Michael McDermott

With his major label debut in 1991, Michael McDermott had everything on his side: A powerful manager (Brian Koppelman, who signed Tracy Chapman), a Billboard hit in MTV’s buzz bin (“A Wall I Must Climb”) and youth. When he made “620 W. Surf”—named after his Chicago apartment where he writes the songs—he was barely 21.

But McDermott—who has survived the blessing-curse of being touted “the next Springsteen/Dylan”—is 34, and times have indeed changed. He lost his record deal in the late 1990s after his label, EMI, folded. He lost his apartment and lives at home with his retired parents in the south suburbs of Chicago.

Ask McDermott his goal for his latest release, Ashes, and he replies with a self-deprecating crack: “An apartment by the lake.”

Yet Ashes hardly seems worthy of such dismissal. It is one of McDermott’s most powerful albums to date—the kind of strident, anthemic rock record that doesn’t find much favor anymore, though it hardly sounds dated or slick. A key reason: McDermott plumbs timeless spiritual themes on Ashes, as well as their grit-hued, nicotine shadows—suggesting a double meaning to the album’s moniker.

Ashes also marks a big step forward, a ripening of McDermott’s artistic promise. It took him 18 months to record, working in Houston, Los Angeles and Chicago; Joe Hardy (Replacements, Steve Earle), Dan Petty (Shawn Colvin, Stone Roses) and McDermott himself produced (he also plays guitar, bass, Wurlitzer and piano). Despite the diverse locations and studio helmsmen, the album sounds taut and cohesive.

One juncture where lyrics and music kindle with ample light and heat is “Sword of Damocles.” Propelled by acoustic guitar, a jaunty harmonica, and a beat reminiscent of Midnight Oil’s “The Dead Heart,” McDermott scraps for elusive hope on the blade edge of life’s difficulties: “Wake up to the sounds of your aching heart / To see your soul’s enemy approach your rampart / It’s the same battles we fight every day / You don’t wanna leave but you don’t wanna stay.” McDermott’s conclusion: “A light still shines from the sword of Damocles.”

Is the lyric autobiographical? McDermott—whose Irish Catholic background has always informed his songwriting—admits he hit a personal low two years ago, when he started writing for the disc. He doesn’t reveal specifics, but acknowledges that he’s been in counseling with Catholic priest and author Pat Brennan (The Way of Forgiveness).

“I’m trying, I’m trying,” McDermott said of his struggle to put his life in perspective and leave broken dreams behind. “It’s the deconstruction of self. I’m 34 years old, back to square one and I just wish I had done this 10 years ago.”