Mike Dangeroux

Still Dangerous

RD Records

Mike Dangeroux was born in Chicago. He graduated from the Berklee College of Music in Boston. He performs in a variety of musical genres, from classics to contemporary hits. Mike has played with Koko Taylor, Mississippi Heat, J.W. Williams, Nellie “Tiger” Travis, and Buddy Guy. He is a featured performer at Guy’s Chicago blues club Legends. The August 1, 2026 release of Still Dangerous coordinates nicely with Mike’s induction into the Chicago Blues Hall of Fame. The album was produced and engineered by Mike at Maplewood Studios in Chicago, Illinois. All songs were written by Mike.

On Still Dangerous, Mike not only honors the rich heritage of the blues but also pushes the genre’s boundaries into exciting new territories. Mike plays guitar, bass, drums, and keyboards on five tracks and takes all lead vocals. He is accompanied by co-producer Vince Varco on piano, organ, and strings on seven tracks. Another drummer, Casper, is credited as drum consultant and co-writer on the closing track.

The album opens with “It Feels So Right,” as Mike sings, “Woke up to your shadow on the bedroom wall, coffee on your lips and a laugh that calms us all, you move around my morning like you own the day and every crooked worry just dissolves away. It feels so right, 2xs like a truth I finally found, like the world bends softer whenever you’re around. So let the city keep it’s noise, we’ll keep this quiet light, loving you is simple, it feels so right,” with some great bass played by Mike before he takes his guitar solo.

On “Where’s My Money,” Mike chimes, “I’ve been standin’ on this corner with my hat pulled low, clock keeps talkin’ loud, but my pockets don’t know. You smiled like Sunday, said you’d settle up soon, now the moon’s runnin’ circles and your hidin’ from the tune. Where’s my money (where’s my money now?) Where’s my money (tell me where and how), you danced on every promise, left me beggin’ in the rain. Where’s my money, bring it back again.”

On “Nothin’s Gonna Keep Me Away,” Mike chants, “I been walking down these midnight highways with your name upon my lips. Every mile’s a memory every sign post tells me where I missed. Neon hearts keep flickering, and the rain keeps calling me by name. But when the night gets heavy it’s your light that stays the same. Not the miles, not the years, not the shame or the skeptical tear’s, nothing’s gonna make me turn and walk away. They can try to make me stay. Ain’t nothin’ gonna keep me away from you, no, no, nothin’ gonna keep me away. Through the rain aand thunder, through the long and lonesome blue, nothing’s gonna keep me away from you.”

“Still Wondering About You” features Mike as he moans, “Streetlight pours whiskey down the pavement like a hymn, I trace the cigarette smoke, where your shadow used to spin. The barroom clock keeps laughing at the promises I break, and every empty glass relects the shape of your mistake. Your laugh’s a broken record playin’ back inside my head, every streetlights a question, every mile is a thread. There’s a tremor in the silence, a note that won’t let go. It hans between the heartbeat of the footstep and the road. I’m still wondering about you, when the night comes rolling through, who you hold when the rain hits like the truth, I’m still wondering, darlin’, I’m still wondering, still wondering about you.”

On “Mind Reader,” Mike groans, “You give me little nods and a frown at the door. Leave your coffee cold on the counter, like you done before. I walk around these questions, tryin’ to find a sign. But baby signals don’t always line up with time. You got a look like thunder, and a silence like rain, I can hear the thunder, but I can’t feel your pain. If you want me in the story don’t leave me out the scene, I ain’t no mind reader, tell me what you mean.”

On “My Snake Don’t Bite,” Mike wails, “Woke up this morning, sun crawlin’ through the blinds. My old snale layin’ lazy, coiled up, right up on my mind. Neighbors say he’s deadly, don’t you go near. Bur that old rattlesnake he just hums when I’m here. He don’t snap or strike he just winds and glides. Like a slow river slippin’ softly through the pines. Folks think he’s trouble he’ll steal your pride. But my snake don’t bite he just keeps time on my side. My snake don’t bite 2xs baby. He just sways and sways. He slides through the night like a whisper, baby! (He don’t fight, he just plays). Don’t sink his teeth in your heart no way. My snake don’t bite he just sways.”

