Mike Harmeier was still in his early 20s when he formed the band now known as Silverada. From the start, they were the definition of a workingman’s country band, cutting their teeth with five-hour sets on Austin’s dancehall circuit before spreading their music to the rest of America. By the early 2020s, they’d become global ambassadors of homegrown Texas music, flying their flag everywhere from Abbey Road Studios (where they recorded 2019’s Cheap Silver & Solid Country Gold with help from the London Symphony Orchestra) to the Grand Ole Opry.
The band’s newest self-titled album, ‘Silverada’, marks a new chapter in the band’s history. It‘s not just the title of the boldest release of the group’s critically-acclaimed career; it’s also the name of the reinvigorated band itself.
“Back in the day, all we wanted to do was play the Broken Spoke,” says Harmeier, nodding to the hometown honky-tonk in Austin, TX, where Silverada began sowing the seeds for a sound that mixed timeless twang with modern-day dynamics. “We had different aspirations back then. We were still figuring out what kind of band we were gonna be, and that took a lot of time and a lot of records.”
A lot of records, indeed. Silverada marks the group’s ninth release, and it balances the strengths they’ve accumulated along the way – sharp, detailed songwriting that bounces between autobiographical sketches and character studies; gorgeous swells of pedal steel that drift through the songs like weather; a rhythm section capable of country shuffles, hard-charging rock & roll tempos, and everything in between – with a willingness to break old rules and open new doors. “Radio Wave” is a roots-rock anthem for the highway and the heartland, peppered with Springsteen-worthy hooks and War On Drugs-inspired atmospherics.
Harmeier wrote the bulk of Silverada in his backyard studio, surrounded by dozens of books he’d picked up at a local Goodwill. “We’d been on tour for so long, playing the same set for almost two years, and I wanted to write something that was a departure,” he remembers.
There’s a smart sense of history here – a celebration not only of where the band is headed, where they’ve been, too. Even so, Silverada doesn’t spend much time looking in the rearview mirror. Instead, it keeps its gaze focused on the road ahead. This is a snapshot of a band in motion, chasing down the next horizon, writing the soundtrack to some new discovery. It’s the sound of alchemy, of some new metal being forged. And like silver itself, Silverada shines brightly.
“We spent the first part of our career figuring out who we are and what we’re good at,” says Harmeier. “Now we want to evolve not only the sound of the band, but the dynamic of the live show, too. Silverada is us setting the stage for the next leg of the journey.”