[Tara Noble. even better than her musical outreach.]
I probably have one of the broader tastes in music of anyone you know. Music, for me, serves so many purposes. The mood of the day, the occasion and, most importantly, the current state of mind all come into play when I select a song or album to sink into. Sometimes, there’s no telling what’s going to touch me until I find myself falling off the edge of it. I never fight it. I am going to go wherever your song decides to take me with nary a regret.
But when it comes down to brass tacks, I’m a person concerned with lyrics. Your lyrics can be trite if your song is a mindless ass-shaker on a day when I have excessive energy that needs burning off. That works. But the fact of the matter is that I am a lover of words, first and foremost, and if your words are, in fact, just poetry disguised as lyrics, consider me sold.
Kristian Matsson is only twenty seven years old. It’s also worth noting that as a Swede, English is his second language. That doesn’t stop him from writing like William Carlos Williams or sounding like the love child of Tom Waits and Carly Simon.
This song comes from his sophmore effort, The Wild Hunt. Kristian has toured alongside the likes of Bon Iver and John Vanderslice, both of which I would consider fantasy double billings.
I think it might be best if I let Kristian’s words speak for themselves.
Tallest Man on Earth – ‘I Won’t Be Found’
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Well if I ever see the morning
Just like a lizard in the spring
I’m gonna’ run out in the meadow
To catch the silence when it sings
I’m gonna’ force the Serengeti
To disappear into my eyes
Then when I hear your voices callin’
I’m gonna’ turn just inside out
Well if I ever get to slumber
Just like a mole deep in the ground
Hell, I won’t be found
Deep in the dust forgotten gathered
I grow a diamond in my chest
I make reflections as the moon shines on
Turn to a villain as I rest
Well if I ever get to slumber
Just like a mole deep in the ground
Well, I won’t be found
I know there is a hollow
I need to fill it with a draft
Of all the words I have to say
And with a quiet whisper
I send a curse upon the day
That never used the sun to see
The light
I’m gonna’ float up in the ceiling
I built a levee of the stars
And in my field of tired horses
I built a freeway through this farce
Well if I ever get that slumber
Ill be that mole deep in the ground
And I won’t be found
Beautiful!