There are two types of singer/songwriters. Many of them write surface-level songs (a reflection of the "hard times" experienced during their surface-level lives) with the intent of shopping their five-song demos to labels. The others -- a far smaller group -- write to purge their systems of the toxins within, composing to maintain their day-to-day sanity. These artists have few goals beyond releasing their work to friends who pester them with, "I want to hear your music!" Okay, you asked for it.
Fortunately, artists such as Michael McDaeth are around to keep that second group alive. He's back for a sixth solo round -- a freshly printed ink-jet label wrapped around a double-disc of madness, a continuation of his "the music started making him" explorations. Using only a guitar, a harmonica, his voice and his imagination, he works magic.
There's no need to provide a detailed account of every song on Shine in Reverse; once you've heard a few of McDaeth's songs, you've kind of heard them all. Well, yes and no. McDaeth's creativity isn't housed in an explosion of multi-tracking or tape-edits. His craft is in the details, the ability to persevere in (literally) pounding out 26 songs, all in the same style -- and to your attention while he does it. He accomplishes this goal by never really finishing what he's talking about, cutting and pasting sentences together while splicing in words and harmonica blasts to "end" phrases. You'll consider his observations later, coming up with your own conclusions, then returning to the song to piece together your version of the story. In other words, he's a great director who gives you the stage, a few details about the characters and a little fuel for your imagination. As dumb as it sounds, it's refreshing to experience this type of ambiguity, given the genre's surplus of let-me-explain-every-little-detail-so-you-don't-have-to-think artists.
However, if you listen carefully, McDaeth's madness is merely a façade; behind it, you'll find an endearing songwriter who enjoys his creative freedom. When you let go of the idea that an audience or your bandmates are listening to you, as McDaeth does, you can say "fuck" and "shit", call world leaders "terrorists", ramble "duh, duh, duh, duh, duh, duh, duh", yell "shalalalalalalalala" and squeak and squawk in keys well beyond your vocal range. His insulated approach is bolstered by the courage that comes when you focus on the idea that only you and "the requisite fans" will listen to your music and "get" it. McDaeth uses this weapon to its fullest, and regardless of his angst, his performance betrays the satisfaction he derives from getting things off of his chest; think about Noam Chomsky's peace when he corrects others, or the first John Frusciante album, or Evangelical preachers, or some of the "tortured" yet brilliant bloggers whose work you peruse every morning.
Once you get over Shine in Reverse's initial abrasiveness, you'll understand that McDaeth isn't trying to be weird -- he just lets what's on his mind come out, jagged edges and mumbling included. While his predecessors have moved on to Mitsubishi commercials and their own line of iPods, McDaeth will continue his trek, giving renewed meaning to "three chords and the truth".
