Michael Dean Damron is one of those rare artists that makes it obvious the he lives his music. Whether it’s with I Can Lick Any SOB or his solo work he leaves it all out there for you and me. Sometimes it ain’t pretty and sometimes it’s hard to stomach but that’s because the man writes about real life and doesn’t leave out the viscera. I’ll be completely honest and admit upfront that not every song in his rather large repertoire appeals to me lyrically but that’s where the real magic is with MDD, because, you see, I can’t even turn off his music when I don’t agree with him. There’s something about him, his writing, his blood and guts approach to music makes me keep right on listening no matter what.
Nah, Death I’ma Comin’ For You only proves to me that MDD can do no wrong. Ten new tracks and every last one of them a keeper. As is his style, Mr. Damron drags us all over the emotional spectrum with this one. From the nostalgia with “Mama Song” to the wry angst of “Creakin’ Ol’ Bones” the roller coaster gathers speed throughout the album to finally coming to halt punctuated with the epitaph for our nation “The Day America Died”. The formula here is a simple one though, so simple that most artists these days miss it, and it’s honesty. Not being a poet or a songwriter I imagine that even though it’s a simple concept, at the same time, it’s not easy to pour yourself out in every song and still have anything left. I frankly don’t know how anyone does it but I am damn glad MDD keeps doing it over and over. - ninebullets.net
This album is so damn good (not to mention the live album that comes with it). Much as I love the righteous anger and disappointment of Auto Tune the World I would have to say the standout track for me is “Fat Kid”. Straight up honesty is Mike D’s biggest strength, and man is he strong.
- Whiskey T
Portland’s Michael Dean Damron began exorcising his demons about 12 years ago, and lucky for us, it’s still a work in progress. Both as a solo artist and with an assembled band of crazy local hotshots dubbed I Can Lick Any Sonofabitch In The House, Damron continually succeeds, however, in enveloping his inner turmoils and outspoken observations in compelling, important music. Raw, haunting, drunkenly wild, innocently gentle; a Damron creation can possess any of these tags, or all of them.
Michael Dean Damron used to lead the booze-drenched, appropriately named roots-rock band I Can Lick Any Sonofabitch In The House. Time hasn't mellowed the guy or improved his worldview, but on Bad Days Ahead — his first album under the moniker Michael Dean Damron and Thee Loyal Bastards — he's learned that righteous indignation can be even more affecting when it's delivered with a whisper instead of a scream.
"Hallelujah" opens with the crack of a snare drum, conjuring images of a military funeral march. Essentially, that's what the track is: a chilling condemnation of a war and its aftermath, aimed directly at the provocateur and delivered with pitch-perfect dynamics that alternate between dispassionate contempt and heart-wrenching, agonizing fury. Damron's gruff voice becomes a bone-chilling howl during the choruses, in the process proving — particularly when combined with Heidi Hellbender's apocalyptic backing vocals — that the guys in the white hats can be scary, too.