-verse stanzas and a chorus structure of modern American pop.
Although jazzy drumbeats and the occasional saxophone do pop in on occasion, most resemblance to jazz ends here. While Aux.78 was made to be listened to while sitting and relaxing, don't expect too many blue notes to waft through. "Passing By "derives most of its heritage from the angrier components of the '60s and post-Altamont '70s; expect less Miles Davis and more Jimi Hendrix.
The first track ("On The Other Hand") is an excellent example of what Aux.78 is. Silken jazz drumbeats collide with a wailing guitar and generous amounts of feedback; the end result is a drawn-out, hypnotic pool of sound swimming with reverb.
The second track ("Crawls of Aversion") is one of the few tunes on the album with lyrics. As can be expected when a work owes heavily to the psychedelic '60s, the words here are nonsensical, and quickly give way to driving, paranoid drumbeats.
Track three ("The Litter Trail") is perhaps the most evocative of the album a whole and moves along at a steady clip, more foreboding than menacing, relying on deep rumblings and the sounds of dying airplanes falling out of the sky to set the mood.
For the most part "Passing By's" bark is worse than its bite; tracks five ("Everything For Sale") and six ("Recycle"), however, carry out and make good on the many threats; "Everything For Sale's" pre-heavy-metal guitars and drums scream and collide like angry moths in a jar.
Track six's name is especially appropriate, as it features a heavy-handed fuzzy axe that sounds like it was lifted right out of the chase scene of a late night horror movie. "Passing By" closes on a rather atypical note ("Trim The Prison Down"), which leaves behind a lot of the heavy influences for something more hollow-sounding and timeless.
Although a bit long at times, "Passing By" nonetheless works in its sweeping ability to carve out mood and emotion from raw sound. What it may lack in brevity is made up in a reverent-yet-independently creative use of other musical influences - El Paso Times

By Everett Saucedo
In Aux 78's last release, "The Mystery 909," Aux 78 (aka local artist Nicholas Matta) created forlorn shrouds of sound and mood driven to a large degree by traditional instruments, and in doing so painted aural portraits of distant landscapes blasted by the ravages of war and storms. The effect was a largely instrumental work that was stunning in the way that an angry sea at high tide or a thermonuclear detonation is stunning.
"Litter," Aux 78's latest release, is not "Mystery."
With "Litter", Matta takes the listener down a radically different path, where the guitar has been eschewed in favor of the keyboard and computer. "Litter" is heavy on the electronica, and the themes are angry and political. "Litter" is a hard, dark welcome to Matta's brave new world, where the ethos of the current Bush administration seemingly collide with the sound and vision of Ridley Scott's "Blade Runner," a world where Rick Deckard now works for the Department of Homeland Security.
With a computerized sound driven by pulsing, techno/industrial beats, it is easy to picture oneself on the set of "Blade Runner" or any other dystopian sci-fi film. There are also more spoken lyrics incorporated into the music, though most which is said is fed through a synthesizer and stripped of its organic roots, and in the end becomes another component of the machine. This removal of the human element may be the central theme of "Litter", but it is also what keeps an OK album from being a great album.
First track "Welcoming Papa's Gag" begins with simple percussion beats that sound more like the clacking of fingers on a computer keyboard before the voice-over begins. Soon, the lyrics drive the beat more than the percussion, and set the tempo for the rest of the song. "Welcoming" starts out as something very akin to early '90s industrial music, but suffers from its long, drawn-out ending that never seems to end.
"Man Whore," the second track, is much more fun, and picks up speed immediately. This one could easily have been the most danceable song on the album before it too falls prey to a muddled ending, liberally sprinkled with the contents of a computer composer's bag of tricks.
In fact, most of "Litter" feels less like a cohesive album than an experimental work. "Mystery's" success came from Matta's ability to sculpt a world of dark skies, but one that nonetheless retained its humanity, complete with the entire range of emotion that the human creature possesses. "Litter" is the embodiment of the machine, full of loud, angry synth sounds that jump out of nowhere and then depart just as suddenly, droning loops of static and engine roars, and artfully inarticulate political context. There is an acoustic tune thrown in (track 6, Bling Sting), but its overt anger neutralizes whatever sunshine may be found in its folky strumming.
The end result of all this grinding of gears and circuit boards is an album with a tech-noirish but disjointed and paranoid feel. "Litter" may not stand on par with Matta's other work, but is definitely proof of his ability to manipulate sound to produce mood, and even scare the listener a bit when necessary
- El Paso Times