For a twenty-something (and normal-height) Swede, Kristian Matsson, aka The Tallest Man On Earth, is an eerie cousin to Depression-era Americana. His rusty, battered guitar and even coarser howl of a voice would be a credible fit alongside the scratchy recordings of the "Anthology of American Folk Music"  and the hollerin’ blues of long-dead legends like Dock Boggs and Charley Patton.

Of course, Matsson isn’t the first young musician to find an identity in the vanished landscape of the blues. Invariably in reviews of the Tallest Man On Earth, that other great scholar of American folk, Bob Dylan, is named, and not without cause. Like the young Dylan, Matsson is caught up in these ghostly figures, imitating them as much as he draws inspiration from them. Truth be told, his voice has the Dylan edge, in that he emotes with great power, but in a way that will feel like grating teeth to many.

Calling Tallest Man On Earth a straight Dylan rip is, however, a lazy option. Young Dylan rarely let loose, preferring a pained lament ("Girl From the North Country"); Matsson’s creaky howl stretches and fractures with terrifying force, peaking on the agonised "The Burden of Tomorrow". Matsson’s voice conveys torment and emotional vulnerability that Dylan always kept at arm’s length, making for a very different experience.

Having said that, The Wild Hunt does see Matsson straying a little closer to the Dylan camp than on his previous record, Shallow Grave. Where older tracks were marked by a mild lyrical surrealism, where houses were painted with water and lovers drowned in one another’s 'kerosene eyes', The Wild Hunt is concerned with simpler imagery more like Freewheelin’ -era Dylan. Matsson, no doubt aware of the inevitable comparison, even goes so far as to slyly reference his musical grandfather, throwing in a casual reference to 'boots of Spanish leather' in "The King of Spain".

Like Dylan, Woody Guthrie and Charley Patton, Matsson’s songs don’t sound so much composed as channelled, like there was some natural reservoir of song to be tapped. This elemental simplicity, well suited to Matsson’s unassuming lo-fi recording set-up, is familiar and, at the same time, transcendent. The Tallest Man On Earth is the latest in a decades-long line of folk singers, and can stand comfortably alongside them all.

Review Score: 8/10