The Tallest Man on Earth
There's No Leaving Now

I put the CD in the stereo drawer. Play. The music begins.

Describing the music of Kristian Matsson, aka The Tallest Man On Earth, might seem easy; after all, his songs consist of acoustic guitar, voice, and little else. Folk, just pure folk. But it's the emotions that take over and determine the beauty of this album.

You listen to tracks like "To Just Grow Away" or the subsequent "Revelation Blues" on a Sunday afternoon, lying on the fresh grass of a meadow, in the shade of a hay bale left there to dry, and the accumulated stress disappears, giving way to a rare peace of mind.

Waking up in the morning with the cheerful "1904" makes your day less burdensome, and even if you don't want to, you end up humming it in your head until evening when you finally return home. The track that gives the album its title, "There's No Leaving Now", is the real masterpiece, lulling you with its piano while you, embraced by your love, set aside all problems and enjoy that intense moment.

In the end, "Criminals" and "On Every Page" remind you why you like this record so much. The voice touches you deeply, and the acoustic guitar creates a spiral of melancholic and autumnal melody that enchants, makes you dream, takes you away from the everyday life that is always so oppressive, so fast and harmful. And you are grateful that people like The Tallest Man On Earth exist, capable of bringing peace and joy in a world where it now seems completely disappeared.