Published on Oct 10, 2000
It’s getting harder and harder to be a singer-songwriter in the
present music scene.
It wasn’t terribly long ago that you had people such as Marc
Cohn and David Wilcox threatening to bring back the days of such
story-telling artists like Jim Croce, Harry Chapin and Bob Dylan.
But as quickly as their stars rose, they fell from the sky, only
people had already turned their backs on the ensuing light
show.
Michael McDermott knows this all too well. He’s probably
best-known for his hit “A Wall I Must Climb” from a few years ago,
but since then has remained anonymous to both radio and consumers.
He’s kept hammering away at his craft all this time, hoping to get
another chance to show people what they’re missing out on, but his
musical pleas have fallen on deaf ears.
His latest album,
Last Chance Lounge, might have a title which describes
McDermott’s view of the music business. If it is, then he’s
possibly saved his best material for this effort. Now, one only has
to wait and see if anyone is willing to sit down, have a beer and
listen to the stories that McDermott has to tell.
Like most singer-songwriters, McDermott’s style runs from
harder-edged pop to more laid-back ballading. For this reason
alone, it’s sometimes hard to get completely into the album, and it
takes more of a concentrated effort to pay attention to what
McDermott has to say. I’m hesitant to put the blame on McDermott
for this, simply because this is a curse that many other
singer-songwriters have had to face over the years.
Yet there is plenty to get excited about on
Last Chance Lounge. From the start, tracks like “Broken Down
Fence” and “Getting Off The Dime” let the listener know that they
could well be in for a real treat. And, more often than not,
McDermott delivers on that promise. Tracks such as “Annie And The
Aztec Cross,” “Bourbon Blue” and “20 Miles South Of Nowhere” all
carry the emotional payload to their destination successfully.
Even on the more gentle numbers like “Murder On Her Lips,”
McDermott is able to grab the listener by the heartstrings and take
them in a direction they weren’t prepared for. These tracks take a
little more effort on the part of the listener, but the effort
proves to be worthy in the end.
It is rare that McDermott fires a blank on
Last Chance Lounge, and even there, the songs are by no
means failures. Tracks such as “Spark” and “Aces & Eights”
don’t pack quite the punch as other tracks do, but on any other
album, they’d stand out. When they’re surrounded by such good
tracks, though, they pale.
Even in all the tales of alienation and hopelessness, McDermott
sets himself apart in that he holds out the slim hope that things
are due to get better, and that personal salvation has to be just
around the corner. Whether McDermott’s characters ever get to that
promised land is left up to each individual listener to decide.
Last Chance Lounge is the kind of album that, if there were
justice in this world, would make McDermott a celebrity. It would
generate hit single after hit single and mark the renaissance of
the age of the singer-songwriter. Even if this does not happen,
McDermott should not hang his head, for he has created a thing of
beauty.