The Tallest Man On Earth - Sometimes The Blues Is Just A Passing Bird
- Written by Russell Warfield
It must be a drag for poor Kristian Matsson, being compared to Bob Dylan every time he opens his mouth, but it’s a comparison which holds more water than the typically lazy parallel drawn between Dylan and anyone who plays an acoustic guitar. The Tallest Man on Earth sports a vocal timbre which frankly sounds like the guy, and, with this brilliant new EP, Sometimes The Blues Is Just A Passing Bird, he takes another step towards sharing Dylan’s virtuosic maturity and knack for worldly lyricism. We’re going through a period of popular music – ushered in by the Fleet Foxes, currently spearheaded by Mumford and Sons – where trendy nu-Folk is arguably reaching saturation point. Luckily, The Tallest Man on Earth avoids being swept out with the dirge by continuing to broaden, deepen and darken his already excellent craft.
This EP is a lot more solemn and downbeat in tone compared to the recent The Wild Hunt LP, released earlier this year. These five songs saunter forward on lightly skipping finger picked chords, never even thinking about launching into some of the full voiced, six string hammerings of that album. It’s a delightfully restrained affair; a textbook example of doing more with less. Even the crunch of the electric (gasp!) ‘Dreamer’ moves languidly, allowing his the cinematic sweep of his increasingly epic song writing to take centre stage. Every so often, you get the faintest suggestion of something buried in the mix – could’ve been a string section, could’ve been guitar feedback – but it’s snatched away in an instant. Distractions are minimal; it’s just you and him: his engaging vocal drawing you deeply into the songs.
His lyrical prowess isn’t confined to its poetic quality, handsome though it is. Further than that, it’s Matsson’s ability to bend his syllabic rhythms to the will of the songs’ melodies which is so striking. The tiny lyrical snippet of “a little river to the golden ground” from the opening song’s chorus, to take just one early example, skips lightly across its hook with grace – a hook born as much from its rhythm as its melody. He’s the master of knowing exactly which rhythms, phrasings and sounds compliment his breezy melodies most effectively; facilitating frequent shifts from the simplistic to the sublime. Similarly, his delivery is golden: the big push of “you’re the light over me” (a ham-fisted line on paper) is delivered on 'Dreamer' with a unique sense of drama lying somewhere between longing and resentment, affording the lyric a heightened sense of personality. It’s this effortlessly emotive quality, and his instinctual ability to find the best form of delivery, that make the Dylan comparisons perfectly well founded.
The Wild Hunt was a fantastic enough LP, full of jaunty numbers and upbeat hooks, but, perhaps purposefully, this clutch of tracks feels like a shift down in gear, a step back, and an attempt at sober self evaluation. The results are haunting, but there’s no diminishment of Matsson’s charismatic warmth; when he asks “oh my Lord, why am I not strong?” the question is mournful, not defeatist. As exciting as everything we have already heard from The Tallest Man On Earth has been, Sometimes the Blues Is Just a Passing Bird promises deeper shades of affecting tenderness to come.