ALBUM REVIEW: The Tallest Man on Earth Hones Craft and Wisdom on ‘Henry St.’

With his latest album, Henry St., Swedish singer-songwriter Kristian Matsson, aka The Tallest Man on Earth, offers another heartfelt set. Over 11 songs, he employs some of his most lavish production approaches while exploring the ephemerality of life, the redemptive nature of love, and the angst that inevitably accompanies selfdom.

The Tallest Man on Earth, aka Kristian Matsson (photo by Stephan Vanfleteren)

On “Bless You,” Matsson’s voice is framed by acoustic guitar rolls, an ambient piano part, and resonant beats. Dramatic imagery (“Life is a drunken bird in neon lights,” “I dance with a wrecking ball”) highlights his poetic leanings. With “Looking for Love,” meanwhile, a droney organ part contrasts with rollicky percussion. Lyrically, Matsson uses paradoxes and obliquities to illustrate the complexity of long-term romance (“Someday I’ll remember / how to disappear,” “I’ve … been in the arms that you’re throwing around”).

“Every Little Heart,” with its simple yet sensual phrasing, recalls Matsson’s debut, 2008’s Shallow Grave, and 2010’s The Wild Hunt, though his perspective points to a relatively newfound equanimity. “I’m going to see the world through every little heart I know,” he sings, considering the importance of resilience and being able to empathize with others. A busy/brushy drum part is juxtaposed with the sultrier timbres of Matsson’s guitar and vocal.

While the project as a whole benefits from Henry St.’s diverse instrumentation and precise arrangements, several tracks fall short of enrolling the listener melodically. The bluegrass-inflected “Major League,” featuring Matsson’s refreshing banjo part, is rhythmically engaging but suffers from the lack of an effective hook. Ditto the summery “In Your Garden Still,” with its dreamy atmospherics and riffy chords courtesy of Tom Petty and John Lee Hooker. “Goodbye (Goodbye Lonesome)” shows Matsson doing his best cross of Dylan circa “Lay Lady Lay” and White Ladder-era David Gray, though he fails to translate his sense of longing into a sufficiently seductive tune.

That said, the moody title cut spotlights Matsson venturing into jazz-club territory, his minimalistic piano part and nostalgic vocal yielding one of Henry St.’s standout tracks. Additionally, the song illustrates his ability to succinctly express complex notions. “We were told that we’re all someone / then the world just looks away,” he declares, reflecting on what can seem like a mixed message: If I’m so valuable, why does everyone seem so indifferent?

On “New Religion,” Matsson riffs on the “be in the world but not of the world” notion. “Could I ever just lose myself?” he asks, lamenting the burdens that accompany being attached to a sense of identity. The song is catchy enough yet primarily carried by Matsson’s melancholic delivery. “Foothills” is a fitting coda, speaking to the convolutions of legacy, how we both leave our mark and are obliviated by the passage of time (“I will be upright and leave wrecks upon my sea / and starve the fire on the foothills of our dreams”).

While Matsson’s latest set occasionally loses traction, it certainly includes its memorable moments, most of which reiterate the confessional pitch and rougher vocal stylings of his earlier work. Also, throughout Henry St., Matsson articulates some of the more hard-won insights of his career, commenting eloquently on humankind’s perennial themes.

The Tallest Man on Earth’s Henry St. is out April 14 on ANTI-.