Tallest Man On Earth- The Wild Hunt Rating: 8.1/10
It's hard to believe that Kristian Matsson is Swedish. He's got the Americana/Folk genre down to an absolute tee and his ability to concoct metaphors and abstract imagery far surpasses that of most native English-speakers. Matsson's full-length debut, Shallow Graves, showcased him mastering the art of folk music with surprising ease. His raw voice and vocal phrasing drew many comparisons (and rightfully so) with Bob Dylan, though instead of focusing on personal reflection or political assertion, his lyrical content largely resides in the abstract, as well as his obvious affinity for nature (even his two full-length album covers strive to depict the rustic beauty found in Earth's natural surroundings).
The Wild Hunt offers more of what we've come to expect from Matsson; minimal production value, finger-picked guitars, overpowering vocal yelps, rhythmic acoustic strumming, and the occasional banjo, possibly to remind you that he's a folk musician (in case you forgot what you were listening to).
The title track opens the album on a high note with its brief, trickling banjo line subtly accenting the melody of the chorus:
"I left my heart to the wild hunt a-comin'/I live until the call/and I plan to be forgotten when I'm gone/yes, I'll be leaving in the fall".
Future single "King of Spain", with its aggressive strumming and storybook lyrics, brings to mind "The Gardner" from Shallow Graves. Matsson's vocal phrasing on the track illustrates his impressive flexibility, ranging from strident barking to hushed asides in just a matter of seconds. The song comes to an unexpected climax when the thunderous guitar slows its tempo during the last chorus-- Matsson reaching for (and sustaining) the highest note he's put to record.
While The Wild Hunt is a succinct, enjoyable listen, it makes little attempt to be anything more. Shallow Graves seemed to be a promising beginning for Matsson's musical calling, consisting of many memorable folk melodies whose imaginative lyrics seemed to flow together in an incredibly organic way. Thankfully, there are a few songs on here that fit that description, notably the bouncy "Troubles Will Be Gone" and contemplative "Love Is All". But in the scheme of things, The Wild Hunt is less consistent and can't help but feel like a step back for Matsson.
I don't think many people expected him to go too far outside his cozy little niche, let alone break any musical ground with this release. Still, except for the long-winded piano ballad "Kids on the Run", there's nothing this album delivers that Shallow Graves didn't already supply two years ago. Even the dragging "You're Going Back" feels like an unsatisfying rehash of "The Gardner". While The Wild Hunt is a perfectly respectable sophomore effort, Matsson's songwriting is noticeably less inspired than that of his previous work. In the end, I'd really like to see the self-designated Tallest Man on Earth be able to go out of his comfort zone with his next release-- and if people don't respond to it, he could always have a promising career in the NBA.
Love them or hate them, it's hard to deny that Vampire Weekend are opportunists. Since their debut album just a few years ago, they've been riding the coat-tails of every pop musician to ever incorporate world music into their sound (David Byrne, Paul Simon, Peter Gabriel) and they just so happened to stumble onto a music scene remiss in their supply of notable reggae or African crossover music. This leads many unquestioning teenagers to deem their sound "different" or "unique" when, in fact, most people with a humble awareness of the genre could easily detect their specific influences. Of course, just because an artist's influences are noticeable, if not obvious, doesn't necessarily mean it's a sign of weakness; and it definitely doesn't have to mean they're "opportunists"-- they could be recording the music they love and ultimately want to make. Only Contra seems to play up the island-music aspect of their sound, stressing the reggae melodies and ska upstrokes much more than their 2008 debut. While many tracks on Vampire Weekend utilized elements of dub and calypso, some avoided the genre almost entirely-- ("Oxford Comma", "Walcott", "Campus", "M79"). These recordings still had a sound of their own, but they were unquestionably indie-rock. So, you might be able to see how Contra's overall lack of "rock music" components might be construed as pandering to the attention they received from their tropical sound.
Now, let's go back to the band's influences-- the sad reality is that there always comes a point in which musical aspiration becomes mere imitation. This thought must have crossed my mind a half-dozen times upon first listen to Contra, most of the comparisons being with the mid-career music of Paul Simon (Graceland, Rhythm of the Saints). On the former, Simon masterfully blended the instrumentation of proficient African musicians with more western-based structure and added his own brand of smart, melodic songcraft. The latter was more of an attempt to utilize complex Brazillian and African polyrhythms as the basis of all tracks, adding melody and lyrics later. The result was often beautiful and undoubtedly unique.
