The Tallest Man On Earth – review
If you’re looking to discover original and exciting new music, the description of an act as ‘the acoustic guitar wielding singer-songwriter…’ is probably the last place you will go looking.
In a genre saturated with beardy songsters, who, having spent eighteen months in the wilderness to derive inspiration from nature, finally get around to making a record, it’s enough to make anyone react with something between a yawn and a shrug.
Throw being Scandinavian into the melting pot and it may provoke a roll of the eyes. Perform under the bombastic moniker of ‘The Tallest Man on Earth’ and it’s enough to be truly put off.
So, Kristian Mattson, ticking all the above boxes, has no business being as accomplished a performer as he is at this evening’s magical performance at The Hackney Empire. The venue is ideal, the century old theatre resonates with the personal quality of the music. A seated auditorium has the power to demand the audience’s attention that an all standing venue with a noisy bar does not.
What makes The Tallest Man on Earth stand out from his peers isn’t just his ability as a songwriter and a guitarist, though both of these are exemplary. It isn’t the juxtaposition between his harsh, guttural vocal and his gift with melody.
It’s the understanding of the very basic dynamics of loud and quiet which really make his performance a rare and captivating one. At times Mattson caresses the strings of his guitar so gently, it is the visual equivalent of a leaf falling slowly from a tree. In contrast, sudden bursts of crescendo are added, where he strumms chords with urgency and deliberate ferocity. It is a simple trick, one that is effective, and Mattson has the songs to back up this playfulness.
In truth, The Tallest Man on Earth’s latest record ‘There’s no leaving now’ seemed to be a slightly weaker offering than previous albums, but the new songs here hold up against the old. A stand out of these is the splendid, retrospective ‘Criminals’ which demonstrates the extensive talent he possesses as a guitarist. ‘This one’s a bit trickier’ he mumbles, (his between song chit-chat is barely audible) before launching into it effortlessly.
Lead single ‘1904’ tinkers along pleasantly enough without being remarkable, particularly when compared to the emotion packed into some of the older tracks. ‘Love is all’ is as tender a composition on separation and loss as you’re likely to hear, and his vocal packs veracity and fragility into his heartfelt proclamations.
Perhaps his best song, “Where do my bluebird fly?” improves with each performance, and stirs a yearning for Mattson to re-record the rather slipshod version from his debut LP, Shallow Graves. The songs from this album have seemed to grow with age; the ragged, Woody Guthrie esque studio versions having disguised excellent song writing behind the aesthetics of the recording. On tonight’s performance they demonstrate what a gifted songwriter The Tallest Man on Earth really is.
While the tones of his songs generally have an introspective edge, Mattson can also be playful, as best demonstrated on the quirky ‘King of Spain’, which is always a crowd pleaser. Mattson clearly has a sense of humour too, engaging in wordless banter with guitar techs and photographers.
A duet with his wife, fellow Swedish singer-songwriter Amanda Bergman to close his shows could perhaps be considered a cheesy moment, but when the feeling is so warm and genuine, it’s tough to be cynical about it, and the simple harmony turns what might have been a crass moment into one that makes the appreciative, respectful audience rise from their seats to sound their appreciation.