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    By Sam Merten

Rob Thomas

Saturday, December 3, at the Uptown Theater.

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By Matt Dunehoo

Published on December 01, 2005

Everyone has a cousin like Rob Thomas. He's the bigger, mostly good-looking guy on the corner of the back deck, beer in hand, laughing and looking cool. The difference between Rob Thomas and your cousin is that somehow, Thomas has managed to successfully navigate his way into a solo career after fronting Matchbox 20, whereas your cousin still sells tires — which is probably what Thomas himself deserves to be doing. Think about all those frontmen who have had substantial solo careers after successful bands — artists whose bands' domination easily warranted solo products. Names like Plant, McCartney and Sting come to mind. Is Rob poised to assume his rank among this fraternity? Carlos Santana would say so. But there's one glaring obstacle in Thomas' path: the resemblance of his voice to that of a certain public figure's drawly croak. With a few more points knocked off his approval rating and a couple more White House scandals, George W. Bush would sing in the exact timbre of Thomas' agitated baritone. As in all things, history will be the judge.