The 99 Greatest Songs of 1999: Critics' Picks Thomas’ eyes widen when he talks about the “Threat Level Midnight” episode of The Office, of which he has a framed poster, and the vegetable soup at his favorite local diner. During an extended conversation at his home on a late March afternoon, he grows most excited when discussing his son’s first attempts at music or his wife of 20 years, Marisol, and the new songs that she’s inspired or his other dog, a skittish one-eyed terrier-dachshund named Ollie, who Thomas rescued from Puerto Rico. The erratic first part of his life, and the whirlwind international success that almost immediately followed, have given way to a calm, well-adjusted forties for Thomas. Thomas laments how ugly his shirts are in both snapshots, even though they look ordinary enough. There’s a photo of Thomas posing in between Barack and Michelle Obama, and another where he’s side-by-side with Mick Jagger. A narrower room adjacent to the main basement area is brimming with prized memorabilia - Grammy awards, framed gold records, magazine covers, live show posters - that Thomas says will remind him what he’s capable of whenever he gets stuck on a song.
It’s in this basement that Thomas recorded much of Chip Tooth Smile, his fourth solo album, out April 26 on Atlantic Records there’s a full band setup tucked away near the door, where Thomas can stumble downstairs to record vocals or work through a piano line. Whatever you’re doing now, you’re winning.’” “I’ll be like, ‘Son, I just want you to remember that when I was your age, I was sleeping in a car, or on a park bench. “I just don’t think he’s found the songs just yet,” Thomas shrugs - and that’s okay, because he’s got the skills, and the infrastructure. His son’s a good guitarist, Thomas insists, much better than he was at his age. Like any father who begins an anecdote with an eye-roll and a “Back in my day,” Thomas now uses his origin story primarily to wave away whatever mild concerns Maison, a junior at Berklee College of Music in Boston, has about making it as an artist. Beginning with Matchbox’s 1996 debut Yourself or Someone Like You, Thomas has sold over 18 million albums as the band’s frontman and as a solo artist, according to Nielsen Music, with more than a dozen Billboard Hot 100 hits. After Matchbox Twenty signed to Atlantic Records in 1994, Thomas spent the majority of his twenties as an inescapable radio presence, harnessing his talent as a pop craftsman to become one of the most successful songwriters of all time. Sitting in the basement of his Westchester mansion as a lean 47-year-old, with a Pomeranian named Samy curled up against his black Adidas sweatpants and a sleek hoodie with the words “Be Good To People” scrawled across its center, Thomas is more than half a life removed from the borderline homelessness of his early adulthood.
When Thomas started playing in local cover bands - after high school, as all of his friends started going to college and thinking about careers - he realized that he was either going to become a successful musician, or spend his life performing manual labor. He couldn’t keep a job, and stole at least one car. He’d climb into friends’ bedrooms at night to use their showers and sleep in their closets. At that point, he had already hitchhiked through the southeast to escape his home life in Orlando - his mother drank too much, “and she was abusive, just like her mother was abusive,” he says. When he was 21 himself, Thomas explains, he was still a year away from signing his first record deal with Matchbox Twenty.
Thomas sneaks another glance at the photo of Maison before pocketing his phone. He laughs a little, fully aware of the happy accident: the only child of Rob Thomas, Matchbox Twenty frontman, platinum solo artist, alt-rock hero, picking up a guitar to make ‘90s alternative music, a sound that hasn’t been popular for years.