Swedish songwriter Kristian Matsson doesn’t do things all that differently on his seventh studio album than on his previous records. And why? Because the world longs for great storytellers in music. With his début »Shallow Grave«, Matsson has already shown that he fulfils these expectations as The Tallest Man On Earth. The comparison with Bob Dylan sits loosely in musical criticism, but with Matsson it fits from the very first song. The voice, the brittleness, the reduced in his sound. Without being a copy. And now: »Henry St.«, an album that is sometimes poppier (»Slowly Rivers Turn«), sometimes more emotive (»Looking For Love«), sometimes folksier (»Major League«), sometimes more self-doubting, sparser (»Henry St.«).
In »Goodbye«, all this condenses into an intense four minutes that sound so nostalgically timeless that the world appears through a sepia filter for a moment. Matsson concentrates more on the inner view, wrangles, reflects more than before – and more than on the predecessor, which after all was made up of cover versions. On »New Religion«, the atmosphere creates the truly grand feelings, while strings ensnare the rhythm and Matsson sings, »The world is a wonder and here you lie«. This world, a panopticon of wonder and despair. Like all great storytellers, Matsson limits himself to the descriptive in his songs. Show, don’t tell. And when listening, all his words, his sentences, his pieces sound so infinitely honest and beautiful.
