The Freewheelin' Kristian Matsson

Is it a blessing or a curse to sound just like an early Bob Dylan?  Kristian Matsson might be the only man alive who knows for sure, but I suspect even he must have doubts.  At times, his most recent album, 'The Wild Hunt' is so reminiscent of classic albums like 'The Freewheeling Bob Dylan' and "Bringing it All Back Home" that a casual listener might for a moment think they were listening to a long forgotten b-side.  The differences are most definitely there, though, and it doesn't take long to appreciate where The Tallest Man on Earth (Kristian's stage moniker) uses his uncanny vocal resemblance to Mr. Dylan as a jumping off point for something that still feels fresh and relevant.

One thing Matsson learned well is that folk doesn't have to be soft, wilting or ambient (though there are some bands, like Horse Feathers, who do that sound rather well);  It can be raucous, angry and jubilant - sometimes all at the same time.  When Matsson sings "Driver don't go that fucking way," on 'You're Going Back', he stretches the epithet to the point of breaking and effect is downright unsettling.  This is not your mother's folk song. The Wild Hunt also borrows heavily from Dylan's lyric style, using convoluted lines the snake their way through a verse until you can barely recall where they began.  Take the opening line of the title track:

There is a crow moon comin' in well you keep looking out

It is the hollow month of march now sweeping in

Lets watch phenomenon's that rise out the darkness now

Within the light she is my storming heroin.

Matsson uses the juxtaposition of contrasting ideas (in/out,dark/light) frequently,  such as "I could roll you to hell / I could swim from your heavens."  The lyrics have a phenomenal sound to them, but they are dense to point of impenetrable at times, and border on beautiful nonsense. I've been thinking about a post on lyrics in general, and The Wild Hunt has plenty that are worth exploring.

There are definite departures from folk classics in Matsson's guitar work; He relies on quite an array of open-tunings that give each chord so many repeated notes that it feels like multiple guitars playing together.  It's a sort of folky 'wall of sound' with just one instrument, and it's quite in contrast with the spare finger-picking and alternating-bass strumming patterns that resonate on many of Dylan's best early tunes.

But the biggest stylistic differences between The Tallest Man and Dylan are in the subject matter.  Matsson is deeply personal at all times, though not without levity, such as in the joyful King of Spain, whereas Dylan's early songs were heavily infuenced by the political everyman philosophy of his country forebears.  You certainly won't hear Oxford Town in any of these tracks, and perhaps that's a loss, but if so, it's a loss that reaches far beyond The Tallest Man.  Politics have been more or less banned from popular music for some time, and if Matsson tried to bring it back, most people would just call him dated.  And, despite wearing his influences on his sleeve, The Tallest Man doesn't feel dated in the least.