Contra's second track, "White Sky" is dripping with Simon trademarks, specifically the synth/guitar line that ebbs and flows throughout the recording (listen to Graceland's Crazy Love Vol. II and tell me it's not a basic facsimile), but also "Diplomat's Son", with its breezy melody and backing vocals-- it seemingly had to be drowned in electronic beats and samples to stop the tape machine from screaming Simon's name. What's more, I don't believe it's a coincidence that these tracks happen to be two of the best cuts from the album. Contra's first single, "Cousins", is likely the album's strongest track and the record's only conceivable crossover hit. It's a better, more energetic version of their 2008 breakthrough single "A-Punk" with an unexpectedly effective chorus. The ska-heavy "Holiday" is an upbeat, summertime track and while "Giving Up The Gun" is a sure-fire future single, it sounds a bit out of place on the record. Its heavy, electronic tones and reverbed atmosphere curiously don't fit in with Contra's trebly vibe, which is generally more nimble and modest.
As far as Contra's lyrical content goes, it's not so much about what they have to say, but rather how they can say nothing and make it appear cryptic (and what semi-ethnic rhythm to put behind it). Take, for example, the album's opening line:
"In December, drinking horchata/I'd look psychotic in a balaclava".
We're not even ten seconds in and we're already reaching for a dictionary. Oh, so he's singing about a Mexican rice drink and a hypothetical ski mask. That's sort of cool, I guess? By the song's end, we can glean (with no thanks to singer Ezra Koenig) that "Horchata" is likely about experimenting with new things and growing old with the person you love. Could he have told us this without name-dropping an Israeli holy-land or obscure brand of mineral water? Possibly, but that might actually require him to consult his emotions for personal meaning in his lyrics. This would only make it increasingly more difficult to hide behind words that serve no purpose other than to flaunt his awareness of alternative cultures and their lexicon.
I suppose that's my biggest problem with Koenig: his inability to just cut the shit and get real for a minute. He's too worried about his image to show the slightest amount of seriousness in his work. It's that frat-boy kind of mentality: "leave the pensive, depressing stuff for the emo kids-- we're just trying to have a good time here."
Despite Contra's high-points, it's the three songs in between "Holiday" and "Cousins" that considerably slow down the album. The grating, auto-tuned vocals of "California English" fortunately help distort the song's abysmal lyrics. Aside from one good line about the French Connection, Koenig's carefree message is borderline moronic at best:
"sweet carob rice cake, she don't care how sweet she taste/fake Philly cheese-steak, but she use real toothpaste".
I believe I speak for everyone when I say: "what the fuck?"
"Taxi Cab", on the other hand, is a four-minute piano-driven track that doesn't really go anywhere. With its light synthesizer and soft, airy vocals, the song could put you to sleep while running to catch a bus. "Run" suffers a similar fate. Though it's a much more engaging listen, it's still too long and offers nothing exciting or unexpected. Koenig opens the track with an attempt at lyrical depth and cleverness:
"Every dollar counts/every morning hurts/we mostly work to live/until we live to work".
It doesn't get much more vapid and unoriginal than that. The last time I remember hearing this many cringe-worthy lyrics was back in 2001 when Weezer's green album made assertions like "open your heart and let the good stuff out". Wow, man! I never really thought of it that way.
In the end, I don't think Contra will help widen the band's fan-base, let alone win over any self-avowed Vampire haters. I'm sure that many of their followers will see it as a strong follow-up, while just as many will be somewhat disappointed in the album's facile, innocent tone. Whether they know it or not, Contra has backed the band into an unfortunate corner. I expect their next album to continue with exceedingly lighthearted lyrics, recurring Caribbean influences, and frequent use of subtle synthesizers. I hope I'm wrong-- if it were up to me, their third release would unveil an unseen maturity while introducing a more aggressive, experimental musicality they alluded to in their debut. Because as much as I may like the "world music" aspect of their sound, when it comes down to it, this recent switch to mimicking Paul Simon feels so unnatural-- Peter Gabriel, too.
Tallest Man On Earth- The Wild Hunt
