Living Proof is maybe the first time in their twenty-year, two-name history that Silverada has eased off the gas. When they were still Mike & the Moonpies, there was a bite to records like One to Grow On and Steak Night at the Prairie Rose that pointed to some greater ambition. The juiced-up guitar run on “Paycheck to Paycheck” or the breakneck speed of “Road Crew” felt composed with whiplash as a primary intention, illustrating that hunger and heartache that came as a byproduct of making it in the Texas country circuit. Their latest, however, has a certain fatigue, like the group’s bones are getting a bit achier and they’re not as quick to wipe the crust out of their eyes running off only a few hours of sleep. Mike Harmeier admits that the first cup of coffee in the morning is a little stronger these days on the record’s title track, and you’re left to wonder whether the band is switching gears or staring down an empty tank of gas.
A lot of this pacifist sound can be attributed to the exit of the group’s longtime steel player, Zachary Moulton, followed shortly after by the entry of Parker Twomey on the keys. Twomey’s delicate touch paints a bit of a brighter picture and dials down the twang on songs like “Second Hand” or “Jack,” both reading like the basic sheet music of one of the barroom two-steps from their earlier days. The new roster gives a lot of their latest a bit of a sun-kissed feel, before Harmeier’s signature songwriting starts to infer a morning-after recollection for him and the rest of the crew. Groups like Wilco and The Kings of Leon have always been a secondhand text for Silverada, who now seems worried, if not a little accepting, that they may not make it out of the metaphorical garage.
With some of those honky-tonk staples being absent, a lot of the group’s edgier flavors aren’t as apparent, but it does help focus the sights on that new angle and fresh perspective. The light brush of the keys wisp around like a morning mist on “Highway Man,” an Eagles-adjacent drift down Route 66 where Harmeier rattles off the requirements of being a card-carrying member of the troupe. It’s not done pridefully, though. There’s a tinge of self-reflection in between the lines of faded tattoos and blown-out speakers. The Silverada of five years ago may have been a little more boastful of the late nights and early mornings, but the lifestyle is clearly catching up to them as the dawn creeps over the horizon. “You ain’t found yourself and you probably never will,” Harmeier admits in the first verse, a moment of self-realization more than an admittance of defeat.
But Silverada has always positioned themselves a little left of mainstream country’s center, pulling licks from Seger and Tom Petty. At the same time, Harmeier sharpens his pen on lines like “living life in the fast lane is the quickest lane to die,” on “Longitude,” showing that his wit is still firmly planted in between the brim of a Stetson. They’re not full-fledged rockers, but they know how to marry the two sounds into something a little more modern than the sum of their parts. The Ray Price-infused “How the World Ends,” perhaps the highlight of the record, gets some spacey ’60s transitions in the mix that solidify the crew as a great American band rather than simply a country collective. It’s nice to hear that they’re still trying to poke holes in the status quo even if it’s with a thorny rose rather than a pocket knife.
The band spent a vast deal of time on their 2024 self-titled LP shaking their fist at the man, gnashing teeth in the direction of the establishment and clawing for a seat at the table. Living Proof is a lot more non-confrontational, even accepting the fact that packing out barrooms might be as high as the ceiling gets. It’s clear through both an outlaw attitude and some golden hour arrangements that they’re still committed to filling up the venue with their new signature sound. Even if they aren’t as revved up as they used to be, there’s still something to be seen on the ride, even if the observations here feel a little more existential than we’re used to.
