Bros star Matt Goss: 'Me and my brother Luke should get on with having a good time together'
By his own admission, the Bros frontman lives in a state of wonderment, but he’s also haunted by family tragedy and just wants to be reunited with his brother
Matt Goss was born in Lewisham, London, in September 1968. He formed the group Bros with his twin brother Luke and schoolmate Craig Logan. With the help of songwriter and producer Nicky Graham and manager Tom Watkins, the trio signed to CBS and hit the big time with their second single, When Will I Be Famous?, which became a worldwide hit.
With Brosmania in full swing, the band had a further seven UK Top 10 hits over the following two years while their debut album, Push, sold over a million copies in the UK alone. The group played a sold-out concert to 77,000 fans at Wembley Stadium, London, in August 1989.
Following Bros’ split in 1992, Matt launched a solo career and found success in the US, where his shows at the Palms Casino and Caesars Palace, Las Vegas, established him as a hot ticket. In 2017, the unforgettable documentary, Bros: After The Screaming Stops captured a short-lived Bros reunion. The success of the film, which won at the Baftas, National Film Awards and the RTS Awards, led to more reunion shows.
Speaking to the Big Issue for his Letter to My Younger Self, Matt Goss reflected on a childhood full of music, the effect of worldwide success at a young age, and the complexities and joys of being a twin.
At 16 I was a ska boy and the music and style have stayed in my blood. I loved The Specials, The Selecter, Bad Manners, Madness. I had my Docs, sta-press trousers, a waffle cardigan and a Fred Perry. This was the time I felt I had an identity as a young man – ska created this big national gang. It also allowed fellas to really dance. If you went down the disco, you weren’t cool as a ska boy if you didn’t know how to dance.
We moved around a lot when I was a kid. But music and culture always surrounded us. In Peckham, West Indian culture was everywhere – we would always have rice and peas with our neighbours. There is so much soul in South East London. One of my favourite things was going down East Street Market – we called it East Lane. There was a stall that sold nothing but Thunderbirds stuff. We were never wealthy enough to get what we wanted, but it was a great time.
Our mum was a very powerful woman. She created this huge sense of a fortress around us – she was so protective and loving. Decency was a big thing in my family. We are all Londoners and have that old school common courtesy. I love my younger self. He was kind. When you get to your 50s, you realise how cool it is to be kind.
1989: Matt Goss (on the left) with bandmate and twin brother Luke at the Brits in London, where Bros won Best British Breakthrough Act. Image: Alan Davidson / Shutterstock
The house was always full of music. If you put on The Rolling Stones, mum would have to dance, and she was a beautiful singer. So was my grandad – he sounded like Nat King Cole. My aunt Sally was always singing Stevie Wonder songs – we would try to out-sing each other.
I was not confident in school but connected with teachers who took time to have some fun. I had the most glorious drama teacher, Mrs Roberts. And she saw something in me, so I got the lead role, the Joel Grey part in a production of Cabaret,which allowed me to sing. I fell in love with singing, joined my brother [Luke, his twin]’s band, and the rest is history.
I love politics but we were not overly driven by it as kids. My mum was Conservative – there was something about wanting to own your own property – but we were definitely working class. I’m proud of that. There was a kind of affluent thinking in our family. My grandad was a proud military man, who always said you have to keep punching walls and don’t let anything stop your dreams.
At 16, we were offered a record deal by Arista Records, but they pulled it the day we were due to sign. I thought that was the end. So I’m proud that we got back up, dusted ourselves off, carried on making music and Bros were offered a deal with Sony within a year.
Advertisement
Going into the studio to record the first Bros record was mindblowing. The producer Nicky Graham would say, just keep singing whatever you’re feeling. It was so organic, so innocent, but so real. When Push went to number one in 30 countries, it was the weirdest thing. We’d go to places we’d never been but already had a bona fide gargantuan fan base. That was quite heavy. I also remember a woman hyperventilating outside my mum’s house, and within 20 minutes there were loads more. My mum said, I think it is because of you, son. We could literally see this tsunami of energy on the horizon coming towards us.
I don’t feel like we were looked after in any way by our manager, Tom Watkins. He could have been one of the greatest managers this country’s ever known, but he was not a very nice human being. I don’t think he had any concern for us. He was lucky to have found Bros, East 17 and Pet Shop Boys. But I feel like he robbed me. We were a good band, but it was just about making as much money for himself. When you are doing 30 interviews, then a show and a meet and greet, you assume you are being looked after. He was buying himself multiple houses – and I think he robbed a lot from me.
