The Silver Jews, Lookout Mountain, Lookout Sea

In a musical landscape where record reviews tend to devolve into name-checking, genre-hyphenating, deconstructionist vacuums, it’s refreshing to get the chance to review a record where this is practically impossible. Lookout Mountain, Lookout Sea is just such a record. Silver Jews frontman David Berman has always been able to straddle the lines between genres without ever tying himself to one or another. Berman never gives the impression that this is done intentionally, or even consciously, but simply that this is the music he makes. And that’s just it; he makes music.

Silver Jews don’t make country records; they’re not an indie band; they can’t be labeled as a rock act, even, though all of these elements are present. David Berman simply writes the songs he wants to write and plays them as he sees fit. Rarely has this been more evident than on Lookout Mountain, whose brief 33 minutes flit across rollicking ragtime piano numbers, plaintive country-blues, jangly guitar rock, and one very self-aware film noir satire in song. Throughout, Berman’s signature storytelling, complete with larger-than-life characters and highly improbable situations, highlights his unique ability to seem at once incredibly jaded and strangely innocent. Resignation pairs quite well with whimsy in Berman’s song-craft, leaving the impression of a man firmly in control of the facts of the world yet perfectly incapable of losing his sense of wonder. Just be thankful he’s willing to share a piece of it with you.