Every Danny Dwyer song starts with him screaming at a wall. Some end up conjuring Missouri River jamborees. Stationed Chevys blast their amber high beams to keep the day alive. Kids from drive-thru towns like his brave the rough undercurrents, confidence Super Starring their skin into invincibility cloaks. Others, sung softer than a reverie, sound like the radioactive ash of half-lifed relationships fading away. They all originate from top-of-the-lung throat-scraping — an inconceivable waterfall of raw ideas that, like Houdini, Danny manages to make magic out of. “I want to be at war,” he whispered once to a washed bio writer who loves fruit snacks. He awakens daily with a broken heart of gold and $8000 reserved for setting himself ablaze. (The match has yet to be struck. If you or someone you know would like to do the honors, send a note to [email protected] or DM @burndanburn on Instagram. Thanks!)