Umbrella Man sets itself up to be a clever, tongue-in-cheek exploration of what music can be—the CD insert features a harmonica and a sly reference to Magritte's famous "This Is Not A Pipe" painting—and for the most part, it delivers. Scott Albert Johnson is so unlike the rest of the musical world that it is hard to start listening without a slightly unpleasant initial jolt of surprise, but his unique sound is irresistible and virtuosic in its breadth. Is it folk? No, it's too polished modern, too rhythmic and pop-catchy. Is it jazzy? Yes, but also a little cabaret with a smidgen indie-acoustic and even a bit country rough-around-the-edges. Is it rock? Kind of...maybe it's a little bit ska. Confusion regardless, it is a convincing argument for harmonica riffs as an instrument of world peace and environmental restoration.

Although the harmonica may seem restrictively distinctive and doomed to stereotype, Johnson's astonishing virtuosity enables him to use this much-overlooked instrument to create an astonishing variety of sounds and tonal moods. The toe-tapping title track, "Umbrella Man," features a harmonica part that blends seamlessly into the twangy rock guitar riffs. "The Best of Me" flourishes a sweet, down-home country folksy in its introduction. And the no-vocals "Walkabout" is a deeply bizarre and intensely satisfying dialogue between harmonica and digeridoo. Yes—that long, Discovery-Channel-esque aboriginal pipe instrument that sounds like a rumbling of musical indigestion. Johnson may be the only man alive to incorporate a digeridoo without evoking Putumayo. (Next time, Scott, how about a bagpipe ballad? Yes, that's a challenge.)

Umbrella Man also bears witness to a rare grasp of melody and "songmanship." Johnson's pieces quickly familiarize themselves with audiences, but unlike much of today's Top 40 chart, they are complex enough to never tire out. "Turn Out Fine" is particularly so; weaving together exuberant, brazen harmonica notes with a wealth of jazzy piano exposition, the song is filled with hold-your-breath moments. One line is particularly memorable. As Johnson croons "well that was fifteen years ago...I'm married, got a kid / but I still smile after all this while 'bout those crazy things we did," the music slows and drops out until all that's left is a wayward trickle of piano after the last word. The next second, the band hits full melodic stride again. Amazing.

Of course, Umbrella Man is not perfect, despite all its strengths. Take the somewhat perplexing placement of "Spaceship" as the first track. Like all of Johnson's music, the song defies easy classification, but it does carry a strong flavor of square dances and bluegrass that can't help but marginalize the artist. Bye-bye, half of Mr. Johnson's potential audience; wish you could've stayed for the other stuff too.

Johnson's lyrics also occasionally leave something to be desired. Pieces like "The Yuppie Husband's Lament" are deliciously snarky, but the pop culture references are a bit belabored. And sprinkled amongst the other songs are alternating moments of brilliance and tepid clich'.

Then again, perhaps it is unfair to ask Johnson to be the perfect musician. After all, this Umbrella Man has already far outstripped the usual bounds of his mainstream counterparts, the pop chart-toppers. Still, it's tempting to imagine where this singer-performer-songwriter will be in a few more years. His debut album is a work of rare beauty and innovation. Here's to you, Mr. Johnson, and more of your shape-shifting harmoni-gui-sax-tar.