Tallest Man on Earth: "This Wind"

Juke Box Hero joins us with a bevy of tunes from Sweden, Mississippi, and Detroit to keep you jamming all Wednesday long.

Courtesy of our friends at the YouTubes, allow me to transport you, dear listener, from Sweden to Detroit, by way of Mississippi. No, this isn’t part of some cheesy re-urbanization program, bringing culture back to the Motor City. Just a little bit a of a musical merry-go-round.

So Sweden. That’s the home of Kristian Matsson, aka The Tallest Man on Earth (he isn’t, literally, just for the record), aka the 28-year-old, one-man folk dynamo whose scratchy, grows-on-you voice and slick yet considered songwriting and strumming make him sound like a proper peer of Dylan, Guthrie, Seeger, etc, rather than just an influenced youngster. He’s toured with Bon Iver and made a big impression on fellow countrypeople First Aid Kit. He’s also a man-crush of my man-crush, NPR’s Bob Boilen, so by the associative property, I had to develop some feelings for him.

Matsson is known for what has become the garden variety of YouTube stardom, releasing his own recordings and playing singer-songwriter acoustic pieces in open tuning. Though not bluegrass, his tracks move along at a swift folksy clip, with him deftly picking the guitar while his gravelly vocals, which sound grating at first, hover overhead.

"This Wind" isn’t – judging by the average pageviews – one of his more popular tracks, but I like how Matsson plays with the song's speed within the ¾ time signature, as opposed to the majority of his more straight-ahead cuts. As a result of this variation, the song just seems to have a little more feeling coursing through it. I wonder where he learned that trick from…could it be American blues singer Son House, who Matsson covers oh-so-creatively here?

A Mississippi native, House was known for throwing himself – mind, body and soul – into each song, each performance. The blues took him over, possessed him, like the holy spirit he studied as a budding Baptist preacher. Fortunately for us, House chose instead to share those deep, eternal feelings through song, and he appears to have been very much in possession of his soul, however troubled.

As the intertubes remind us, House’s repetitive style, excessive use of the bottleneck in his playing, and just general roughneck, man-against-the-world attitude influenced many artists, including Mr. Detroit himself, Jack White. White’s rendition of the Son House classic is a bit more true to the original than Matsson’s, though still with his trademark piercing shrieks and wicked banshee guitar licks.

Now, Jack, how exactly do you plan on getting us back to Sweden?

Dead Weather: "60 Feet Tall"

I could write an entire blog about Jack White. He is hands down one of the most talented musicians of his generation, and all of his projects -- The White Stripes, The Raconteurs and The Dead Weather -- have been met with critical acclaim, if not hoards of screaming girls throwing panties on stage, which is the undisputed barometer of rock musician success. (Though I can't confirm or deny the panty count, since I've tragically never seen him perform live.) Rolling Stone named him one of the top 20 guitarists of all time.

The youngest of 10 siblings in a Catholic family, White (born John Anthony Gillis) grew up in Detroit listening to blues and '60s rock. He learned the drums and the guitar; tried his hand in a few small local bands and careers; considered attending seminary but decided against it because he probably couldn't take his amp with him; and then formed The White Stripes with his new bride Meg White (he took her last name) in 1997 at the tender age of 22. They divorced three years later but continued to play together until this past February. The biggest track to come out of that collaboration was "Seven Nation Army," which was released in 2003 and won a Grammy for Best Rock Song. It's been covered by everyone from Audioslave to the Northwestern University Marching Band. (I really wish I had a video. Next season, for sure.)

The success of The White Stripes opened the Louisiana floodgates; White is ubiquitous, performing with his two current bands as well as solo, producing other artists, and making appearances in films like 2009's "It Might Get Loud," in which he palled around with U2's The Edge and Led Zeppelin's Jimmy Page. (Best scene of the movie: Whole Lotta Love-gasm.)

The Dead Weather is a powerful collaboration: White, The Kills lead singer Alison Mosshart, Queens of the Stone Age guitarist/keyboardist Dean Fertita, and Raconteurs bassist Jack Lawrence. They've released two albums, one of which (Horehound) is overflowing with incredible rhythms and licks. (I haven't heard the other album yet, though it's been out for almost a year. Shame on me.)

This track is stripped down but incredibly satisfying -- especially Fertita's guitar solo around 3:30. They make it look easy, but The Dead Weather is what a modern blues rock band should sound like. Enjoy.

"60 Feet Tall," performed by The Dead Weather.
Original on The Dead Weather's "Horehound" (2009).