The Lookout

The Lookout perhaps does not give up its pleasures as easily as some of her earlier records. There are triumphs here--not least the title track which marches along at a sprightly pace graced by some lovely violin sounds. But there are also songs that worry at their subjects, circling and darting in and out of the light.

Veirs’s 10th solo album is perhaps her most satisfying yet, the deceptively simple songs sketched out on acoustic guitar or piano (the lovely The Meadow is particularly minimalist) and subtly embellished by her band and producer husband, Tucker Martine.

Veirs may not be the most commanding presence, but she more than held her own against the sizable personalities of Case and lang, and she imbues The Lookout with that same quiet confidence, deftly weaving richly detailed, forward-thinking confections out of confessional singer/songwriter tropes.

In The Lookout, Veirs has done what she does best. Instantly recognisable and comforting, she opens her personal world up as safe haven in these strange and noisy times, whilst still keeping you at arm’s length, listening for secrets.

What could be a convoluted jumble is instead a beautifully fashioned collection of sounds that flow and shift from the ornate qualities of “When It Grows Darkest” to the stark piano and voice of “The Meadow”; one that drifts with the pensive, thought provoking vibe of a foreign film or the undulating of the ocean tide.

There are many ways to find solace in the unstable world we live in, and The Lookout is Veirs’ quietly optimistic manifesto.

The Lookout not only shows Veirs prevailing as a prolific songwriter, but also proving she has a welcomed perspective to emotional turmoil.

Much of The Lookout is subtly fraught.

On guard, but never defensive, The Lookout is a wonder--open-hearted, free-thinking and grown-up in all the best ways. [Jun 2018, p.116]

This album has been well worth the wait. [May 2018, p.91]

The songs here are lean, supple, confident. [May 2018, p.18]

Veirs has honed her craft over nine studio LPs, and this album reveals her at the height of her powers--a record that verges on pop, in the same way that a Magnetic Fields record might, though “pop” seems too reductive a term for the layers of artistry at work here.

The songwriting is on point and the production subtly augments without obfuscating or distracting.

Ultimately, at minimum, The Lookout treats us to exactly what we’d expect from Laura Veirs in well-crafted and thoughtful songs delivered with a warm and reassuring familiarity. Those listeners tuning in a little more keenly and willing to try these songs on time and again, though, will undeniably be rewarded with some of the finer fruits of one of the most dependable singer-songwriters working today.

A solid collection of songs that show Veirs for what she is: a reliably consistent, sometimes inspired, singer and songwriter.

With The Lookout, Veirs has synthesised both these personal and political feelings into something that can sometimes feel timeless, offering a beacon to hold in the darkness.