Last year, Michael McDermott released his “Out From Under” record. “Stunning” would be an apt word for it.

His story is an interesting one. Discussed at length in the review that I wrote of it. But to sum it up in a sentence: was the next big thing, battled demons, came through it.

That’s sort of what “Orphans” is too.

The clue is in the title. “Some songs won’t go away”, McDermott explains. “On all of my records there’s this stack of songs that won’t make it – and they disappear for good.  It wasn’t the case this time.  This isn’t an outtake album.  I have an album waiting to go, but these songs were too loud in my heart, they kept waking me at night.  These songs are orphans, in much the same way I’ve felt in the last three years.”

The phrase “last three years” matters here too. McDermott lost both his parents back in 2015, and such a thing causes a reflection. But there’s a reason we, as the listener, know more about McDermott than we do about most artists: he uses the songs, his lyrics, as a catharsis.

His records are musically diverse, expertly played, but honestly, McDermott is the perfect artist for those that are drawn to words and their use.

“Tell Tale Heart” – the lead song here – is superb, not only because it sounds like Tom Petty, but also, there are not many (any?) tracks that reference Dorian Gray and Bobby Sands in the space of two verses.

But it’s the use of the former that sums up “Orphans”. “I feel a little like Mr Dorian Gray. There are things that i feel, that I’ll never say” he sings here. But if he wouldn’t say them, then maybe he’ll sing them, and open them up to all of us too.

The slower, but no less raw. “The Last Thing I Ever Do” deals with the slow break up of a relationship, while “Ne’er Do Well” looks at things from the point of a relationship being the only good thing someone has. That one is interesting too, given it is one of the very few here that are built almost entirely around a cheery sound, but it still sounds as if its so fragile it could break at any second.

There are occasions where it seems McDermott is writing from a stream of consciousness perspective, as if he has so much to say that it all comes tumbling out on the page. The harmonica driven “Meadowlark” is one such moment.

“Sometimes When It Rains In Memphis” is arguably the best of the lot. “You said you wanted to get out. Go anywhere. Anywhere they didn’t know you” goes a line here and  without making too many assumptions as to his audience, there won’t  be many people listening to this that don’t relate to the desperate desire to escape.

It is, though, the little details that set this apart. You feel that you are prying on McDermott’s diaries in effect, but then, there is something universal here too.

“Given Up The Ghost” has interesting rhythms, harmonies which make it sound a little more uplifting, while the gorgeous sounds of “Black Tree, Blue Sky” are juxtaposed by the thought that “The night can be so hopeful The night can be so free In the morning, all you want to do is die.” As I’ve written before, as someone who makes all the big decisions in his life at about 2am, before waking up at 6.30 to decide that they were all a waste of time, I feel this pain more than I should.

“Wrong Side Of Town” won’t be upset with comparisons to Bruce Springsteen, it does, though, sound like some lost outtake on “Born In The USA” and the perfect, cracked delivery of “Full Moon Goodbye” makes you understand just why McDermott had the world at his feet in the early 90s.

“Richmond” is a little funky, and if his sound recalls some of the greats, then he doesn’t sound like anyone else, not really. “Los Angeles, A Lifetime Ago” adds a bit of country touch, but its truly harrowing words are straight from a junkie’s journal.

The fact he’s seen the light at the end of the tunnel and is able to look forward is perhaps shown best by the final song. ”What If Today Were My Last” is something, maybe, we’ve all done. Taken stock and worked out if we were happy in ourselves.

As Springsteen himself once said: “it’s a sad man, my friend, who’s living in his own skin and can’t stand the company.” And there’s a feeling of that here, possibly. That’s why “Orphans” is so important.

And on a lighter note, if these are the songs he couldn’t find a home for, then just imagine how good the next record will be.

Rating 9.5/10