Seeing a show at the Paramount usually results in an outstanding and memorable evening—particularly when the artist chosen to perform works well in the ornate, acoustically focused, old theater. The Tallest Man on Earth’s performance at the Paramount Tuesday night delivered the high expectations Austin has come to expect from the stalwart theater.
I knew very little about opener Strand of Oaks, but a meager amount of research will yield the information that Tim Showalter has two vastly divergent records under his belt. More importantly, his new album Dark Shores was produced by audio miracle worker John Vanderslice, which practically guarantees that it sounds amazing. And critics seem to verify. Live, Showalter’s voice was commanding, as he powered through distorted, guitar driven folk-rock songs. Maybe it was simply the mane of long hair, but I got a more serious, less quirky Jim James vibe. Strand of Oaks is an artist I’ll be looking into more closely. The set provided plenty to develop an opinion, but didn’t stretch on overbearingly, and soon, the lights dimmed for the intermission.
When they come back up, the set has been cleared, leaving a sprawling and open section of bare floor. A single amplifier sits far stage right. In the center, beneath one of the bright spotlights, sits a single chair, and laid on top—a single guitar. Like the man who will soon play, the staging succeeds from power in clean simplicity. Kristian Matsson, known as The Tallest Man on Earth, enters the stage to outrageous applause. He opens with “Love is All” from 2010’s The Wild Hunt, drawing cheers at the songs beginning. Audience applause at the onset of songs always marks, for me, an artist who has truly reached a special status with their listeners.
Matsson is captivating and energetic, pacing and dancing with quick, jittery, little movements like a featherweight boxer. In fact, he has a towel nearby with which he keeps mopping sweat that literally rolls off his face onto the floor, despite the fact that he wears only a thin muscle-shirt. This Swede is a long way from home here in Austin, TX. The single chair acts as his corner, and he occasionally staggers back to it, collapsing there for a moment before springing back into action. He even appears stunned at times, gazing heavenward with furrowed brow, entranced by his own rhythmic acoustics. Completely commanding each note, his singing is perfect, and he knows with what strength, tone, and subtlety to deliver the punch in each line. He’s a knockout.
Particularly impressive are Matsson’s vocals, in range, enormity and precision. He is something of a magician in that there appears to be some roughness or struggle when you first hear him sing, but it’s only an illusion. His voice stays impressively attuned to the notes of his guitar. In the middle of the second song, during a short, sustained pause, a girl a few rows behind me screams suddenly, “Oh my God!” She knows what’s coming, and when Matsson dives back into the song, he absolutely destroys it.
Between songs he is funny and charming, making self-deprecating jokes with a sly grin. Someone in the balcony shouts, “You’re way too talented!” Matson shoots back, “You oughta see the things I’m bad at.” He later jokes one of those things is the piano, sitting down gingerly and musing aloud about his own ability to find the on switch before performing a couple of incredible, sparse arrangements on the electric keys.
At the end of the set, the crowd gives Matsson a standing ovation, and the artist sheepishly comes back out for an encore. He closes the night with “The Dreamer,” singing, “I’m just a shadow of your thoughts.” Two days later, the memory of Tuesday night’s performance emerges very much like a shadow in my mind—beautiful, haunting, simple. I’ve enjoyed the Tallest Man on Earth’s records, but his live show at the Paramount was simply otherworldly.
All photos by Bryan Parker. Click any image to open slideshow view.
