The Tallest Man On Earth
Shallow Grave

Streetwise, visceral, essential, "The Tallest Man on Earth" owes his stature to the experience accumulated under his heels in a life on the road.

A storyteller must have seen a lot of faces, roads, and places to fulfill his role: to unite different, sometimes antithetical worlds—Europe, in its coldest wing, which doesn’t see the sun for six months of the year, and America, with its dreams "on the road" and infinite landscapes. And the baggage, for someone like Kristian Mattson who hits the road, must be light. A guitar, preferably one that's been through a lot, a few picks, a fair amount of calluses on the fingertips, perhaps some road maps, a few dollars (these days euros don’t fascinate as much as the green watermark of "Uncle Sam"), and some good stories to tell, perhaps through music. The melancholy of Nick Drake, the intimate plucking of Elliott Smith, a bit of that "busker" wisdom from Damien Rice, the crystalline songwriting of Buckley (father) and the inspired one of Buckley (son), a voice that is at times hoarse, at times nasal, like pre-electric Dylan—all these ingredients make Kristian a rising star to watch with interest, because we are sure his works will bring new luster to a genre, folk, that has been too lost in recent years behind a "psych-" quest that’s become more "-opathic" than "-adelic".

The carefree "I Won’t Be Found" is tight in its pace and seems to take us flying between Europe and the USA. "Pistol Dreams" travels a sunny highway with the wind in your hair. "Honey won’t you let me in" seems to have walked out of "Freewheelin'", from the Duluth bard. The "title track" is a porch and rocking chair ballad. The melancholic "Where Do My Bluebird Fly" brings to mind the fragile drakian production, and Kristian sings at sunset. The streetwise spirit returns with "The Gardner", a "busker" ballad that skillfully drags the listener towards the second part of the record. With "The Blizzard’s Never Seen the Desert Sands", it seems like the Dylan of the early works is back, and "The Tallest Man..." guides us around Confederate America between "rednecks" and saloons. Kristian Mattson proves he knows how to balance lightness and melancholy, and thus flow "The Sparrow and Medicine" and "Into the Stream". The concluding "This Wind" leaves us with the hope that the "wind" of the boy from Dalarna takes him far, exploring new roads, and that he remains in our eyes "The Tallest Man on Earth".

The album flows consistently, the songwriting is inspired, the interpretation heartfelt, emotionally compelling, the tormented soul, that, is ever-present; "The Tallest Man..." takes us back to the best days of vintage folk. The arrangements are just right: voice, guitar, and nothing more. The future is a horizon yet to be discovered, still covered by clouds, like those on the album cover. Beyond that cloud bank, the sun seems to shine, promising a bright path in the footsteps of the likes of Drake, Smith, Buckley, and Dylan.  

From cold Sweden, Kristian Mattson, alias "The Tallest Man on Earth"!!