High above the Shenandoah River in Harper’s Ferry, West Virginia, we find the members of the Americana outfit Mink’s Miracle Medicine. It’s not hard to understand why a pair of songwriters would call this place home. The river’s eternal hum blasts over the front porch and in through the kitchen window. Mink’s Miracle Medicine tap into that soulful reservoir on their first album, House of Candles, to be released on Friday, May 26, 2017. Mink’s Miracle Medicine began to explore the potential of sonic minimalism in country music. What could happen if each song was reduced to its purest form?: A telecaster guitar, weeping plucking and gliding over harmony, a simple three-piece drum kit crooning alongside, and above it, a singular powerful voice.The idea birthed reality. Melissa Elizabeth Wright and Daniel Zezeski played their first show together to a comic book shop in Philadelphia. Since then, they have gone on to play all over the United States, indulging their deep-seated fascination with freight trains and cross-country road trips. Citing influence from artists like Patsy Cline, Hank Williams, Neil Young, and The Beatles, their sound is raw, earthy and smells like a long and winding road that weaves around an undeniable longing, calling to mind early Tom Petty and shades of Patti Smith.
Lead singer Melissa Elizabeth Wright picked up her love for music at a young age, attending bluegrass jams at an old furniture factory in her hometown and writing some of her first songs on an Oscar Schmidt Autoharp. She spent her summers camped out at old fiddlers’ conventions, where she learned to pick the guitar like Maybelle Carter and how to craft songs in the Americana tradition. After high school, she attended Berklee College of Music and graduated with honors in 2012.
Foregoing the conservatory method, Daniel Zezeski got his start with punk and ska bands in his early teens. Donning a green mohawk, Daniel frequented a music venue owned by his uncle in Scranton, PA, and received a musical education one can only get from standing in the wings of a show, where one can truly see, feel, and breathe with the music and the audience. When he came of age, he ran away from home to hop freight trains, seeing the American landscape in the same way he saw music in his youth: fearlessly up close.