Why Come On Get Higher by Matt Nathanson Still Matters

Why Come On Get Higher by Matt Nathanson Still Matters

It was 2008. You couldn’t walk into a Starbucks or turn on an adult contemporary radio station without hearing that specific, driving acoustic guitar riff. You know the one. It starts with a little bit of space, a rhythmic shuffle, and then Matt Nathanson’s voice hits that breathy, urgent register. Honestly, Come On Get Higher didn't just become a hit; it became the definitive blueprint for the "sensitive guy with a guitar" era of the late 2000s.

But there’s a lot more to the song than just being a catchy radio staple.

While it feels like a straightforward love song, Nathanson has been pretty vocal over the years about the "assassin" in his head—that internal critic that tries to kill every good idea before it hits the paper. With this track, he managed to shut that voice up long enough to write something that felt genuinely visceral. It wasn't just "I like you"; it was "I’m drowning in this."

The Anatomy of a Sleeper Hit

Most people think Come On Get Higher was an overnight smash. It wasn't. It was the second single from his sixth studio album, Some Mad Hope, released in early 2008. The song actually took a while to climb. It eventually peaked at number 59 on the Billboard Hot 100, which doesn't sound like "legendary" territory until you look at the staying power.

It lived on the Adult Top 40 and Adult Contemporary charts for what felt like an eternity.

The track was co-written with Mark Weinberg, and the production by Marshall Altman gave it this polished, yet surprisingly organic feel. It’s got that "live in the room" energy that a lot of mid-2000s pop-rock lacked. While the Billboard peak was modest, the RIAA certifications tell the real story. The song eventually went multi-platinum, moving over 2 million units. That’s a massive win for an artist who spent years grinding in the independent scene and touring in a van.

Why the Lyrics Actually Work

A lot of pop songs use physical language, but Nathanson’s approach here is almost cinematic. He talks about "the rush of your skin" and the "swing of your hips." It’s sensual without being crass. It captures that specific, frantic feeling of a new relationship where you’re basically addicted to the other person’s presence.

He uses words like "loosen," "lips," and "drown."

It’s hypnotic.

During his live shows, Nathanson often jokes about how the song has been used for everything from wedding dances to, well, less PG-rated activities. But at its core, he’s described the writing process as an exercise in surrender. In interviews, he’s mentioned that the song is about that moment where you realize you can’t control the outcome of a relationship—you just have to be in it.

The "Some Mad Hope" Era and Career Pivot

Before this song, Matt Nathanson was a cult favorite. He was the guy you saw at a small club who told hilarious stories between songs. Some Mad Hope changed the trajectory. It was his first release for Vanguard Records, and it put him in the same conversation as guys like John Mayer or Jason Mraz, but with a slightly more "indie-rock" edge.

The success of the single led to a VH1 "You Oughta Know" artist spot.

Suddenly, he was on The Tonight Show with Jay Leno, Jimmy Kimmel Live!, and even The CMA Awards. It’s a bit of a weird bridge, right? A folk-pop singer from San Francisco ending up at the CMAs? But that’s the power of a "sticky" melody. It crosses genres because the sentiment is universal.

  • Release Date: February 11, 2008
  • Album: Some Mad Hope
  • Key Chart Position: #3 on Adult Contemporary
  • Certification: Double Platinum

What Most People Get Wrong About the Song

The biggest misconception is that it’s a purely "happy" song. If you listen to the bridge—"I miss the shape of your body"—there’s a palpable sense of longing and almost a desperation. It’s not a "happily ever after" track; it’s a "right now, I need this" track.

Nathanson has admitted that his marriage was in a rocky place when some of this material was being conceived. The tension between wanting to be "good" and the magnetic pull of desire is what gives the song its teeth. It’s not just fluff.

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The Evolution of the Sound

If you’ve ever heard the early demos of the track, they are incredibly sparse. The "House of Blues" version, as he’s called it in retrospectives, had a different vibe entirely. It wasn't until the studio sessions with musicians like Aaron Tap and the production team that the "pulse" of the song was found. They added a certain subtlety to the kick drum and a shimmer to the guitars that made it float.

How to Actually Play It (The Guitarist’s Perspective)

If you're a bedroom guitarist, you've probably tried to learn this. It’s usually played in standard tuning with a capo on the 2nd fret. The "magic" isn't in the chords—it’s just G, D, Em7, and Cadd9 for the most part—but in the percussive strumming.

You have to hit those muted strings on the 2 and 4.

That’s what gives it the "drive." Without that rhythmic "slap," the song loses its momentum and just becomes another folk ballad.


Actionable Takeaways for Fans and Songwriters

If you’re looking to dive deeper into the world of Matt Nathanson or use this song as inspiration for your own work, here’s how to approach it:

  1. Analyze the "Senses" in Songwriting: Don't just write about how you feel; write about what you see, touch, and hear. Nathanson’s use of physical imagery is why this song stayed on the radio for three years.
  2. Explore the Back Catalog: If you only know this hit, check out the 2022 album Boston Accent or his 2025 release King Of (Un)Simple. He hasn't stopped writing; he’s just gotten more introspective.
  3. Watch a Live Performance: Matt is widely considered one of the best "storytellers" in the business. His live versions of Come On Get Higher often involve hilarious mid-song detours or covers of 80s pop hits (he’s a huge Def Leppard and U2 fan).
  4. Embrace the "Assassin": Learn to recognize your own internal critic. Nathanson’s career is proof that the best work often comes when you stop trying to be "important" and just try to be honest.

The song is almost 20 years old now, which is wild to think about. Yet, it doesn't feel dated in the way some 2008 synth-pop does. Acoustic instruments have a way of aging gracefully, and a song about the raw, magnetic pull of another person is never really going to go out of style. It’s a masterclass in pop-rock simplicity.