On “Do You Still Love Me,” Mike bursts, “Streelight on the window, coffee gone cold on the sill. Your picture in the doorway makes the room stand still. We had words like thunder, left the porch light burning low, I keep turning to the doorway, baby where did you go? I been walking these same steps, replaying every line. Trying to find the reason why you left me off the side. Do you still love me am I on your mind. Do you still love me or did that feeling fall behind. I reach for you in the night, but your shadow’s hard to find. Do you still love me say it one more time, say it one more time.”

On “You Can’t Break Me,” Mike howls, “Woke up to thunder, your shadow at the door. Said you’d leave me lonely, leave me on the floor. Poured out my pockets, tried to steal my name. But I got bones of iron, I ain’t paying no games. You left a trail of thunder, thought it would drown my flame. But I keep on walking, whisperin’ your name. You spill your promises like rain on rusted chains. Thought you’d wash me clean, wash away these stains. You can break the bottle, burn the bridge behind me. You can break the calender, steal the time I find, see. But you can’t break me, no, you can’t shake me free. I’m stone and smoke and midnight you can’t break me.”

On “Dust on My Boots,” Mike cries out, “The suns a melted coin that rolls across the plain. My shadows stretching long even in the rain. The desert wind sings through a cactus crown. I’ve chased the horizon where the wild lies down. Every mile I’ve walked leaves a story in the sand. Dust on my boots a restless tired man. Midnight’s candle dance in the distant hill. A roosters call sings the morning’d first chill, my maps a crumpled mess, torn at the seam. But the only love I’ve found is the roads mean dream. I tip my hat to shadows that have come and gone. Dust on my boots, the only thing that’s strong.”

On “The Silence Is Talking (When Silence Speaks),” Mike whines, “Neon on the pavement like a sermon for the lost. Phones glow like campfires, everyone’s counting cost. Windows shut light, curtains drawn against the news. We fold our maps into pockets, try not to choose. But the hush ain’t empty, it’s a chorus of names. Sodt as a warning, steady like rain. The silence is talkin’, it don’t sound like hope, it’s a slow, slow heartbeat, an anxious hollow rope. Whispers in the static saying were unmade. Silence is talking, and it’s heavy as the shade. Nowhere to run but need to keep walking. Listen real, real close, the silence is talking.”

On “Delta Girl,” Mike chirps, “She walks like the river slow and sure, mud on her boots and a heart that’s pure. Eyes like storm clouds, lips like a hymn. When she laughs the night leans in. Got that old porch sway in the heat of June, a lover’s lullaby under a midnight moon. Every step she takes makes the cypress bend. Delta magnolia you been my only friend. Delta girl your torch is always warm, pull me close through the passing storm. Sweet Delta girl, don’t let me go, your the river’s song, you’re the undertow.”

On “First Light (What Are We Doing Here),” Mike belts, “You sure? Then let’s move slow, like we know what quiet can hold. Lights sinking low, the city breathing through the glass, your jacket on the chair, your smile drifting through the past. Two strangers with a feeling, tracing outlines in the dark, Every little half-laugh landing right where the truth starts. There’s s hush between the notes, a heartbeat keeping time, we can stop, rewind breathe, whatever feels aligned. What are we doing here, baby? learning how to be close. Letting all the edges soften, going where the feeling flows. What are we doing here darling? finding something fine. Slow and easy, heart to heart, taking one small step at a time.”

On the closer, “Right Love Wrong Time Again,” Mike croons, “Twenty years vanished the moment you walked in, one look said everything we’d never say again. You stepped through the doorway like a memory reborn. That same soft perfume drifting quiet and warm. We laughed like the years had only paused for awhile, two old hearts walking to a familiar smile. Your hand found mine like it knew where to begin, like every road we walked still lived beneath our skin. For a moment it felt like nothing had changed, just two lost lovers standing in the rain. But silence tells the truth that words can’t defend, Some stories circle back but never quite mend. Right love, wrong time again, we tried to start where we had been, one night felt like long ago, but the morning whispered let it go…wrong time again.”

Mike Dangeroux states, “This album embodies my journey, both in music and in life. Blues has always been rooted in the art of storytelling, and I set out to share my own narratives in a way that resonates deeply with listeners.” You’ll have to agree Mike Dangeroux is still dangerous.

Richard Ludmerer