The Tallest Man on Earth continues to forge beautiful folk melodies

In a game where indie musicians are continually trying to innovate, Kristian Matsson makes his fortune by turning back the hands of time. Better known as The Tallest Man on Earth, Matsson is forging out a legacy among the greatest names in folk history. His approach is very simple. No glitz or glamour here, The Tallest Man is just one guy with a guitar making music for your soul.

Matsson has been remarkably consistent over the course of his six year career, which has now hit another milestone with his third full length, There's No Leaving Now. It has a bit of that homespun sound like you were listening through an old phonograph.

The breathtaking melodies make it hard to not sing along, the acoustic finger picking is crisp and clear as ever, and Matsson's voice, while raw and sometimes scratchy, gives a very human vibe to it all.

Acoustic instruments are his weapon of choice, though he'll occasionally switch up. The lead in riff to album opener "To Just Grow Away" is backed by an acoustic rhythm while an electric guitar adds a mellow flourish over the top.

The most complex element is his lyrical themes. Taken literally, his lyrics seem to lack focus and don't even necessarily make sense, but the key is to focus on the big picture. Each song communicates an emotion or a specific set of imagery, so reading his lyrics is more akin to flipping through a picture book as opposed to reading a novel.

Lead single "1904" is packed full of references to the sun, earth, dirt trails, and wildlife. He begins to get a bit esoteric beyond that, but his voice clearly communicates the tone he wants to set, and the images are distinct enough to give each song a unique flavor. There are also songs that sound like they're directed to a specific person, but we don't get all the details about what's going on.

It's like hearing one side of a conversation, or hearing him reference some past event that the person he's addressing is familiar with, but the listener doesn't fully know what's going on. There's a certain beauty to this; it's much like passing a busy street and hearing snippets of conversations as you pass by. At any rate, Matsson certainly has a elegant and poetic way of putting things.

But it isn't all guitar based. The album's title track sees Matsson's voice backed by a piano instead of a six string. Of his many skills, his piano playing has picked up the most. "Kids on the Run," from his previous album The Wild Hunt felt like it had piano for piano's sake. But "There's No Leaving Now" feels much more natural. The chords, although simple, ring out with a majestic tone, which suits his voice perfectly here.

"Criminals," with its complex finger picking, is another gem, while album closer "On Every Page" features some of Matsson's most striking lyrics:

"I don't remember where I learned to die
but I'm humble for the rocks when I try
and somehow I am lowered onto the waves
and now with you I feel the sun and the salt on my face."

It's tough to say what his best album is because everything's so consistent, so figuring out what place There's No Leaving Now occupies within his catalog is no easy task. The best you'll likely do will be to just decide personal favorites. But this should be good news for appreciators of his previous work.

If you're looking to see him to branch out in new directions keep looking, but if you appreciate the mastery of Shallow Grave and The Wild Hunt then rejoice, because There's No Leaving Now easily stands in the pantheon beside them.

Score: 92/100

Tallest Man on Earth's live set takes listeners to new heights

For someone who goes by a stage name like The Tallest Man on Earth, Kristian Matsson spends a lot of time hunched over. The Swedish folk singer has captivated audiences with his stripped back acoustic sound, so you might expect his show to have at least some sort of impressive visual element to match. But on stage, he really isn't much to look at.

His beanpole figure is stretched into an awkward gait, sometimes playing while lifting one foot off the ground. He doesn't say much on stage either, but proves he's savvy enough to play off a crowd. There's more than a few performers who likely couldn't get away with such a lack of attention to their posture, or with such a stripped back presentation. But here's the thing: Matsson is so talented it doesn't matter.

Kristian Matsson knows just what to do to hold a crowd spellbound.

To the contrary, it even works in his favor because it forces you to focus on exactly what he is doing. Many shows today invest heavily into fancy light shows, or take up half the stage with effect pedals and switchboards. Unquestionably, there have been phenomenal artists who have employed those tools to brilliant use, but Matsson excels in something that seems to be becoming a lost art. He goes on stage alone with nothing more than a guitar, a piano, and minimal stage lighting, and he captures a crowd.

It's easy to say he succeeded, if the turnout was any indicator. I make an effort to be one of the first to arrive at shows, but I arrived at the venue a full hour before the doors even opened and was already behind the eight ball. I haven't stood in a line that long since I saw Paul McCartney.

The results were certainly worth it. His set was comprised of several top selections from his latest, There's No Leaving Now, as well as fan favorites from his two previous albums. His voice is rough, raw and loud, but there's a sheer beauty to what he sings and plays.

His lyrics, read literally, often seem to lack focus or at times don't even make sense. But what he's trying to do is convey a certain mood or communicate a particular set of imagery. There's a rural, nature motif in much of his material. In fact, two of his popular songs are built around references to avian wildlife: Where Do My Bluebird Fly" and "Sometimes the Blues is Just a Passing Bird." It practically allows you to picture the Swedish countryside in your mind's eye.

His namesake song, "The Gardener," was a fan favorite, as Matsson expresses his desire to "stay the tallest man in your eyes, babe." He let the crowd take over and sing the final refrain. The lively "King of Spain" was another standout, as the opening chords had the crowd clapping along. Matsson's foot stomp during the song's final long hold note was also a great moment.

Tim Showalter from Strand of Oaks lets that fiery feeling spill forth.

Of course, the newer material didn't disappoint either. Hearing "1904" without the iconic lead guitar in the opening was certainly a change of pace for a song that I've played way too many times as it is. Hearing only the rhythm guitar was actually an improvement, I daresay. When he turned to the piano for "There's No Leaving Now," he proved his talents don't end with the six string. His playing became even more heartfelt and expressive. His chords were simple, but also melodious and heart rending.

During his encore, he played "Revelation Blues," another personal favorite from There's No Leaving Now, before closing with "The Dreamer," the defacto title track from Sometimes the Blues is Just a Passing Bird EP. The sheer elegance and beauty of the piece was truly something to behold.

Philadelphia-based Strand of Oaks kicked off the evening with a tantalizing blend of dusty rugged folk rock. Tim Showalter looked like a frontiersman with his long flowing mane, and delighted the crowd with odes to  drinking 40s and John F. Kennedy. He impressed with his mellow croon, but like Matisson proved he was capable of reaching deep and unleashing torrents of emotion.