Album of the Week: The Tallest Man on Earth Dark Bird Is Home

This week there's not a lot of big releases worth noting, but there are some really interesting albums out from artists who deserve much more attention from listeners. Surfer Blood takes another step forward on their junior album 1ooo Palms and Crocodiles continue to explore new genres (Clash infused reggae this go around) on Boys. For my money though, the best release is The Tallest Man on Earth's latest, Dark Bird Is Home.

Kristian Matsson has been quietly releasing lovely little acoustic rock gems as The Tallest Man on Earth for a little under a decade, and while his albums have been consistently pretty in an unassuming way, none of them have made much of a mark on a large audience. Which is a shame really, because you'd be hard pressed to find a musician who makes albums this reliably enjoyable, in any genre.

If you're concerned that this is all a lead-up to me writing that Matsson makes some big sonic left-turn here, breathe regular – he's still as capable as ever of using an acoustic guitar to create shimmering landscapes of sound and voice. If anything, he's gotten better at nearly everything he does, and Dark Bird is easily Matsson's hookiest album, and also features an expansion in both sound and approach.

None of the things he does here are particularly groundbreaking, and it's easy to pick out Matsson's influences if you are so inclined. "Sagres" sounds like an unused cut from Bruce Hornsby's The WayIt Is, and he taps into Bon Iver's backing vocals approach on opener "Fields of Our Home." On the whole, the album sounds an awful lot like last year's Lost In A Dream by The War on Drugs, which is to say it sounds a lot like Tunnel of Love-era Springsteen. This is all to the good – Tunnel of Love is my second favorite Springsteen, and Lost In A Dream was one of the best albums of 2014. Matsson add his own spin to this snyth and atmosphere-heavy approach by digging deeper into folk music than The War on Drugs or Springsteen did on their albums.

Take the aforementioned "Sagres," which uses the synths to give the song a very Scottish lament vibe, or "Beginners," which sounds like early (and folkiest) Bob Dylan.

Album highlight "Singers" sounds like Matsson has taken the riff from Jackson Browne's "These Days" and just slightly repurposed it, until a saxophone starts adding soft touches about a third of the way through. I'm a fan of the sax, but used improperly it can be an overpowering instrument (check this delightful list of songs nearly ruined by saxes courtesy of The Onion's AV Club). It's used perfectly here, and adds just the right amount of depth to the song.

"Slow Dance" may just be the most radio-ready song on any Tallest Man on Earth album to date, and features some lovely guitar lines under the immediately infectious driving riff. It also makes wonderful use of horns, and the whole song comes out sounding like a perfect summer afternoon – I already added it to my summer playlists, and I suggest you do likewise.

From a lyrical standpoint, this album may be Matsson's brightest yet, despite the name. "Darkness of the Dream" (a nod to The War on Drugs?) is a perfect example of this, as Matsson extolls the benefits of resilience and power of determination over some truly lovely guitar and piano work. It's an incredibly uplifting song without crossing into sappiness or sentiment, and may well be one of Matsson's most complete achievements to date.

The folk rock vibe doesn't change throughout Dark Bird, and I suppose for people hankering for a little more variety in their music, the songs might be a little too similar to make any lasting impression. Spend a little time with the album, however, and allow it to wrap you in its tones and timbre, and you might just find it sounds like home. 

Dark Bird Is Home is out on Dead Ocean Records.

Album of the Week: Tobias Jesso Jr. Goon

You don't hear piano as the lead instrument much these days.

For a while there, Coldplay and Keane were the lead ambassadors of the notion that the piano is still a viable rock instrument, but Coldplay transitioned to the guitar and string sounds championed by U2, and Keane…well, I'm not sure what happened to Keane.

There was a time in the 50s and 60s when the piano was the primary songwriting instrument (hell, it might still be, I'm no musician) for some truly, truly classic songs.

Tobias Jesso Jr. would have fit right in during that era, but on his debut album, Goon, he manages to create music that feels both of its time, and timeless.

Jesso channels a variety of classic rock songwriters on Goon, from Carole King and Harry Nilsson to Jackson Browne and Randy Newman – all writers who were able to produce shimmeringly lovely music from a simple palette. On all but two of the 12 songs on the album, the piano and Jesso's boy-next-door voice are front and center, and he sings with an untrained earnestness that marked so much of the aforementioned artists' best work.

Jesso knows how to push his voice when he wants to – check out the way his comes this close to breaking near the end of "How Could You Babe" as he pleads for understanding from a former flame.

The man is staggeringly capable of writing a hook – "Can We Still Be Friends" has a King piano line that is immediately accessible and infectious, and Jesso pairs it with his best young Paul McCartney plea. "Leaving LA" is another impossibly catchy piano-driven number that quietly builds to a gorgeous choral climax.

"The Wait" and album closer "Tell The Truth" prove that Jesso is as skilled on the guitar as he is on the piano - both are incredibly catchy finger-picked acoustic numbers that sound like they could've come from either Browne or James Taylor in their heydays.

Jesso isn't a complete throwback artist, however, and while he certainly embraces the pop stylings from the 60s, he isn't afraid to bring his own flourishes to the songs.

On "Hollywood" Jesso manages to channel both Newman and Death Cab for Cutie's "Why You'd Want to Live Here" without any of the expected bitterness. It's just him and his piano, singing like he's the only guy in some dive bar on the strip, about to give up on Los Angeles and crawl away. When he brings the horns in at the end of the song, they bleat and blare like they're the first line is his shambling pity parade. There's a little bit of Radiohead in the way the horns cut across Jesso's piano – it's wildly emotive without using any words.

"Crocodile Tears" is hilarious, tongue-in-cheek ode to a ball-breaker who leaves him in ruins that features the best Elton John piano-work this side of Goodbye Yellow Brick Road and the electric guitars are straight out of a George Harrison solo – a little strange at first, but it completely fits the song.

Looking back at what I've written so far, you've probably noticed how much I'm referencing other artists in this piece. This could lead you to think if you're already fans of the source material, there's no need to sample Goon. And that's wrong.

Perhaps the most impressive feat on this simple gem of an album is the way Jesso manages to funnel all these influences through his lovesick worldview. He sounds like the young man he is, wiser than his years, but still dumb enough to keep falling in love with the wrong people. In time – one hopes – he'll learn wisdom, but as Goon ably proves, he's further ahead than most.

Goon is out on True Panther Sounds.