About 10 years ago, my friend Scott gave me a copy of a CD by this singer-songwriter that he was just crazy about. “Greatest singer-songwriter of our generation,” he said. As a music-savvy college student, I scoffed at first. I figured this was just hyperbole on my friend’s part. “He can’t be that good,” I thought.

I was wrong.

Michael McDermott is the greatest singer-songwriter of my generation.

His self-titled album that Scott loaned me quickly became one of my all-time favorites. The sweeping, mournful ballad Deirdre Dances is my favorite song ever. A few of the album’s other cuts — Wounded, Bells, My Own Little World — are easily in my personal Top 10. His combination of seasoned musicianship and articulate lyricism are a rare treat in today’s dumbed down Timerlake-and-Fergie saturated pop market. I love his lyrics because he sings of pain & redemption, two themes I’m particularly drawn to. It’s a travesty that Michael McDermott isn’t a household name.

I picked up a copy of McDermott’s latest album Noise From Words a couple weeks ago. It’s far and away my favorite album of the year so far. For you singer-songwriter afficanadoes, you’ll want to check it out. (You can order it here.) I think some of his stuff is available on eMusic. I know his last album, Ashes, is on iTunes. If you love great musci with powerful lyrics, check out McDermott.