While some of my friends were going out clubbing and getting up to no good, we were working. We had been in 37 countries by the time we were 19. It makes you grow up very quickly. And I felt the responsibility of representing Sony, just like years later playing for 11 years at Caesar’s Palace. There is a great deal of pride that comes from them putting the faith in me to be the frontline of that conglomerate.
When my sister Carolyn was killed [in 1988] it was the most confusing time of my life. There was no time to grieve. We were number one in Britain so there was all that elation, but we felt so guilty because we had just lost our sister. It reaffirmed every belief in my heart – we’re all going to have to say goodbye and don’t know when, so why waste life by not being present? The most valuable thing all of us own is our next breath.
I would tell my younger self to roll the dice sooner when it comes to love. So if you’re young and find somebody, roll the dice, have a family, get married. I have found somebody now that I really love. She’s awesome. I would love to have met her sooner. If I’d met Chantal then, I would have married her and had this whole journey with her.
As a kid I could never have imagined having my own showroom at the most famous casino on the planet, Caesar’s Palace. I would rather more of my bigger moments were here [in the UK] rather than America. I’m allowed to be a singer-songwriter and a businessman there but, in this country, I get dumbed down to just talking about Bros. I’m proud of Bros, but I have more to speak about. I love being back home, I understand there is a huge history here, but there is more to me.
Advertisement
Matt Goss and his mum Carol, who died in 2014
When my mother was ill, I didn’t have the courage to admit she was going to die. I thought I could save her. I really tried [she died in 2014]. She was at my house in LA, I was doing the show in Vegas then coming home and was so terrified of what the world would be like without her. I just wish I had been courageous enough to have an acceptance, know she was leaving soon, so I could ask her about everything. All the things she loved. Her favourite colour, band, food, flower. We think we know so much about our loved ones, but you wouldn’t bet your life on it. I wish I’d had those conversations and a few weeks of peace with her, rather than desperately trying to keep her alive.
Moving back to the UK after 25 years was one of the most complex decisions of my life. I felt comfortable in America and worried I would come back and be marginalised or have to fight. I don’t want to bloody my knuckles anymore. I’m done fighting. I’ve needed my mum since moving back, I’ve needed that miraculous ability mums have to make you believe everything’s going to be OK. I’ve needed to hear that but I’m the guy in my life that says that sentence now. So I feel slightly orphaned here, because my mum was home to me. But the British public have made me feel so welcome. They saw me grow up and treat me so well.
My career is a fucking gorgeous story. It’s got tragedy, joy and everything in between – a biopic would be immense. I don’t want to lose the size of these experiences, like when Joe Biden came to see me play, writing a beautiful song with Sharon Stone called Rain – if there is a female artist out there looking for a hit record, call me – or when I met Princess Diana, Robert De Niro, The Rolling Stones, Muhammad Ali at his house, Stevie Wonder at Motown. You end up doing things that sound like bullshit, but they actually happened. I call it where the voice takes you – and it has taken me to some interesting places.
1990: Matt Goss (far left) with Luke and The Rolling Stones
The only way I can honour my mother and sister is to live my best life. I have to be as kind as I can be and experience every minute of every day. So I live in a complete state of wonderment. Worry can pause your dreams. It has been a crippling thing in my life. But even with the tragedy I’ve experienced, there is a path through – I would like to tell my younger self that.
Be around dream makers, not dream breakers. I would encourage my younger self to look into the horizon as far as you can. Believe that it is all achievable. Don’t spend a millisecond around people who don’t believe you can do it. Find people who are braver than you, because courage is infectious.
If I could relive one moment, it would be the first time we entered the Top 40. Back then, it was like a religion, everyone listened to the charts on a Sunday. We went in at Number 39 [with When Will I Be Famous?] and the whole house exploded with joy. We had a hit record and were on our way!
Advertisement
Being a twin has been the biggest blessing of my life. And I know what my desire is, which is to be playing on stage with my brother, rocking a crowd. By definition, as a drummer, he has my back. But he’s much more than that – he’s an incredible actor and singer, and I understand how powerful it is to need your own identity. But not at the expense of our closeness. There’s room for both. Because I love Bros. What a glorious band to be part of, we’ve always created mayhem. And I couldn’t sit here if I didn’t believe we would create a new record or go on tour again. I hope for it with all my heart. I just think we should get the fuck on with having a good time together.
