STEVE WYNN & THE MIRACLE 3
…tick…tick…tick
Redeye
· Steve Wynn and the Miracle 3 recorded this third in their Desert Trilogy of albums during 10 days in Tucson last summer.
Poor Steve Wynn. If you are to believe the hypnotic jumble of his lyrics, whether he is singing with Gutterball, Dream Syndicate, Miracle 3 or just himself, he is a man destined to be misunderstood by those he loves. A man likely to call up his regretfully former flame after having one too many. A man who tries to hide the bleeding, who hopes the bruises never show.
But show they do, in every riff and every line tossed off like a teenage sneer, hiding the cut quick underneath the tough. They show in the tender sentiments nearly crushed senseless by rampant trampling guitar. In every drink taken for redemption or remedy – the bruises show.
He keeps the hurt alive with distorted tracks and hypnotizing, lulling grooves, with lyrical references to part of his life that suddenly becomes yours. Then he slows it down to the pace of a shadow to dissect it – rushes it along at the pace of a swirling electron to get it over with.
In Wynn’s music, the dirty driven guitar riff is it, as familiar as the numbers on a clock face while your moments scatter past with a …tick…tick…tick.
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