rootless 
There’s been a steady stream of works from rootless over the past few years, some expansive like the ambience-heavy Docile Cobras, others more pensive and spare with Hurewitz focusing solely on fingerpicked runs. His latest falls into the latter category, a darker dive into twilight flicker than last year’s Places Remember Us. The set opens with the driving rain ripples of “The Naming of New Things” — a breathless start to a record that doesn’t waste any time establishing Jeremy’s talent on the strings. The songs on What The Truth Leaves Out have a ragged,sway to them. “Mercy of Others take 1,” approaches bluegrass, but feints and chews on the loose ends of country-blues. It’s mirror image, ‘take 2,” puts a bit more tin in its teeth, leaning towards some of the noise that crops up elsewhere.
That noise is a running theme in the album, dissonance mirroring confusion, angst, and hurt. This hits a peak in the mid-section, with “The Hand That Nursed The Serpent,” a dizzying cut that pulls the listener’s attention across the listening spectrum, often in opposite directions at once. The calm that’s been prevalent on some of his previous outings is held at bay, replaced by frustration, and themes that rise but don’t quite resolve. That unfinished itch is quite by design, though. The more brittle bits of the album are left raw and rusted, a reaction to less languid times and an inner turbulence that can’t help but seep into all aspects of life. There are certainly moments when I find myself running for the meditation of Places or the clarity of Cobras, but in 2022, the corrosion of What The Truth Leaves Out often makes more sense.