When my mother and father broke up, I’ve got to be honest with you, it was the best thing that ever happened in my life. I was only five at the time, but all of us became who we wanted to be. The two separate influences became much more concise, and the time we spent together actually became more meaningful.
From an early age I’ve been perplexed by why people don’t say how they feel. I think we must be encouraged to communicate. Communication is absolutely everything.
My mother died of breast cancer in 2014 in a terribly violent way. On the anniversary of her death during lockdown, I just wanted to reflect. I think certain days should be off limits. Sometimes there is potential for miscommunication.
Watching my mother die left me with post-traumatic stress disorder. Towards the end I would have to drain her lungs every day from this tube coming out of her beautiful back. My mother was the most vivacious rock’n’roller, the light of any room with the best smile. She was so full of life.
I like to say what’s on my mind and a lot of it is inappropriate. I’ll give my audience a bit of a hard time. It’s not all nice and polite, and they never know quite what they’re going to get. If somebody’s wearing flip-flops at my show, for example, they’re going to get it, but I’ll never be rude.
I’d love to find a partner – somebody that’s up for a good laugh, who understands that I just want to be a good guy. I always say: a good heart and a dirty mind. We could go on tour together.
I’ve learned not to edit myself too much, and that comes from a place of inner philosophy.
We need intelligent conversations about interaction, about flirtation. Since #MeToo I worry we’ve become terrified of each other. But Covid may have reset the balance a little, and made people realise that we need human contact, but we need to be respectful of each other. People want to feel loved: men and women, everyone, of all ages, of all shapes and sizes.
I’ve spent lockdown alone and have been horrendously lonely at times. The only person you can talk to is yourself; during the lockdown I’ve witnessed just how important human interaction is.
I have a thick skin about things written about me. The most ridiculous story ever at the height of Brosmania? That Luke and I were genetically engineered. Back then everything was sensationalised.
I’m passionate about politics and I want to continue to fall in love with the process of diplomacy and communication, so yes, one day in 10 years’ time, if I am as passionate as I am now and I’m still on the pitch, then, politics would definitely be something I would consider.
During the past decade, there’s been an ease around me. I like people to feel they’re my equal; that we can communicate with respect. If you’re rude to me then I’m not as nice. I’m a human being. Why have I changed? It’s a little bit of everything. There’s a certain time when you hit a groove and say, ‘It’s good to be a man.’ You understand yourself.
I’m not going to stop performing any time soon. By the time I’m 80, I hope they’ve discovered a cure for old age. When I do croak, I’d like to either be making love with my wife or on stage.
Matt Goss’s new album is out later this year