Dan Israel
Self-Titled
2005
Eclectone Records

Local stalwart Dan Israel returns with a strong batch of self-recorded, solo material he painstakingly knitted together over the past year while awaiting the recent birth of his son. That reflective, somewhat pensive period served the witty, wink-and-a-nod singer/songwriter well, as evidenced in standout cuts like the Elvis Costello-ish “Mystery Train,” the ‘Mats-y rocker “Question” and the simple, charming album closer “Every Single Day.”

“Mystery Train” (not THAT “Mystery Train”) jingles, jangles and punches its way through Israel’s suburban basement walls with all the hangdog rebellion of an outtake from King Of America or a lost, Nick Lowe-penned McManus demo, with Israel equally evoking pangs of loss, stabs of regret and raw grief.

“Question” slams out of the gate with furious snare cracks, snarling guitars and the usually-restrained Israel fairly growling, “Why do people got to be so cold an’ mean?/ Try to put you down if you ain’t in their scene/ What makes ‘em all so cool an’ vicious/ Walk around grumblin’ an’ so suspicious ...” Defo not your average “it’ll all work out in the end” Israel cut, the slicing, biting lyrics here ride a late-period ‘Mats groove and come off like Lou Reed tap dancin’ barefoot on a straight razor, while Dan sounds more righteously pissed than ever: “What the HELL is this sad world comin’ to?”

Hidden track “Every Single Day” winds up the show appropriately, Israel turning once again to his faith, his love, his family, his friends and, especially, his new son, with a sad, contented shrug. “I love you more than I could say in a song,” he croons over bouncy, melancholy piano notes. “May your days be happy an’ your life be long/ I can’t believe that you fell my way/ I’m just tryin’ to hold on to every single day ...” An ode to love lost, found and newborn, as well as a sorrowful, knowing goodbye to days forever past, the cut perfectly captures not only the time it was recorded in, but the deepest depths of its author’s soul. Solid, classic Minnesota music at its finest. Available in local shops or at DanIsraelMusic.com.

Steve Wynn & The Miracles
...tick...tick...tick
2005
Down There

Dream Syndicate alum Steve Wynn checks in after a busy year of touring and recording with other outfits (most notably Minneapolis’ own Golden Smog) with an amazing batch of in-your-face, ballsy roots rock on ...tick...tick...tick. Most notable on first spin is the production (Courtesy of Wynn, Craig Schumacher and Linda Pitmon) here—heavy, thick and dead serious, the album at once strikes a chord of savage, thumping immediacy.

Kicking off with the sizzling, electri-fried groove of “Wired,” Wynn and his Miracles (Jason Victor on guitar and vocals, Dave DeCastro on bass and vocals, and drummer Linda Pitmon) come out swinging on the very first note—“Why am I wired this way?” he sneers, as the band embraces calculated chaos at his back. “Cindy, It Was Always You” is like a Dream Syndicate flashback, replete with high lonesome harp, whirling, earthy guitars and that ever-present, primal hoodoo beat.

The sad, tinkling intro to “The Deep End” effectively embodies the gut-bucket, honky-tonk soul that’s fairly oozed from the best of Wynn’s work over the years. Like a sweet, secret tryst between a Sound Of Lies-era Jayhawks nugget and (Wynn’s mighty gift) a song that’s simply never been sung before anywhere, anytime, by anybody—the moody sweep of the music and the pain-wracked, soul-baring lyrics of this track capture the very best aspects of the whole release. I just wanna stock the fridge with cheap beer, a carton of smokes an’ a package of government cheese and lock myself in with it on repeat until spring comes and I (hopefully) finally gurgle my own way out of the deep end. As Steve says, “...it’s more than sink or swim/ I’d rather not go in/ The deep end ...”

“Turning Of The Tide” could very well have, musically at least, come from some lost, Zuma-period Neil Young session, Wynn’s and Victor’s axes alternately trading gruff, sexy come-ons and gnarly bitch slaps. “Bruises” is straight-ahead power-pop—where Wilco might’ve gone if Tweedy hadn’t broke down an’ gone all electro-trippin’ a few albums back. “Wild Mercury” is a rollicking, schizoid mind-meld, Wynn and the band fairly howling their ways through a barbed-wire-strewn field of wild cymbal crashes, thundering bass riffs and spot-on harmonies.

“All The Squares Go Home” sounds a bit like something Chuck Prophet might have laid down in the past few years (that both fellas were members of the so-called “Paisley Underground” may have something to do with that, but methinks great minds just think alike), squeegy keyboards roiling atop a cacophonous bed of in-your-face beats, screaming axes, and Wynn’s voice run through some kind of effects box that makes him sound eerily like Wall Of Voodoo founder Stan Ridgway. It’s powerful—and highly addictive.

The record wraps up with “No Tomorrow,” another Dream Syndicate-esque ballad disguised as a slap-happy country-inflected pop ditty. Wynn & The Miracles aren’t breaking new ground with ...tick...tick...tick, but then again, why should they? People are still trying desperately to follow in the footsteps he left behind 20-odd years ago, and he’s content to continue forging along that same trail with all the guts and gusto of the nameless, faceless session men who were probably some of his biggest inspirations along the way. An excellent addition to the Wynn catalog, a genuine gem of an album and a must-have for fans of music that gives a shit. Buy it! SteveWynn.net.

That’s all the space we’ve got this time ‘round, gang. Tune in again, same space, same time, for more, more, more ... until then, make yer own damn news.

If you have local music news/gigs/CDs you’d like to see mentioned in this space, or you’d just like to squeeze me out some logic like mustard on a hot dog, send replies to: Tmygunn777@peoplepc.com. ||