Criminally Cloud-Based
One of my favorite songs by Kristian Mattson —The Tallest Man on Earth— is “Criminals.” I have listened to it countless times over the last decade, and I still have no idea what it’s about. I could excavate some meanings if I sat and studied the lyrics, but I haven’t really done that either, and I don’t know that I want to. What I did do, though, was read a review of the album —There’s No Leaving Now— shortly after it came out that mentioned “Criminals,” in particular the guitar work —a beautiful, major key, hop-skip-and-jump-a-thon that leaps around like some hyperactive cricket behind Mattson’s raspy voice: A voice that I have loved since the first time I heard it back in 2010.
“It’s like you’re hopping around on top of the clouds,” the reviewer said. What a beautiful image that was. This sentiment would later drive my writing of “Treetops” —the first instrumental piece I ever wrote. I wanted to take someone up into the air as Mattson had taken me. And since Mattson is a hero of mine, and we are never given the psychological peace to believe we can ever belong alongside those heroes, it feels appropriate that I only ventured to take a listener up into the trees, not the clouds.
Every time I have played “Treetops” live, I have linked it into “The Balloonist,” as both songs sit in the same open tuning, so there exists a natural linkage of convenience. But “Treetops” has never been played standalone. However, every time I have played it, it has opened the respective show at which it was played. I somehow trust it to welcome those precious few into my audience. An invitation of sorts, to bring them up into the trees, up into somewhere.