The Tallest Man on Earth @ QMU, Glasgow, 16 Apr

As they move towards a bigger live sound, nothing can rein in the power of Swedish folkies The Tallest Man on Earth

Live Review by Lewis Wade | 18 Apr 2023
  • The Tallest Man on Earth live at Usher Hall (Ed), 3 Nov

Mononymous opener Esther is a bit nervous at the outset of her set. It's her first time playing outside of Scandinavia and she doesn't typically have to speak English to a crowd. But she soon gets into the groove (with her “highly choreographed moves”, as she sarcastically notes), expertly wielding her four drum-poms on her vibraphone-and-beats setup to consistently great effect. It's dancey indie-pop that the Swedes know so well (Annie, The Concretes, etc), and which Esther delivers like a veteran.

Kicking off with the familiar strains of Håkan Hellström's För sent för Edelweiss (just lip-synced, though he did cover it on last year's Too Late for Edelweiss), Kristian Matsson – The Tallest Man on Earth – emerges in typically gregarious fashion. He serenades the audience before launching into a solo rendition of The Wild Hunt. The band jump in at the last second and a boisterous Sagres follows.

This is the biggest difference from The Tallest Man on Earth of yore – it now feels much more like a band effort (despite the magnetic, show-stealing Matsson). This fits naturally with the just-released Henry St., but is apparent in revised versions of older hits. Revelation Blues and Love Is All are good examples, but 1904 is the real pièce de résistance. The catchy melody on electric guitar underscores the song, while drums and bass give a much beefier feel to the arrangement. Matsson spins from whispers to howls all night, but here he even adopts a deep, Johnny Cash-esque spoken word breakdown, before an almighty climax worthy of a closing number. This is the fourth song of the set.

There's plenty of effusive chat from the always intense Matsson, cracking jokes with the crowd (and occasionally joining them), giving heartfelt tidbits as intros and plenty of banter with the band. Everyone's in feel-good mode and it makes the music a fun listen, despite the songs seeming a little arch or melodramatic on record. The Dreamer and The Gardener appear towards the end of the show, bringing rapturous sing-a-longs that Matsson often disrupts with his phrasing, but the power and force of this finale further cements the charismatic reputation of a man meant for the stage.