For Kristian Matsson, returning home has also meant learning to hear familiar surroundings in a new way. Just Beyond Endless Mountain, the new album presented in the provided material about his work as The Tallest Man on Earth, draws nourishment from a renewed relationship with Dalarna and its folk music traditions. Music that once felt inseparable from the expectations of his upbringing has become a source of creative freedom. It influences not only the instruments he uses, but also the movement of his melodies and the character of his singing.
Matsson grew up in Dalarna during the 1980s and 1990s, surrounded by folk musicians, folk dance, and local festive traditions. By his own description, this heritage initially aroused resistance rather than curiosity. Raucous rock and indie bands offered a different identity; American blues and folk music then opened another path. Bob Dylan became an entryway to older field recordings, which allowed Matsson to explore the tradition at a distance from the culture in which he himself had grown up.
His renewed interest in Swedish folk music reverses that movement, without necessarily abandoning his previous influences. The connection is partly in the recordings themselves: performances whose expressiveness does not rely on polished sound or strict technical precision. What once seemed like separate musical worlds now provide a shared lesson on how a unique voice can emerge through unevenness.
Tradition as Working Method
According to the provided material, Matsson’s farm and home studio in Dalarna became central to the creation of the album. Settling there gave him room to read about local history, listen closely to older folk musicians, and begin playing the violin. His relationship with the instrument shifted from hesitation to a fascination that persisted. He also describes how he opens concerts with a polska associated with Pål Olle from Östbjörka, thereby bringing his revived interest directly into his performances.
The most significant change, however, concerns composition. Matsson traces several of the album’s melodies to violin phrases and tunes from Boda. This points to a deeper influence than simply adding a traditional instrument to an existing arrangement: the violin becomes a way to find the actual song. Swedish folk music, as he describes it, has altered the inner pathways along which his songs take shape.
Older field recordings have also encouraged a broader expressive range. Matsson describes performances that move quickly, deviate in pitch, or take unexpected forms without losing their emotional power. His answer has been to allow greater contrasts in his own performances, from whispers to powerful singing, and to embrace sounds that are raw rather than conventionally beautiful. Here, tradition serves less as a rulebook and more as permission to let go of control.
The recording process extends this approach. According to the material, Matsson did most of the work himself, including recording and mixing, and used older tape recorders to introduce instability and texture. Various degrees of tape wear became creative tools, and the vocals were processed through an old Nagra tape recorder to create distortion. These choices make the recording medium part of the performance rather than a neutral container for it.
Working at home did not mean working entirely alone. The provided material mentions singer Sofia HK and drummer Björn Sima among the participants. Martin Hederos is responsible for most of the violin and piano overdubs, while CJ Camerieri contributes brass. Their input is part of a process that was still largely directed by Matsson and that combined collaboration with the flexibility his own studio provided.
Matsson compares the experience of making the album to There’s No Leaving Now and emphasizes the joy in the process and the feeling behind the work. Nature, rivers, birds, and doubt remain recurring motifs in the lyrics. The shift thus does not mean that his identity as a songwriter is fundamentally replaced, but rather that the musical language carrying these themes is changing.
Just Beyond Endless Mountain presents the return home as an active artistic endeavor. Dalarna is more than a backdrop: the region’s songs, recorded voices, and musical habits provide tools for writing, singing, and listening. In Matsson’s account, revisiting the tradition he once resisted has made the music feel more clearly like his own.
