Matthew Lebon

I couldn’t have been more than eight years old when I strolled home from elementary school to find my 13 year old brother sitting on the living room stairs. His head lay buried in his lap. I said “Hey Andy…Are you alright?” When he raised his head up his face was full of tears and he could barely talk. He just cracked a huge smile and said “Dad got us tickets to Les Miz tonight.” I gave him a hug and went to my room but was totally confused about what just happened. Was my big brother actually crying over going to a musical? I was shocked to say the least.
As my childhood went on, my family kept me very exposed to musical theater and I was perfectly content with that. But that all changed the day my Dad and I took a ride one Saturday afternoon. He popped in the Beach Boys song In My Room and I was absolutely floored. This song overtook me as if I was sitting in St. Peter’s Basilica listening to a million little angels. The reason for this was that at the time I was depressed about the fact that all my friends had already gone through puberty and I was stuck with a woman’s voice and height that didn’t even read 5 feet. But this song, this glorious song, pinpointed exactly what I was going through. I eventually got so passionate about any music that made a connection in my life that I picked up a guitar and started writing songs about how sad I was. That phase of my life was also accompanied by a love affair with the Emo band Dashboard Confessional. I was so passionate about that band because now that I’d finally gotten over my puberty problem I had the guts to talk to girls and later get my heart broken by them.
So at that point of my life I was at the end of my high school career and about to attend Indiana University. When I got there I soon realized that my friends didn’t want to hear sad songs, they wanted something to sing along to. And because I loved performing so much I did what I could to be in the limelight. As freshman year went by my obsession for music hit a whole new level with the addition of all these new “music friends.” We’d sit around sharing our iTunes libraries and talk about music’s incredible power. Those feelings about the power of music dawned on me in a big way when I was on a road trip with my parents and listened to the song Loud by Matt Nathanson. Shell shocked in the back seat, I closed my eyes while tears began to roll down my cheek. As I sat there fighting the tears that I hoped my dad wouldn’t see I remembered my brother sitting on our steps as a kid. I finally understood what it was to be so moved by music that there’s nothing left to do but cry. From that day on I decided it would be my mission to make a connection with people through my music, no matter how much work it took.
More recently in my life I’ve found a need to spread a message of equality through my songs, and that’s been the central theme of my music of the last year. As I finish up my college career I want nothing more than to spread that message of equality and all the others messages that have connected with me throughout my life.