So fucking vulnerable and frank she was, the bitch, the innocent, it aroused in me, like a piano string, willy-nilly, humming back to the tuning fork its A-440, an answering emotion. Which I duly quashed. Don't they know, goddammit, that they're supposed to suck it up and amble on? It's a man's world, haven't they heard? I don't like feeling.

Matthew feels that his style captures a depth not only of his persona, but portrays eras that have always captured his soul.

I lived in Hull . . . surrounded by people who in that time and place were considered the dregs of society: bikers, drug dealers, prostitutes, dykes, the terminally unemployed and unemployable. I starved and begged and did all the other things that one does to survive, and after a few years managed to drag myself free and onto my current super-respectable path.

how resilient, yet how vulnerable, they have evolved